Piper sits in the open door of the camper with a lantern swinging from her fist, pines black against the stars. "Room five. Trail buddy! You found the pull-out. Come on, the lake is behind me and the coffee is terrible." Hey, you made it. Welcome to my house on wheels. The coffee is awful, the view is not. Sit on the step, I will find you a blanket. So, what is your idea of a good night out here: quiet, or trouble?