So You Want to Go Camping, Volume 1

The State Flower and State Tree of Michigan are in full bloom. Michigan's migratory animal starts moving North en masse, pulling its rectangular, seasonal, temporary appendage - truly a wonder of

Are we there yet?

evolution - as it seeks vast bodies of water and to settle amongst deep-green trees for the Summer. It's Michigan, it's Summer, and that means it's time to enjoy the Great Outdoors!

For my myriad long-time readers - all 5 of you, to whom I am eternally grateful - I gave some advice a while back in a 6-part-plus-1 series about backcountry hiking and camping (start with So You Want to Go Hiking, Volume 1): the kind of camping where everything is on your back and you buy real nice boots that probably don't give you blisters, and instead of sheltering away from bears, you more or less sleep right with them.

This is what we all have in mind

I appreciated everyone's loving and insightful comments, and was beyond-thrilled that I convinced perhaps 2 entire people to take the overnight hiking plunge! I haven't heard back from them about how it went, but I assume that since neither the State Police nor the FBI have asked me anything about them that they must have lived, if not enjoyed it.

I also received a lot of feedback along the lines of "is there another kind of camping, with less chance for serious illness, injury, and bear attacks?" or "I'm not ready to overtly risk life and limb to enjoy the outdoors; is there something less intense?" You're in luck, advice-seekers! There is, and my boys and I do that too! 

We call it: Car Camping; or, Comfort Camping.

A Note on Glamping

OMG close the door you're
letting bugs in

I mean, if that's what gets you into the woods, then by all means, glamp. And in all honesty, when my sons and I go camping, it's actually not terribly far-removed from that picture. Glamping is sleeping in a hotel room that just happens to be kind-of outside. It's glamorous, cozy, and usually comes with someone else worrying about feeding you.

A Note on Trailers and RVs

All the comforts of home, in
something slightly larger

Ahhh, the Winnebago. Famous vehicle of the nomads of the summer circuit, explorers of the Great Plains and Rocky Mountains. Or, for those without a CDL but who intrinsically understand the impossible algebra of backing-up-with-attachments, perhaps pulling all manner of camper trailers is what gets them outside. Our ancestors traveled in covered wagons on the same routes we now take, and perhaps the Winnebago, the RV, the pop-up trailer and the camper trailer is a throwback to the halcyon days of the covered wagon. Meals by campfire. Whiskey. Cowboys. Songs and dysentery. 

65% of all campsites at my most favoritest State Park in Michigan is occupied by RVs and trailers. It is not glamping, exactly. It is indeed risk-free, as one has actual beds, a fridge, a real stove, robust protection from all the elements, and a TV.

Car, or, Comfort Camping

This is what we do.

Camping, real camping, involves a tent. This is a Law. What tent-camping strives for is just a little hint of risk-of-nature. A sniff of could-be-trouble. An intimation of what-happens-about-weather. "All the comforts of home" defeats the purpose of camping; just stay home or find yourself a migratory, temporary dwelling called a cottage. The whole point here is to reconnect with nature, and to a greater or lesser extent, be at its mercy. 

How...rustic?

Like Bored Suburban Dad's series on Hiking, we're going to break this down into a number of volumes to really help my dear readers with advice that, hopefully, when it's all done, are long enough that you've forgotten everything, but you still somehow survive.

Make sure you packed everything

Herein, we start with the first of two absolute necessities, unless getting rained on, snacked on by mosquitos and spiders, and crawled on by a thousand crawly bugs or small or medium or large mammals is your fetish: the tent.

Unlike backcountry camping and hiking trips, for a camping trip, you are certainly allowed more gear and a lot more weight than you can fit on your back! A whole carload, if you like! You're limited only by your imagination and size of trunk-versus-passenger space. [note: experienced campers will sometimes pack their families like the rest of their gear: wherever there's space]

Blank Slate

Our amazing State Park System, on the whole gives every camper: a parking pad; a steel fire pit; a power hookup; and a big picnic table. Most also provide a community shower and functional bathroom where you have basic privacy from other campers, but not other mammals or daddy long legs. Yes, there are exceptions, from the more-convenient like water hookups, to the less-convenient like only vault toilets, and on. But let's start with this basic blank canvas. The rest is up to you and your nomadic spirit.

