A Busy Spring for Green Goddess Glamping

 

Garden or Basecamp . . . decisions . . . 

A lot has been going on lately both in my personal life and also on spring camping preparation. For instance, personally, last Thursday I received my second COVID-19 vaccination, and tomorrow I get to got to the dentist for a couple of small fillings. The vaccination side-effects were real but relatively minor, mostly fatigue and a lot of naps for 48 hours, along with a loss of appetite and a bit of a fever. However, it's now the third day and I'm back to normal--which means, of course, that getting tired and taking a nap will now be because I'm old and not because of a vaccination. And as for the dental appointment, it's been a while since I've had to have a cavity fixed, so I guess I shouldn't complain too much. I don't have to enjoy myself, but I shouldn't complain too much. (Update: those two small cavities turned out to be one large cavity beneath an old filling in a back molar. How do I describe the intense experience? Well, imagine twice during the procedure the dentist stopping, looking at me, and saying, "I'm not hurting you on purpose." I just kept repeating to myself, "This too shall pass," and it did--eventually!)

Retrofit to manual

One great happening is that I have retrofitted my Airstream Basecamp's electric hitch jack back to its original manual jack. The reason I did this was because the rear hatch to my Nissan Pathfinder SUV would sometimes not open with the taller mast of the electric jack. Philip Pickering at RV One in Des Moines set it up so that the retrofit was free, although I did have a two and a half hour drive. I had been given the electric jack as part of our purchase, but the company understood that having access to the Pathfinder's rear hatch was important and provided parts and labor for the retrofit for free.

"You're going to miss that electric jack," Philip told me after I had shown up for the retrofit. "I have no doubt," I said, "but even since I've been here today and the original manual jack is now back on, I've opened the hatch twice. There will be times when I'll say that I wish I had the electric hitch, but not as many times as I'd be frustrated by not being able to open the rear hatch."

Another great milestone is that we've bought the Zamp 230-watt solar suitcase kit for our trailer. I've only hooked it up once in the driveway to make sure it works. It was easy to hook up with the Basecamp being solar ready with an exterior Zamp plug. Although there aren't many places to truly boondock here in Iowa, there are a lot of primitive campgrounds and campsites that we can now stay at for longer periods of time. We didn't buy the solar roof package with the new unit because so much of our camping experience is in established campgrounds. I'll write in more depth on the solar system later when I've used it more. 

Yakima OffGrid cargo basket

I've also purchased a Yakima OffGrid Roof Cargo Basket, which will allow me to take some of the gear from the rear of our SUV and to open up the back some. My son helped me with the final mounting yesterday. I'm not looking to move a lot to the roof, but just some of our gear up on top will open much more space. Etrailer has done a good job of providing me with necessary supplies. Their prices are good, too, but if you find a cheaper price, let them know and they'll match it. 

Huntington Beach State Park, SC

This upcoming week I'm also looking to get both of our vehicles serviced so that they'll be ready for travel. The week after next I have an appointment at a local RV dealership to have our Basecamp de-winterized. They said they will let me watch and take notes. Next year, my wife and I might be heading out in January-February for some time on the Atlantic Ocean, maybe South Carolina. That means we would have to de-winterize when we arrived in warmer climes and then winterize when returning to Iowa, since March in Iowa can still be mighty cold.

Lake Michigan, Terry Cluchey photo

As for future camping trip planning, Sandy and I are organizing a fall trip to Michigan, using Traverse City as our focus spot since we've been there once. This time, however, we will explore both the shores of Lake Michigan and Lake Huron. We've already made reservations at two state parks, bought a park pass, and have also signed up for a year with Harvest Hosts. With a discount, the HH fee was under $70, and we think we can use the sites for on-the-road travel on the way up and back. Although some of the sites aren't much better than a Walmart or a Cracker Barrel, we have found a couple of sites that might work--and I'm researching more. Even with the parking lot camping at Harvest Hosts, though, there appears to be an effort to make the stay fun. The chambers of commerce, for instance, are consciously selling the beauty and uniqueness of their cities.

The funny thing is that we don't want to travel through the Chicago area, so rather than diagonaling northeast up to the lakes, we'll be traveling first east and then north on a route that skips larger cities, Peoria being the largest city we would travel through, I believe. When looking at our route on the Harvest Hosts' map, there is this band empty of host sites--which happens to be our route. I take this to mean that we have chosen a rural route, but one vineyard, one chamber or commerce parking lot, and one farm seem to be possible stopping sites even if they aren't located at the best mileage locators. We expect to be gone about a month.

