The van windows reflecting the view at a photo stop on our drive down Schnebly Hill Road into Sedona, Arizona.
Camping along Hole in the Rock Road
Slot Canyons Along Hole in the Rock Road
Camping Lessons
Each day on the road we learn a lesson or two. Here are a few of the highlights.
The Key Hunt. If it seems like I’ve misplaced my van key, I should ask Joe to check all of the pockets in all of his coats just in case he borrowed it, before I dive into the campground dumpster for yesterday’s trash, retrace my steps up to the shower house—even though it’s almost a mile away, or remove and shake every single item in my three shelf closet. It might save both of us time and anxiety.
Camp Towel. Always, always, always, double check your shower bag for a towel before stepping under the water. Even if your wife has already climbed in bed before she notices it on the galley counter and takes the time to get up, find her shoes and dash down to the shower house, chances are she won’t have the courage to burst through the men’s room door and call out your name. Joe reports that a tee shirt lacks the needed absorbency to get the job done.
One-Pot Wonders. Before leaving Michigan we had visions of soup simmering on our camp stove and plans to fix rice or lentils as side dishes. Those dreams died when the temperatures dipped below freezing. Now we are the king and queen of the one pot wonder — a cooking technique that limits dishes and outdoor stove time. Our favorite is egg hash. It’s an entree whipped up by sautéing any available fresh veggies and then adding any type of potatoes. We finish the dish by creating an open space in the pan and frying eggs. We sometimes have it for breakfast and dinner. Once in a while we fold the mixture into a tortilla, add salsa and call it a breakfast burrito. Perhaps our cooking will evolve as the temperatures warm up.
Creating our Cocoon. If an RV Park is our only camping option for the night, we can pull down our window shades, put up our front cabin curtains and then pipe Amazon’s “Cool Jazz” playlist through the van’s stereo speakers. In cocoon mode, the rest of the world fades away. So, it doesn’t matter that we are squeezed between two 40-foot RVs and are parked only minutes from the I-40 interstate.
The Shower Report. As van campers, we learned not to underestimate the revitalizing power of a hot shower, but in the Southwest water is a valuable resource. Not all campgrounds are equipped with shower facilities. We’ve learned to ask rangers at park visitor centers for directions to the nearest shower house — a luxury we gladly pay for, even when it’s doled out in five to eight minute increments. The first of us to venture in to a particular venue returns with what we refer to as the “Shower Report.”
At Zion Outfitters Joe declared, “Best shower of the trip. Clean, good water pressure and I was the only one there.” The shower was included with the camping fee at Sand Hollow State Park in Utah but each blast of water lasted only for 8 seconds. Joe noted, “If you remember to push the water button every 6 seconds, the water will stay on.” My favorite report was from Nevada’s Valley of Fire State Park, Joe said, “No bench for your stuff. Cement floor. Cement walls. Steel door - that clanks shut when you slide the bolt to lock it. Feels like a prison cell. Warm enough for a shower but not warm enough for you.” I opted out that evening.
Water. If my daypack is light and feels empty, then I forgot to refill my water bottles. I’ve learned that it’s better to go back for water than hike without hydration. This is a lesson best learned on a short, shady hike when your four-legged friend is not depending on you for liquid refreshment.
Dogs and Dirt. Multi-use trails tend to be dog-friendly, but they’re often also open to horseback riders. Dogs love to stick their noses and drag their bellies through everything from mud puddles to equine feces. We’re still working on strategies to mange our dog’s dirt level. After some hikes both her belly and her paws are covered in mud, while her back is covered in dirt and dust from rolling in interesting odors and she smells like a horse stall. We might have snuck her into a shower stall once or twice for much needed mud and horse manure removal.
Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah
A Camping Master Class
We spent the Thanksgiving holiday camping in Utah with our oldest son, Josh and his girlfriend, Paige. They’re a young couple who loves climbing, hiking and spending time out-of-doors. As we hiked together and watched them prepare meals, I felt like we were in #GoOutside master class. Here’s a few of the lessons we learned by observing their camping style.