Comfy!

Paging Dr Darwin

You'll need a place to sleep. This seems obvious, but as we have disinvested in public schools over the last several decades, I feel like I should spell this out. I mean, remember this, with laundry detergent? 

Anyway, you want a tent, and when you jump online or head to your favorite sports or big-box store, there are just So. Many. Choices. What's right for me and my friends or family? How much or little? What does it need? Where do I start?

Fear not: I'm here to help you unpack (yeah, I said it) all that and find the shelter for you!

Selecting a Tent

1) Do not. Go cheap. On a tent. 

Maybe you aren't camping today, because you grew up, like me, in an era of bad tents. I remember, growing up (I'm a mid-Gen-Xer, for reference), when my Dad (the man responsible for my absolute love of camping and outdoorsing) would kindly remind me 1,000 times to not touch the sides of the tent. Doing so would wick the water from outside the tent magically to the inside. I knew this to actually be true not only because my Dad reminded me 1,000 times a trip, especially when it rained, but because I would also very much indeed touch the insides of the tent to watch the wa

ter wick inside the tent. Also, those old tents weren't very breathable. We would squeeze 4 people - 2 adults (but to their credit, my parents are tiny) and 2 kids - into a 2-man pup tent. Whether or not it rained outside, 4 people crammed into an itty-bitty too-small tent would create more or less a rainforest-like microclimate, and it would rain inside the tent on occasion. And let's not even get started on old tent waterproofing spray...

Seems we had a little weather
last night

Jesus, it's a wonder I kept camping. But, I was a kid. And when you're a kid, you tend to miss or overlook the bad stuff and focus on being in the woods and the magic fun of camping. Oh, to stay a kid.

Good, modern tent fabric is made of some fabric that is made of magic. It is highly water-resistant to the point of being waterproof. It's also breathable at the same time. Magic. Seams and zippers are waterproof-taped. The floor is thicker and waterproof-er. 

Going for a cheaper brand-knockoff tent to save a couple bucks will get you the same experience as camping in the late-1970s and through the 1980s. You get what you pay for. Don't skimp on the tent. The very lowest-cost cost-effective tent brand you should ever look at is Coleman. They've been around for a zillion years, and there's a reason they're prolific: their stuff works. 

But saving a few dollars in choosing between a top-of-the-line, Himalayas-tested all-weather Base Camp tent and a very good Coleman of similar size is a vast chasm of difference from going cheap. A 6-person tent should not cost $100. Cheap tents don't stand up to even the basic wear and tear of, oh, unzipping the door a couple times, or, wind at greater than 5mph, or, a light drizzle. Or setting it up once.

2) What Else Makes a Good Tent

• "Included rainfly"
• Polyurethane tent walls with a "hydrostatic rating." This is a very science-y word that means "how much standing water can just sit on this bastard before it leaks." Anything in the hundreds-of-millimeters is very good
• "inverted stitching;" this is a very fancy and technical-sounding phrase that means "we stitch extra stitching on here to keep anywhere where there's stitching from leaking"
• Taped seams. Special waterproof tape has been added to any "weak" spot where water could maybe come through. You can see and feel it; it looks like someone melted scotch tape onto any stitched seam.
• Flooring: the floor of your tent should look and feel like a super-thick, multi-ply tarp. Not a cheap-ass $8 tarp you thought would cover your junk in your trailer but instead tore itself to pieces once you hit 25 MPH. No, I mean the one where you splurged for the "nothin's gettin' through this baby" tarp, and indeed, nothing does, in part because it was an expensive-enough tarp that you can't bear to use it for tarp things. That's what the floor of your tent should look and feel like.
• Ideally, it's not just the bottom floor. Ideally, the company also makes the tent so the tarp floor actually rises 2 or 3 inches up the sides of the tent too, which really helps defend against running water. Which...happens.
• A door zipper with a waterproof flap. Keeps the zipper dry, and helps the door zipper not snag at a million o'clock in the morning when you have to get up to pee because you're 48 years old, but it's so dark you can't see to keep the zipper from snagging because you're trying to be quiet and man you have to pee
• Easy enough to set-up alone or with just one other person, because your smaller children will be spectacularly-unhelpful in setting up your tent, but you still need to set it up fast, because when you finally yell at them to Just Get Over There For a Minute, they could wander off, and you don't really have a minute.