Rathbun Lake, Buck Creek Campground, Army Corps

I also know that some spring and summer reservations closer to home will be necessary, so I'm looking at the Army Corps facilities and state parks for some times, trying to coordinate with the times school will be out for the grandkids, the swimming possibilities, and how flat the area is for kid bicycling. We want to do this at least a couple of times this summer, hopefully before the weather becomes too muggy, the water too scummy, and the chiggers too hungry.

Another topic that I'll be writing about in my other blog, Tom Kepler Writing, is the fact that my younger brother passed away two months ago. My parents, my older sister, and my brother are now all gone--kind of a weird feeling. My brother's passing has taken some time to take care of matters in addition to the emotional processing. I won't write more here except to say that we had some good camping times together, all of us, parents and kids.

Oh, yes, and top of all the travel plans, I've been working in the garden. Arugula, chard, radishes, and kale are up in the greenhouse. I hope to plant some cilantro soon, and peas, too. I've planted some lettuce, but it looks like I'll have to replant. Early year crops are always so much fun to plant after a long winter. Today's supposed to be 78 degrees, so yippee!

Ms. Bunny and I discussing the situation.

I had a funny surprise yesterday morning on my way to the dentist. I saw that the wind had rattled open the door to my little greenhouse during the night. Going to close it, I peeked in and saw a bunny looking back at me! She was in the process of making a nest, digging up some arugula. It was a great spot for her to nest--as long as I kept the door open and didn't mind her eating all the plants! I shooed her out and closed the door. Mamma bunny will have to find someplace else in the yard. 

Screenshot of the book cover (including guidelines and bleedlines

These are all the reasons I've taken a brief break from my blog writing. Soon I hope to be out camping again, writing about my experiences, and also writing about the great camping adventures others are having. Blog writing, at least for me, is a blend of personal experience, camping stories, and research. I've also almost completed a camping book on the experiences of RTTC tiny trailer owners. It will be available toward the end of April on Amazon. I'm planning soon to take two or three days at a local campground for one final read-through of the book. It's wonderful to be able to share, be it with blog or book, and I wish everyone a safe and fulfilling spring camping experience.

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A Season of COVID-19 Travel: a Full-time Small Trailer Owner Tells Her Story

"If you’d asked me a year ago how many face masks I owned, I would have simply stared at you in confusion, not quite understanding the reason for the question. Ten months into 2020, I can answer it easily: four cloth masks and two boxes of disposable ones." --Annie Wynn

Face masks, social distancing, campground security, and shopping for gas and groceries--I'm fortunate to have been given permission to guest-post an article by Annie Wynn of Wynn Worlds blogging fame. About a year ago, I wrote an owner profile, "Annie Wynn's Wonderful World: 3 Years on the Road," and have followed her blog since. Can anyone doubt that this 4th year of travel has been . . . unique? Want to know what it's like to live on the road during a pandemic? Read on.

November 9, 2020

--by Annie Wynn

In mid-July, I set out on a Southeastern adventure, partly to beat the Florida heat and partly because, well, that’s what I do, I’m a vagabond and my home is my trailer. It was my first outing since COVID-19 hit and that informed a lot of my planning before and behavior during this three month trip. (Note: I also tracked infection rates per 100,000 and death rates for counties and states where I was considering stays. In July, Florida literally had the highest rates in both categories for the Southeast, so it wasn’t like I was going from safety into danger; I was already in the thick of it just being in Florida.)

The goal: The cool forests of the Appalachian Mountains

ROUTING MAP

As with most of my journeys, I keep a map on my corkboard of where I am and where I’m planning to go. I don’t know why, it just makes me happy. Green pins are completed stops, and I use red for planned stops, with the blue pin being my current location. My route would be an arc, heading up to the mountains and then sliding back down to Florida.

PLANNING

Slower pacing: I wanted to drive less and stay longer in places, so most of my reservations were at least 4 days, some were 6 or 7 days, and a few maxed out at the 14-day stay limit enforced by most state and national campgrounds.

Careful Campsite Selection: More than before, I pored over satellite views of campgrounds, read reviews, and tried to pick out sites that had plenty of room around them. About half of the campgrounds I stayed at were repeats, so I had a pretty good idea of which sites had more room than others. But that other half? In general, my picks worked out. Labor Day, always a crowded time in the campground, was probably my worst site of the trip, but since I’d only made that reservation 3 months beforehand, it wasn’t all that bad and with a tiny trailer, I can fit almost anywhere.

Stocking Up: Given the hoarding of food and paper products that went on nationwide in the Spring, I worried about not having enough, especially in areas without a big city nearby. I started with a lot of toilet paper and paper towels, a two big plastic containers full of food staples, and another one mostly full of cleaning supplies (hand sanitizer, wipes, bleach spray, and so on). I felt prepared for almost anything.

Ports in the Storm: By the time I started the trip, I had three places I could go to ground if things went nuts. And I was never going to be more than two days drive away from Gainesville, so if the world exploded, I could retreat and hunker down with friends there.

