On Camping …

The Champagne Chevy was the perfect vehicle for our journey.

To Roadtrek, the manufacturer of our esteemed vehicle, I tip my hat. This van is clever, well-outfitted, rugged, comfortable, fun to drive and a pleasure to live in. They thought of everything! Auggie and I had so much fun in it.

 

Yes, there were sometimes things that I wished were full-sized and that I missed from our real home, but for journeys to the next state or to the other side of the country, this is an awesome vehicle.

There is a marvelous community on the road of fellow “Trekkies,” many of whom we met along the way. When you pass another Trekkie on the road, you wave; they are family. When you see a Roadtrek pulled off to the side of the road, you stop to make sure they are OK.

Auggie and I met many cool people in their Roadtreks – we wish them all happy trails and hope to see them again in our travels or in theirs.

My education this summer on the world of camping was deep. I had only ever camped before in a tent, and at that, fewer than five times. (That's called "car camping.") This camping business was a leap of faith for me.

But campsites were full of interesting people. And interesting camping vehicles - they come in all shapes and sizes. Here are a few: 

Campers have pop-ups and slide-outs and doors. They are trailers with no engines that need to be towed, vans like mine with the car and RV all blended into one, and there are some that are the size of Greyhound buses that are massive and truly luxurious. There's a camper for someone who is fuel-economy focused, and campers for others who don't care how much fuel they burn.

(The Champagne Chevy averaged between 13.5-15.5 MPG. It was not my most fuel-efficient summer.)

And then there was the interesting phenomenon to me of the permanent site on a seasonal campground. See this photo below - it looks like a row of long, full-sized trailers with houses built around them. I never ran into anybody from one of these who could tell me whether there still was a camper under all that siding and porch, or whether it was just a long, skinny house that summer renters had built on the campground. If anyone out there knows, I'm still curious and would love more info.

And then, there were the actual campgrounds. Campgrounds are as varied as the people who run them. Some are wooded, some are in full sun. Some were in state parks, some in national parks, some in what looked like someone's backyard. There were these as beautiful, green and wooded as Big Pine Campground in Custer (the Black Hills), South Dakota ...

... as magnificent as Banff ...

... and the Hoh rainforest in Olympic National Park ...

... and Humbug State Park in southern Oregon ...

... and Big Sur State Park in California ...

... and Ruby's Inn at Bryce Canyon National Park.

And then there were some as dreadful as this one in Hill City, Kansas, where we were the only camper there on some god-forsaken plot of land, surrounded by dilapidated trailers/mobile homes inhabited by grumpy, nasty people.

It really runs the gamut, and you have to do your research to make sure you don't end up someplace dumpy.

Some campsites are full-service, and you have access to electricity, water, sewer and even cable-TV hookups. Mostly, Auggie and I looked for electric. Often that was coupled with water, so we had the essentials of what we needed.

There were many state parks where there was only a plot of land - some paved, some not paved - where there were no hook-ups. (That's called dry camping.) You use your batteries or your generator for electricity, and you use your water tanks for water. Dry campsites usually cost $10 or $15 (in California - an expensive state - they cost $35! Scandalous.) I didn't use the sewer that much and didn't require an always-on hook-up for that. Instead, I would wait for my gray (wastewater like sink and shower) and black (sewage) tanks to fill and then empty them at the dumping station on the campgrounds every couple of days. There was little smell thanks to chemicals in the black water tank that you add to break down sewage, so the system works very well.

And I didn't use the toilet in the van that much. Mostly only for quick pee breaks in the middle of the night, and to mitigate those, you learn not to drink too much water before bedtime. As far as showers were concerned, I only used the shower in the Champagne Chevy once. It was just easier to use the fully functioning showers and toilets on the campgrounds. (Though it sure was nice to finally get home and shower without my flip flops on. J)

The most fun we had on a campsite was probably at Indigo Bluffs, near Sleeping Bear Dunes in Michigan. The campground was wooded and well-maintained, the sites were private but you still felt like there was some connection to your fellow campers. When Auggie and I were taking our evening walk that night, we came upon a Class A RV (Greyhound-bus size) that had a large crowd gathered around it. This group of campers had brought with them a karaoke machine and had set up 30 or so chairs to make the audience comfortable. Their site was hopping! People were singing, laughing, having a great time. As we walked past, three teenage boys were making silly fools of themselves singing along to the Spice Girls. It was awesome.

We were very sorry that we only stayed one night there!

And that's where we had our first toasted marshmallows of the trip, which also made it a memorable stay.

So now here's a word or two to camping food.

I love toasted marshmallows, so I'll start out with them. Once I finally got the hang of the campfire, I was happy to build one every now and then to bring Auggie and me warmth, the crisp crackle of campfire wood and, of course, the orange, fiery and relaxing glow of those flickering flames on your face.

I don't like my marshmallows charred, like this one.

Instead, I like them golden brown, toasted underneath in the steady heat of the orange embers at the bottom of the fire. They take longer to toast that way, but the slow, steady toast makes for a delightfully warm and gooey marshmallow all the way through. 

I also discovered that my favorite "Lu" brand cookies called "Petit Ecoliers" - butter cookies topped with dark chocolate - make the perfect base for a less-messy campground smore. Wow - when I built my campfire and started off with those, it was hard to stop me. There was many a night of a wild marshmallow sugar buzz!

The Roadtrek's two-burner propane stove was actually pretty capable. Coupled with the mini-fridge and the microwave to warm up leftovers, I was able to create some yummy meals from our mobile kitchen.

 




Sure, at home I enjoy my full-sized oven, my toaster oven and all my pots and pans. But Auggie and I ate very well on our journey. And, of course, for me, a glass of wine and some chocolate for dessert makes any meal a good one.

Some of the bigger RVs do have full-sized ovens and all the luxuries of home. In our humble little Roadtrek, though, Auggie and I did just fine. We didn't cook any weenies over an open fire or roast any potatoes in foil in the campfire, either. I'm sure many people have a fun time doing that. It just didn't fit my diet.

Will I camp again? Absolutely. I loved it!

Will I camp again in an RV? That's a good question, and one I don't yet have an answer to. There certainly are cheaper ways to camp than in an RV. Tent camping on a mild summer or autumn night is about as good as it gets, especially when you add the crackle of the campfire - and the marshmallows - to make the camping venture complete.

All in all, I think camping rocks. I'm certain the 2011 Adventures in the Champagne Chevy will not be our last. I will go to REI and look for a tent and some other camping essentials to get myself prepared.

But what a great adventure we had, camping across North America. We hope to get out again soon!