By Steve Wilent For The Mountain Times
My first camping trip, circa 1964, can in no way be described as glamping, a combination of glamorous and camping. My parents packed my brother and me, three and five years old, respectively, into the car and made the long drive from Sacramento to Yosemite National Park. Except for an ice chest, lantern, and two-burner camp stove, all made by Coleman, we had no camping equipment. No tent, no sleeping bags, no sleeping pads, no folding chairs, no bug spray. No S’mores!
My folks had a ground cloth of some sort on which we slept rolled up in quilts from our beds at home. I remember shivering at night and being certain that hungry bears were lurking nearby, and waking up at dawn, surprised to be alive, to the smell of pine needles and wood smoke. Each morning Mom made scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast to fuel us on our hikes to waterfalls and along the Merced River. In the evenings Dad made fires from wood brought from home. I was hooked on camping.
My parents and grandparents took my brother and I camping many times after that, but not often enough for me. By the time I was 16 and had my first car, a 1964 Pontiac Tempest station wagon — a primitive sport-utility vehicle — I camped many times on my own and with friends. I kept basic camping gear in my car, so I could head for the woods on Fridays after school. After graduating, I quit my job as a short-order cook and spent most of a month on a tour of the western US and Canada. These were “car camping” trips, but I’ve done a fair bit of backpacking in wilderness areas and other places accessible only on foot.
As I write this in mid-May, I imagine that many folks are looking forward to Memorial Day and the beginning of the summer camping season. We’ll see their cars, trucks, boats, and RVs zooming up the highway, loaded with tons of gear for a few days in the woods. Many will go to Timothy Lake or Trillium Lake. I avoid these and other places that are overcrowded and noisy all summer, even on weekdays. In fact, I rarely go camping in the summer.
I much prefer the peace and quiet of the fall, winter, and spring. Many of the lesser-known campgrounds on the Mt. Hood National are closed from October to Memorial Day. I wish the Forest Service would leave the gates open to folks like me who enjoy the quiet of the off-season.
When my favorite campgrounds are closed or too crowded, I seek out places to camp that have no facilities — no fire rings, tables, drinking water, or toilets. I recently spent two nights along a rushing creek far from a paved road, and never saw another person or heard a vehicle.
It was late winter and patches of snow covered much of the area, but I found a level area to park my Ford Explorer, which has room for a comfy futon mattress in the back. I built a fire in a ring of rocks that previous campers had used, set my folding chair nearby, and, with several layers of clothing to keep me warm, enjoyed reading, sipping red wine, and watching the chuckling stream wander by. I walked miles without seeing another human or a mosquito. With my single-burner stove on a fairly flat rock, I had coffee and oatmeal for breakfast and a simple one-pot dinner.
Whatever your preference for a place to “rough it,” comfort and simplicity are the key to an enjoyable vacation from modern life. You’ll need a shelter from rain and snow — a fancy tent, if you prefer, but a tarp on a rope strung between two trees will work. A warm sleeping bag and cushy mattress (I have a Therm-a-Rest Basecamp Self-Inflating Camping Sleeping Pad, well worth the investment). And clothing and jackets to keep you warm and dry, of course. I have a rain suit that keeps me dry all day during rainy weather, such as one blustery day along the beach at Nehalem Bay State Park. Don’t like the idea of camping in the rain or snow? Try it. Embrace it!
For nights in a tent or with nothing above me but the sky, I have a Stansport Heavy Duty G.I. Cot, also known as the “Big Ol’ Cot,” which measures 86 inches long — more than 7 feet — and 42 inches wide, substantially larger than a twin extra-long mattress. And at 19 inches tall, it makes getting up much easier for woodsmen and others with arthritic knees.
When the weather permits, I like to sleep under the stars on the cot with the Therm-a-Rest and my sleeping bag on top, sometimes with a blanket when temperatures are in the 30s or even well below freezing. The moon and the stars of the Milky Way are far more entertaining than any movie or TV show.
My dad used to say that roughing it meant staying at a Best Western motel. But aside from minimal cooking equipment, a comfortable bed, and a few basic supplies, you don’t need much from civilization to have an enjoyable camping experience. For me, spending a night or two in a remote, secluded spot, whether alone or with Lara, family, and friends, is what camping is all about. And with a few simple luxuries, it isn’t really roughing it.
Have a question about camping? Want to know the location of my secret hidden campsite? Let me know. Email: SWilent@gmail.com.