While I didn’t do coastal spots, I did find a lot of water spots to enjoy

IN MOTION

Masking Up: I started the trip with four cloth masks and two boxes of disposable masks. My plan was to wash the cloth masks after each use and only use the disposables if I didn’t have a dry mask. But, cloth masks with 2-3 layers ake a while to dry, especially when it’s humid outside (and the South is humid in summer, trust me on this one). I ended up using the disposable masks a lot more than I thought I would. I wore them to grocery stores and pharmacies where I’d just toss them after the one use, especially if I noticed more than a handful of people without masks.

Social Distancing: Pretty easy to do in a campground, right? Well, you would actually be slightly wrong there. One of the more popular things to do is walk around the campground, since they are usually loops and paved. Some people stayed safe distance apart but some wanted to walk right up and chat, with no masks in hand. Yikes.

Walking Out: There were a few stores that I walked into and promptly walked out of because about half the people weren’t wearing masks or had their noses uncovered (which I so don’t get). I figured I could always get by until I found another, better-masked, store at the next stop. This is where the food stable storage came in handy; I didn’t have to buy groceries if I didn’t need to. While my intake of fresh fruit and veggies suffered a bit, I still mostly got what I needed on the road.

Meeting Up: It was a somewhat delicate dance to arrange meeting up with friends, whether we were camping together or me just visiting their town. This is where we are in 2020: asking how your friends feel about wearing masks and social distancing, and if they are avid socializers or mostly stayed to themselves this year has become the norm. I was fortunate that my friends were mostly self-isolating, avoiding big gatherings and indoor eating, and so on. We still masked up, for example, at a friend’s house for an afternoon and evening of catching up. And when a larger group of us (six or seven people) gathered several days of camping, we all wore masks even outdoors, as one of us is looking at some serious surgery in November and getting sick with anything would have derailed their plans.

If I hadn’t taken that wrong turn, I never would have seen these pink-wrapped bales of cotton

HOW THINGS WENT

Campgrounds were BUSY: Usually after Labor Day, the demand for sites slacks off, even on weekends. But this year, no way. Campgrounds were usually full every night and reservation changes were hard to do. In a few cases, the small size of my rig (17 feet) got me a site that bigger rigs would have to pass on, such as my Labor Day weekend site. Technically, it was a 20-foot long site, double-wide, so my trailer was on one side, and my Ridgeline on the other.

Most people wear masks: Honestly, they do. But as the summer wore on into the fall, I saw more people without masks walking into Walmart or CVS or the convenience store at a gas station. Even Walmart, which had vigorously enforced wearing masks in July had mostly given up by September, and I can’t recall the last Walmart I saw with someone standing outside making sure you had a mask on. It’s such a simple thing to do, and shows you want to protect other people, so why is it such a big deal? I still shake my head whenever I see a maskless person proudly walking into the store as if they’re daring anyone to say anything to them about it. And no one does, especially not in states with concealed carry. This is America in 2020, and all of it makes me sad.

Most Stores are Well-Stocked: With the occasional exception of cleaning products, most stores had shelves full of food and supplies. I gradually relaxed and started using up my stash of food and supplies so that I was carrying less around with me. (I was also still figuring out how to most efficiently stow stuff in the Ridgeline without having to unpack completely just to get to that one thing I wanted. This is an ongoing adventure in access control.)

Making memories: birthday paddle and hanging with friends in TN

It was definitely different being a vagabond this summer and fall. No museums, no treating myself to an afternoon matinee of the latest movie, and very little meeting of fellow campers. People kept to themselves or their bubbles, so most interactions were with people standing 10 feet away and that kept conversations short.

I’m hanging around northern Florida till early January, exploring some of the state parks and planning on some airbnb time for the holidays. So still in motion, just a lot less mileage and a lot more Gainesville, which is my home base.

What forests look like in north central Florida

TRIP STATISTICS

• Nights: 106
• States Visited: Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia
• Campgrounds: 20 (including one driveway stay at friends)
• Lodging Costs: $2800 ($26.40 average/night)
• Total Mileage: 3500
• Towing Mileage: 2350
• Gas Costs: $450 (rough mpg while towing: 16)

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Review: Iron Hammer Portable Electric Camping Shower

When COVID-19 hit this year, my wife and I decided to not use any campground amenities other than water and electricity. This meant that we had to use our portable toilet all the time and not just for nighttime visits. It also meant that we had to develop a procedure for bathing other than using the campground shower houses. We had already occasionally used a small plastic pan for sponge bathing, but with full-time self-sufficiency at the campground, we wanted to find a shower option.