3) How Big of a Tent Should I Get?

10 dead people??

We have a very American thing we do here, and it's based on not yet having adopted the metric system while adhering to the wild and varied Imperial measurement system in which measurements aren't related to one another in any way. This very American thing follows this formula:

1. Person A gives a measurement of, say, a distance, in yards
2. Person B expresses some mild confusion over how long that may be
3. Person A gives example in some other length that somehow makes more sense to Person B

For example:

1. A: From this site, the bathrooms are only about a hundred yards away!
2. B: ???
3. A: ...about 1 football field.
4. B: Ohhh, got it!

Buying tents works the same. Tents have a tag on the package that shows or says how many people it holds. Lies. That's how many people a tent holds if they're packed-in like sardines, and haven't brought anything at all with them other than a sleeping bag. See, this number, like the "about 1 football field" example, is merely a visual representation of volume. 720 cubic feet means absolutely nothing to us. 10 grown adults lying down? Ohhh, got it!

So, what's the right sized tent for you? Dear reader, over 4 decades of camping has allowed me to perfect the following formula:

• Minimal: Take the number. Subtract 2. That's how many people will comfortably fit in your tent for a few nights (3-4), in sleeping bags with ground mats under them. Not mattresses. Not inflatable mattresses. Roll-up mats. And a small duffel of clothes and accoutrements. 
• Minimalist: Take the number. Subtract 2. That's how many people will fit comfortably in sleeping bags, mats, with your backpack or gear inside, for 4-6 nights
• ...but what if the number on the tent is 2?
• Then it fits 2 if you're willing to sleep on top of your gear. 1 with gear. Or 2 with gear in an attachable screen or vestibule, which most quality 2-person tents include, because tent manufacturers know this volume measurement system. They've known it all along. It's some sort of conspiracy. And now you're in on it too.
• Best: Take the number. Cut it in half. That's how many people will comfortably fit in sleeping bags, on cots or Single inflatable mattresses, with 4-6 nights of shit and stuff and junk and extras

4) Other Considerations

• Should I buy a tent footprint? Not strictly necessary. If you're setting up on really rocky or rooty ground, it'll help keep the floor from getting holes in it.
• Many modern tens have a little Velcro flap on them for a power cord! When you "car camp" or "comfort camp" as we say it at a State Park, many of them come with a power supply. This handy little flap allows you to, without having to keep a part of your door open and welcoming for 5-zillion insects, run a long extension cord from that supply to your tent. Next thing you know, you're charging phones with a fan blowing on you so you can stay inside your tent all day and ignore nature just like at home!
• Dome tent? Cabin tent? What one?? 
• Lots of room to just spread out and make a huge damn mess like your bedroom? Cabin.
• Setting up in a crammed spot? Dome.
• Camping in an area known for not just high wind, but gale-force winds? Dome.
• Might be rainy or stormy a day or two? Either.
• Camping on Mt. Waialeale? Dome.
• Like sleeping on cots or mattresses? Cabin.
• Have to carry your tent a half mile or more from your parking spot because you couldn't get the right spot or didn't know what you were doing when you reserved one? Dome.
• Good, summery weather, temperate, gonna be there about a week? Cabin.
• Bottom line: a dome works well in smaller sites or if you're expecting really bad weather for an extended period. Cabin tents are great if room and weight isn't an issue and you want the convenience of just tons of space and can literally just walk around inside it

Final Recommendations? 

Cozy! Only takes about 2 dozen 
people to set up!

Again, Coleman is tried-and-true, and cost-effective vis a vis quality versus price. Core is comparably-priced and gets wonderful reviews. Eureka, MSR, and North Face are also very high-quality tents, but you're gonna get expensive. If you want to really impress people and have lots of disposable income, I guess you could buy this monstrosity.

For me and my family? I have the Coleman Sundome 6 and the Core 10-person cabin.

Amazing! Now you're ready tp spring for a new tent and try this camping thing! 

But wait...I probably need to eat? How do I cook food? Stay tuned for our next installment: So You Want to Go Camping, Volume 2; the Camp Kitchen!