Flip-flops. After a long day of hiking, give your feet a break and if the weather allows, put on your flip-flops. Changing footwear gives your hiking boots a chance to air out.
Lantern. One of the best ways to light up your campsite in the evening is with a solar powered lantern. With a bright enough light you can still cook outside, even on evenings where the sun sets before dinnertime.
Campsite Selection. End the day where you want to start your next hike. If you pick a campsite as close as possible to the next trailhead, you don’t waste any daylight on travel time.
First on the Trail. If you arrive at the trailhead before eight a.m., chances are you might be the first group on the trail. An early morning start creates a more personal experience on high traffic trails.
Puffy Coat Club. Camping is an outside activity, so put on your puffy coat — the one that makes you look like a stand in for the Michelin Man, pull up a chair and spend some time in the brisk night air. If the temperature drops below freezing, then look through your gear for a deck of cards, declare it a game night and hang out in the heated van.
Pork Gravy. Even if your diet trends toward the vegan/vegetarian end of the spectrum, canned pork gravy makes instant mashed potatoes palatable.
Camp Dish Duty. Camp dish duty can be completed in under five minutes if you remove the food remnants with paper towels and then rinse the dishes with hot water.
The Way Home. If you’re on an out-and-back hike and you come to a fork in the trail, create an arrow out of sticks to point your way home. Your brain might need the helping hint after a 10-mile hike.
Backpack Access. If you want to pull an item out of your daypack and not fall behind on a group hike, just swing your pack around to the front and wear like a baby carrier. In this position you can access your zippers and pull out an extra layer, grab a snack or put on some chapstick. This technique is only applicable on wide trails where you are sure of your footing.
Elevation. If your knees hurt, give yourself a rest day by picking a flat hike — little to no elevation gain or loss.
We had a memorable week with Josh and Paige and both of us loved all the tips and tricks we picked up. I do have to admit, I’m more of a triple wash and double rinse dish doer, but I’m still learning.
Molly: Joe’s Four-legged Best Friend
Molly, our nine-year-old Portuguese Water Dog treats everyone she meets like a new best friend. She’s always ready to race and romp. At our home in Cedar, she’s never far from Joe. Her favorite spot is under Joe’s work table, curled up at his feet. When Joe takes a break, they sometimes play hide-and-seek. If we’re off hiking in the woods and it’s winter, you might find the duo dressed in matching coats. On land she likes to play keep-a-way. Molly will only play fetch if you throw a ball out into the water. So, on hot summer days you’ll find the pair on the shore of Lake Michigan — either swimming or playing in the surf. Molly even comes along when we splash about on our stand-up paddle boards (SUPs). Molly is a restless passenger, so Joe keeps them balanced by shifting his weight. Once in awhile the board flips and they both end up in the water.
As you might have guessed, Joe wouldn’t dream of heading off in Wander — our new van — without his four-legged best friend. As we prepped and packed for our Southwest adventure, Joe scoured the internet for dog-friendly hiking trails and campgrounds.
At home, Molly spent so much time with Joe, it never occurred to me that her favorite spot in the van would be on top of MY pillow. After a long day of hiking, Molly’s prone to imitating a petrified log. In her immovable state, she seems to double in weight and it’s hard to coax her off my side of the bed. I do my best to go into alpha dog mode and claim some portion of the bed. Molly has both a dog bed and sleeping bag that we lay out each night in the passenger’s seat foot well. It looks nice and cozy to me, but she prefers our bed.
I have noticed that Molly brings joy to all the canine enthusiasts who are traveling without their pets. She’s not a barker, so most people comment on her quiet demeanor and try and guess her breed. Most believe she’s a labradoodle. Others approach us and ask, “Can I pet your dog?”
“Of course! Molly’s very friendly.” — is our standard answer. Molly will give the stranger’s outstretched hand a tentative sniff, then wag her tail before approaching the individual and smelling their shoes. True dog lovers, kneel down and give Molly’s ears a good scratching.
I do believe it’s better to have her with us than to wish she were here.
Razor Riding on Montana Mountain in Arizona
We spent last Wednesday in a Razor on the Arizona desert with our good friends Mike and Brenda. A lot of fun!!!