After some online research of products and reviews, I finally decided to give the Iron Hammer Portable Electric Camping Shower a try. From the reviews I knew there was some risk involved with the product. The marketing on the product's box reads "More smaller -- More useful," as was mentioned in an Amazon review, so it was evident that this was not a product filtered through an American distributor. The instruction manual is also a bit difficult to read, although the meaning is discoverable: "When the product is fully charged, please dial the charging cable and the power adapter from the power outlet. Do not left the power adapter on the socket if not charge."

This product is produced by Shenzhenshi Lulutong Technology Company, Ltd., based in Guangdong, China. A Facebook page is listed but does not pull up when searched on Facebook. There is a Q & A link tab on the company's Laserbeak webpage at anygalaxy.com, but it doesn't load. There are international phone numbers and an email at this site. Checking the "Iron Hammer" link at Amazon, products associated with the words arose, but no clear contact links with the manufacturer. I'm mentioning this because if there is a product problem, communication would probably be . . . well, a slow boat to China. Such can be the vicissitudes of international commerce. 

Although the Amazon reviews averaged 4.5 stars out of 5 with fifty-six ratings, there were a few warnings of weaknesses and failures. Thirteen percent of the reviews cited some problem with the unit: arriving broke or breaking within 6-18 months (1-3 stars). However, that means 87% reviews awarded 4-5 stars out of five. 

Even some "4" ratings mentioned that there is no shut-off switch on the showerhead, although a water-flow valve is provided. As one reviewer mentioned, using the flow-stop valve stops the water but not the pump, though, which might damage the pump if maintained too long. I solved this by just reaching into my five-gallon bucket of water and turning off the switch located on the submersible pump. Some reviewers were annoyed by having to do this, but I found it easy to do. After all, my hand and arm were already wet!

I've used the unit regularly over this 2020 camping season, maybe ten times. When charged, the battery maintains the charge well. I'm camping for two weeks right now at a local state park, and when I went to shower yesterday, I realized that I hadn't charged the unit since my last camping trip about three weeks ago. There was still plenty of power, though.

I've used the shower in my Elephant Utilitent and also in a shower area I've rigged in my Clam Quick Set Escape shelter. I bought two five-gallon buckets with lids at Walmart for showering water. I only need one five-gallon bucket for a shower, but I bought the second bucket for my wife so she'll have plenty of water to wash her hair. Since the buckets slide one within the other, taking two doesn't take up any more room. This is a good time to mention that this unit pumps water but does not heat it. 

Using a stainless steel canning pot to heat water (which also doubles as a rinse pot for dishes), usually I can go half and half with hot and cold water to get five gallons. One bucket with a lid is my shower seat, and the other bucket, of course, holds the water. Usually taking a shower means that I'll be turning the shower off and on about 4-6 times as I rinse, lather, and rinse, head to toes. I could use much less water, but since I'm not boondocking, I just use whatever's comfortable--but five gallons is plenty for me. 

The unit has two speeds. I use the higher one, but the lower pump speed works okay, too. The unit charges via a USB connection. I have a little electric clock with USB plug-ins that I use in my tiny trailer. The pump comes with a little yellow plastic web bag for storage. I remove the showerhead and pump from the hose and store the hose in the bag. Everything, including the hose in the mesh bag, is stored in the original cardboard box, which is strong enough that it will probably last for a while. Be careful when detaching the showerhead and pump from the hose, though. There are two white plastic washers that would be easy to lose. The whole assembly can stay connected when stored if you like it quick and easy.

I'm happy with this unit. It does exactly what I want it to do, and it's pretty compact. I haven't had any problems with it, and hopefully it will hold up with use. I'm glad that with our portable toilet and shower unit, my wife and I can camp yet still maintain our zone of safety during this pandemic. 

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The What, Why, and How of Camping Staycations

You don't want to travel, but you want to get away. You're nervous about getting away, but you want to get out of the house. You're well aware of the risks of getting out, but with social distancing, aren't there some activities that are okay? The term "staycation" has been popping up more frequently now that people are staying closer to home during the pandemic. What is a "staycation," why is the word a current hot topic, and how can we take--these are all questions pertinent to the times.

According to Merriam-Webster, a staycation is "a vacation spent at home or nearby." A blend of the words "stay" and "vacation," the first mention of the word was in 1944, so it is not a recent word made up just for the COVID-19 pandemic. Our M-W dictionary detectives first found mention of the word in a full-page beer ad during World War II, citing the patriotism of victory gardens, gas rationing, and staying-at-home vacations. Staycation, it seems to me, is a very appropriate word for our current times--staying in place and social distancing in order to keep the pandemic from overwhelming our health system. 

Camping staycations don't need to be enjoyed just from home, although many of the first staycations mentioned during the pandemic were backyard and driveway camping experiences. Searching my own blog with the word "backyard," I was reminded that in the last months I've written quite a few articles about backyard and local camping, the most relevant article being "Safe Pandemic Camping? These Folks Discovered Their Backyards and Driveways." Scrolling through the search list, though, I realized that I've been writing about staycations even before becoming acquainted with the term, even before the pandemic. One article was written in early August about my setting up camp in a local county park just four miles from home, "Are We Camping or Picnicking? Who Cares." In that article, I was addressing the need to get away, especially focusing on my wife's dilemma of having an at-home business and really never getting out of the house. Although pandemic related, the article's focus extended beyond the pandemic. With another article, written in January of this year, "Camping Local: Discovering Your Big Backyard," the pandemic wasn't even in the news, but the concept of enjoying the benefits of local camping was still relevant. 

A camping staycation doesn't just mean camping in your backyard, your driveway, or at a local campground. Even full-time campers whose houses are their camping rigs can plan staycations, and many have changed their camping travel plans in order to "hunker down" by staying in one place for longer times while camping, with "Drive Less, Stay Longer" being the motto of the day. The benefits of camping for longer times when we stop extend beyond the patriotic origins of staycations, although helping keep ourselves and others safe is certainly patriotic or socially responsible. Beyond the common sense of the day is also the concept that staying longer at one place provides for a deeper experience of a place--a deeper geographical, historical, and ecological experience of a place. Not only that, staying longer in one place can promote a deeper personal, inner experience that nature can inspire. We can spend less time driving and setting up and breaking down camp; we can spend more time enjoying just being alive and well.

Good old Kampgrounds of America has published an article on their website that offers ten reasons for trying the staycation experience. Although the article isn't a deep dive (and has no reference to the pandemic), it does provide some good ideas to consider about why to camp locally, maybe even at home. 

• Save money
• Get a Fresh Perspective on Your Area
• Truly Unplug
• Save Time
• Test Out New Gear
• Say Goodbye to Packing Stress
• Improve Your Camping Skills
• Connect More with Loved Ones
• Recharge Your Own Battery
• Spend More Time with Your Furry Friends

"Furry Friends"? Okay, like I said, not the deepest list. However, all these ideas together do provide a thoughtful reminder that road trips aren't the only reason for rolling. Staycations have their place in the scheme of all things camping. Maybe it's time to take advantage of the "no longer than 14 nights" limit on a campground stay. That's right, just max it out! A two-week stay at a campsite means a half-day of set-up, a half-day of break-down, and thirteen days of whatever combination of rest and adventure trips your trigger. 

I'm not just a guy who researches a topic, a guy who engages in the concept with just my imagination, so I recently spent two weeks camping at one campground a little over an hour from home. Buck Creek Campground is an Army Corps of Engineers facility on Rathbun Lake in SE Iowa. Since it was the end of the camping season and because I have my federal Senior camping card, I was able to get the rate of $9 per day, which was great. I drove up for a first come, first served site and found one close to the lake, overlooking morning mists and sunset reflecting off the water.

Was the experience of camping in one place for two weeks "deeper" than camping in, for instance, four locations? My weather experience was four days of straight rain, followed by ten days of great weather. Luckily, I was able to set up camp just prior to the rain hitting, so my set-up and break-down experiences were dry and cool--and those of you that camp know that means wonderful. Because I brought my bicycle, the outer experience of my two-week staycation did involve quite a bit of local exploration--both by myself on my bike and with my wife on the weekends, when we hiked together and took some short driving excursions to other campgrounds on the lake. On the rainy days, I rested more, wrote and read, and enjoyed some cooking time in my Clam shelter. More time was available for both active recreation and also writing. I wrote three articles during my stay (and planned this one).

• Rathbun Lake: Bicycles and Tiny Basecamp
• How the Clam Quick Set Shelter Helped Us Through Four Days of Rain
• A Timely Note to Readers of Green Goddess Glamping

These articles reflect how I was active and what I was thinking. I didn't write about road conditions, traffic, and my GPS fiascos, all of which I've written about before. "Camp" started feeling more like "home," if you know what I mean. My wife visited on both weekends of my staycation, and truly felt she was taking a break from work. This staycation was fairly local at a little over sixty miles away, but the funny thing is that I could have as easily stayed for two weeks at a local state park that is only seventeen miles from home. Staying in one place, even well-known locales, can yield undiscovered places and moments.

It's fall now, and finding two-week campsites is much easier. In a little over a week, I'm heading out again to Rathbun Lake, this time to a different campground, Honey Creek State Park. My wife has never camped there, but she was excited to discover during our day excursion at the park that there are more bluffs and hidden coves to explore than in the Army Corps sites. I'm looking forward to time alone, I'm looking forward to sharing some camping time with my wife, and I'm looking forward to resting and exploring. I'm happy to know that I can do all this safely camping in my tiny trailer. Even during the time of this pandemic, it's great to know it's possible to keep myself and others safe by setting up my little home away from home for two weeks--on the beach, on the trail, and on the program.

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A Timely Note to the Readers of Green Goddess Glamping

It's been eleven days since I last published a Green Goddess Glamping blog post. This is unusual for this blog because I nearly always post post once a week and often twice a week. However, I'm seven days into a two-week "staycation" at Rathbun Lake, which is a little over an hour's drive from my home. Between preparing for my longer stay, resting here at the lake (one of this trip's goals), and then taking daily bike rides after an initial four days of rain, I just haven't completed any articles.

The irony is that I have about six articles in various stages of completion, yet I'm not quite finished with any. Between bike rides and naps, I've been too busy--if "busy" is the right word. Part of my rest time has also been psychological and emotional rest from the "new norm" of the world. I've been feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders and just felt the need for a respite . . . and so here I sit in my tiny trailer, typing by touch and looking out at the tranquil waters of the lake, a soft breeze rustling the leaves of the oak and juniper trees near my campsite, and the quiet of the day dominating even the sound of the trucks on the local highway. Buck Creek Campground is not deep, primal nature by any means, but it's a pretty fine big backyard.

Yesterday I ran across a term that defines part of the angst I've been experiencing: doomscrolling, spending excessive time reading negative news articles, kind of dumpster-diving news reading. I wrote an article about the term and its relevance to our current lives and want to share it with my tiny trailer readers. The article talks about how putting our attention excessively and needlessly on negative information can lessen our appreciation and enjoyment of life. The article includes some research I did.

As I wrote the above paragraph, a kayaker paddled through my line of vision on the lake. And, yes, this is relevant because right now I am not doomscrolling. I'm engaged in purposeful, positive activity, and I'm doing it in a nurturing, enlivening environment. The article I wrote is posted on Tom Kepler Writing: "Down with Doomscrolling!" (By the way, this activity is also referred to as doomsurfing.)

I plan for this next week to complete more articles about this staycation here by the lake: an article about the rain and my Clam Quick Set shelter, an article about my bicycle day rides, a "staycation" article--these are a few possibilities. In the meantime, I want to share the idea that the reason many of us camp is exactly the reason we should avoid doomscrolling. Although I'm not posting this on the Facebook camping groups I belong to, I'm publishing it and am glad to share it with those who follow this blog. I believe that although we have a responsibility to keep ourselves informed, we don't need to wallow in the woes of the world. And here by the lake I can affirm that being outside and camping is a good way to increase the positivity in one's life.

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Is It Okay to Cancel That Camping Trip?

I have the utmost respect for campers who push the boundaries of their camping experience--extreme cold, extreme heat and humidity. I also have been camping long enough to know that full-time camping, although a romantic on-the-road concept, isn't always easy when the rubber really hits the road. This is especially true for tiny trailer campers. The tiny space becomes even tinier in extreme conditions, even for one person, much less a couple.

That's why my wife and I have cancelled our planned week of camping in these dog days of August. When we originally reserved our campsites, the projected high temperatures were in the mid-80s . . . but the temperatures kept rising and are now in the mid-90s. We had reserved five nights at a local state park, then a weekend on the Des Moines River at a county park, and then five more nights back at the state park. (That's right, the weekend sites were booked at the state park far in advance.) It was a nice plan--spending ten days at a site with good shade and then spending a weekend at a campground on the river, a place my wife had visited but never camped at.

However, since my wife works online during the week, her options were for her to swelter outside or for us to be cramped together in our tiny trailer, and even though it's a standy, that's a pretty tight space when we're working. My wife puts it this way: it's not so bad to work together, but when I get tired and take a nap and start snoring . . . it's a bit much. And when she has to talk to a client on the phone, it's like, "What's that noise?"

Extreme conditions can be draining on the body, too. It's one thing to be out of a couple of nights, but another to deal with extreme environments for a prolonged time. In the Midwest, summer sun heats the lakes, which then tend to scum up, so even swimming can lose its appeal. Scummy water, bugs (chiggers, ticks, and mosquitoes), air conditioners maxing out . . . well, my point is that sometimes it's just okay to cancel that camping trip and stay at home.

We've put off our trip a week, cancelling the first seven days and keeping the last five-day reservation at the state park. Right now, highs for those days are expected to be in the 78-82 degrees range. Not bad! We are planning to be gone for at least a couple of weeks, now that school has begun for our grandchildren. We've been "sharing bubbles" of social distancing in our family but feel we want to take some time away in order for there to be more empirical information regarding how returning to school will affect COVID-19 infections. We don't want to get sick, of course, but my wife and I also realize that the last thing we all want as a family is for parents and grandparents to both get sick at the same time. Who would take care of the grandkids? The kids will be busy and excited, and it's just a good time for us to take a break and get away and do some camping. Also, thank god for Facetime!

Full-time living at Tails of Wanderlust--no pain in this photo!

Camping is supposed to be fun, and I personally feel no macho need to press through and experience discomfort if I'm camping locally. Camping does include times when we have to deal with more extreme situations like a thunderstorm, and that's part of the fun of camping, but it's not necessary to bring tornado-chaser mentality to the camping experience. I'm never planning on hiking to the top of Mt. Everest or to the North Pole, either.

Life is meant to be enjoyed. Camping with a tiny trailer as opposed to camping in a tent does definitely extend and expand the camping season. Even the tiniest camper provides more protection from the elements. If I'm camping locally and the thermometer is maxing out, though, then I'm perfectly comfortable, both literally and figuratively, staying at home. I don't mind coming home happy and exhausted, but heat exhaustion . . . no thanks! And, yes, those explorers to our North and South poles made history with their firsts . . . those that lived, that is. Sometimes there's nothing wrong with being a hobbit and staying in the Shire.

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Tiny Trailer Camping, Social Distancing, and KOA's 2020 "North American Camping and the Effects of COVID-19" Special Report

KOA Special Report

Tiny camping trailers are safe, easy to tow, and owned by a hardy breed of campers who don't mind getting outside and enjoying a bit of weather. As a camping group, I think tiny trailer campers are a less intimidated by the idea of self-sufficient camping that includes social distancing because of the COVID-19 pandemic. 

After all, what does social distancing and self-sufficiency mean for a tiny trailer owner? Many tiny trailers are bought with the idea of getting away and engaging in some "boondocking," camping off the grid and without campground support facilities. Continuing to boondock, therefore, isn't a big stretch for tiny trailer owners. Also, even if camping in established, full-service campgrounds, tiny trailer owners can use boondocking expertise to remain socially distant. 

"Wait a minute, now," astute readers might say, "aren't the big-rig, fully-equipped RVs the most able to be totally self-sufficient?" They've got full kitchens, great bathrooms, and are large enough to be considered tiny apartments on wheels. How can they not be better able to be self-sufficient? I can't argue with those facts--except that many large camper set-ups, when hooked up on Sewer Alley, are cheek by jowl with other RVers. Close proximity is dictated by the need to have straight runs for the sewer system. I would say that mid-range 5th-wheels and travel trailers are better set up to have full facilities and still be able to park in a campsite with a bit more space.

Tiny trailers, though, are able to camp in those tiny nook campsites, the ones that the bigger rigs just look at, shake their head, and move on. Tiny campers are even sometimes allowed in many campgrounds that use tent campsites, which are usually primitive and more secluded. Utilizing portable toilets and showers, tiny trailer campers don't have to worry about filling tanks and then having to pull the trailer up to the dump station often (although fully equipped RVs can buy the portable waste tanks to use to transport wastes to the dump station).

Even the most simple tiny trailers, as "hard-sided tents," possess a sense of being a haven of safety from people and the elements that tent campers lack. And I'm not knocking tents, because I've had great camping experiences with tents. It's just that in these stressful novel coronavirus times, I find the added security of my standy tiny trailer comforting. I find that I can settle more, knowing that I have more control over my environment, being a tiny trailer owner. Camping in my local area of SE Iowa, campground camping has become a hybrid experience of "boondocking" with electricity and water. 

Camping this season means self-isolating while in a campground with other campers. I find myself taking a stroll through the campground loops and maybe chatting from the middle of the road but not inviting myself or being invited into the campsites of others. The closest I came to another camper on my last camping trip was after a distance chat with a husband and wife, the husband wanted to show me a photo on his phone of his black powder muzzleloader rifle (and I wanted to see it). I just said, "Stand back. I don't have my glasses, so I can see best from a distance," which happened to be both true and the safe course of action. 

On May 11, 2020, Kampgrounds of America issued a special report, "North American Camping and the Effects of COVID-19," the information in the report based on an April 27-20 survey conducted by the Cairn Consulting Group. It's been three months since the report has been issued--and a lot of social and political water has passed under the bridge. Nonetheless, in late April, society had been in some form of social restriction for about a month, and North America and the rest of the world realized (with notable exceptions) that the pandemic was a significant event. What did the special report have to say? I've provided a link so you can read it in its entirety if you wish (it's nineteen pages, including graphics), but I'd like to share some takeaways regarding camping with small and tiny campers. Those surveyed were for the most part "leisure travelers," most of whom did some camping.

Not surprisingly, most of the leisure travelers planned to increase camping in their travel plans once the country opened up again. What we see now, three months later, is that fewer people are traveling by plane and train, and more people are considering road trips. Traveling by road with some form of camping capacity ensures the greatest ability to maintain social distancing. "Among all leisure travelers, prior to the pandemic, camping accounted for 11% of all trips while post COVID-19, camping is likely to account for 16%." Forty-seven percent of travelers who sometimes camped said they would replace one of their cancelled or postponed trips with camping. Of the travelers who wanted to be outdoors and camp, 41% said it's more affordable and 37% said it would be easier to maintain social distancing. My feeling is that now that the deaths in the United States from COVID-19 are hitting 180,000 that the latter (social distancing) percentage would be higher. Many campers, I'm sure, are looking at their rigs and equipment and asking themselves how they can tweak what they've got to be more self-sufficient and, therefore, more safe. I wrote an article in mid-March, "Camping in the Time of the Coronavirus," and I think my observations and suggestions are still relevant now, five months later. The main change is that we've become more accustomed to taking safety measures when we go out.

The KOA survey included asking campers how they intended to return to camping. What would they change? How campers intended to change their camping habits and routines followed what we probably would have predicted if we had been asked in April. Camping in small groups (or alone) was one intention; even those who usually camped in groups of 3-5 intended to go smaller. Seventy percent of those who camped said they intended to camp closer to home and that they were willing to camp at less popular campgrounds in order to avoid overcrowding. Campers were more willing to try a different mode of camping, with the availability of private bathrooms being an important consideration. More people were considering the idea of full-time RVing.

It's also no surprise that travelers increased their appreciation of being outdoors as a safer and less stressful environment. "The pandemic has impacted travelers' views toward nature and experiencing the outdoors--43% of leisure travelers say spending time outdoors is now more important as a result of the pandemic." Those surveyed also felt it was important for kids to spend more time outside. As late summer is upon us, it is easy to see why many parents are concerned that their children will be heading back to school where their children will be inside in groups. 

A comfortable, safe, self-sufficient camp at a state park 25 miles from home

This pandemic has created stressful and uncertain times for everyone, and campers intuited the need back in April for the nurturing qualities of the outdoors. Once restrictions were lifted, those surveyed felt that they were "most likely to want to explore (69%), be able to relax (67%), and be in the outdoors to clear their mind (66%)." If the survey were held now in August, I'll bet those percentages would increase, and of those three qualities--explore, relax, and clear the mind--I think "relax" and "clear the mind" might have the highest percentages. There was a 37% increase of travelers looking forward to when it would be safe to travel again. 

Ironic, isn't it? It's not safer now to travel; it's more dangerous because the virus has spread geographically. The infection curve is still rising, as are deaths. What we would hope is that campers have adapted their travel procedures to be safer from getting the virus, but on the news we see significant disbelief and rebellion against safe health practices. This (again, ironically) makes small and tiny trailer owners safer in their travels than many other modes of travel because they can easily tow their "safe house" with them . . . or they can go out for a day trip and take their portable toilet with them to use in their SUV if necessary. Nowadays, "portable and adaptable" are two positive points if one is trying to avoid the invisible and increasingly prevalent virus, and tiny trailers and tiny trailer camping equipment is nothing if not adaptable.

Even back in April, how to handle COVID-19 was not an unknown; it wasn't rocket science that the average traveler couldn't understand. Nine out of ten surveyed (and 95% of the campers) felt it was necessary to put measures in place to deal with the virus. For parks and campgrounds, depending on the specific situation, from over a third to almost half felt it important to moderate trail traffic, group sizes, and where to use masks. Three months later, these basic health safety measures have somehow become politicized. Why? The KOA report's tone was more that these measures were just common sense, the kind of thing you do if your kid has chicken pox or lice, only more serious because of the danger of a totally new strain of virus. We have to guard ourselves nowadays not just against COVID-19 but also from people who because of stress, high emotions, misinformation, and inaccurate reasoning are placing themselves and others in danger. When camping, knowing you can get inside your hard-sided camper and close the door is a comforting safety measure.

My dad used to say, "When you leave a campsite, make sure it's cleaner than when you got there." If we can apply his words to cigarette butts and pop cans, why can't we extend our intent regarding this pandemic to keeping our parks and campgrounds covid free? When boating we worry about keeping out invasive species. We pick up after our pets to keep campgrounds tidy and to not infect wildlife with diseases. Those are simple, straightforward, no-nonsense actions; maybe we can call them ecological versions of "sterilizing" and "distancing." No matter what our mode of camping, let's respect our parks and campgrounds. Let's respect our fellow campers. No matter what size our camping rig, when it comes to COVID-19, let's leave no trace behind. And for you tiny trailer campers, know that maybe you are leaders in a new lifestyle, one it seems will be with us for at least another year. Lead the way, and may we all have safe and happy camping experiences.

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