We did it! Karma and I just got home from our first ever solo camping trip. I chickened out and went for just one night. Figured I'd test the waters and see what kind of trouble one gal and her dog can get into.
Since I am still a little new to being "just me," I played it safe and stayed at a state park . And here's where I admit that, even though I consider myself a seasoned camper, the only camping I've done is out of the back of a car/jeep/truck in well developed campgrounds.
I take that back. When I was 14 we went on a weekend pack trip with our horses. But I digress....
This time around I wanted to follow the theme of independence, so I got brave and booked a hike-in site that I would have to, well, hike to. I was excited about this! It made me feel like I was getting the opportunity to stay close to relative safety, yet tiptoe closer to the line of "Off the Grid Camping" (meant to be said with a booming voice and jazz hands). Soon we'll take on week long backpacking excursions, I'm sure. Baby steps.
The night before the trip I barely slept. I was so excited for this little overnighter. Seems silly, right? Excited to drive 2 hours, pitch a tent, lie on the hard ground for one night, wake up and un-pitch the tent, then drive 2 hours home. Whose idea of a good time is that? Me. It's my idea of a good time.
As I started my drive up north yesterday morning, I called my mom from the truck. She'd been worried about this trip I was taking. She couldn't understand why I would want to do it in the first place, and I imagine she thought I'd probably end up getting murdered in the woods. She's like that.
When she made me promise to sleep in my truck with the doors locked, I laughed. I told her that the point of this adventure was to be independent and strong, and to commune with nature. Sleeping in the cab of my pickup didn't really match that scenario.
I arrived at the park just after check-in time, and as I pulled into a parking spot I saw a familiar face. One of my dad's oldest friends was there, walking on a trail to one of the campsites. I immediately called my mom to tell her this bit of information because I knew that would settle her nerves. She felt comfortable knowing that I wasn't alone all by myself in the woods, and gave me her blessing to sleep in my tent instead of the truck.
After chatting with this old family friend for a minute, I hurried to check out my campsite. This hike-in site was going to be so great! I had images in my head of a campsite deep in the trees with little woodland creatures and maybe a waterfall...
As it turns out, what I thought was "hike-in" was actually "walk-in," and my campsite was about 30 feet from my truck in a spot with about 6 or 7 other campsites. Still a pretty cool little patch of state park though! And it was mine, all mine, for the next 23 hours.
First order of business was to use the bathroom. I had fretted over the bathroom issue before the trip because I've never been camping with a dog without someone to hold/watch said dog while I'm using the facilities. I imagined 4 different scenarios:
1. I take Karma into the bathroom with me, make her sit/stay in the corner of the stall and hope she doesn't make a scene by barking at people.
2. I leave Karma tethered at the campsite and hope she doesn't make a scene by barking at people and freaking out because I'm leaving her all alone in the woods.
3. I go to the bathroom in the woods.
4. I just don't go to the bathroom.
And then I see it! Something I have never noticed at any other campground ever (potentially because I've never
needed to notice), the perfect solution. My coming to this particular campground must have been meant to be, because they had...
...pet parking. I was relieved. Pun intended.
Setting up camp has always been something I really like doing. There's something joyful about it. The commencement of a shiny, new, fun experience.
In the case of this particular trip, it was the initiation of my shiny, new, fun tent. It's your basic Coleman tent, nothing fancy. Two cross-poles and a rain fly. It was perfect. Just enough space for the two of us and everything I brought along for the night.
This campground that we stayed at is pretty cool. The park boundary butts right up to a river that has white, sandy beaches. I use those words verbatim... The park ranger that met me at check-in seemed legitimately excited to tell me about it. "And if you follow this trail, well that takes you straight on down to the river where we have white, sandy beaches," she said with a twinkle in her eye.
When I walked down there for the first time yesterday it was fairly crowded. If it's busy on a Thursday afternoon I can only imagine what it's like on hot August weekend days. And the beaches, they were sandy and white indeed.
Karma is not a water dog. She'll walk in if I'm with her but if she has to jump in she'll just run the other direction, and she flat out refuses to go out any
farther if it involves swimming. I coaxed her into the river with me and we just hung out for a few minutes.
And then she lost her cookies. She does this from time to time when she gets overstimulated. All of the energy inside her pours out in one fantastic burst and then instead of having a dog at the other end of the leash, I have a Tasmanian devil for approximately 3 minutes.
I had grand plans to spend my evening cooking on a campfire and relaxing. Campfires to me are one of the quintessential aspects of camping. Propane barbecue grills don't count, I mean real wood and kindling in a little teepee formation lit on fire.
But as luck would have it, last week the Powers That Be instituted a statewide burn ban until the end of September. Typically our burn bans still allow for controlled fires in campfire rings, but not this time. I was disappointed.
But to look on the bright side of things, I have recently cut sugar out of my diet. Campfires necessitate the toasting of marshmallows. Marshmallows have sugar. Seeing as I had no campfire, I was not tempted to toast marshmallows. Disappointment be gone!
I didn't want to haul around a cooler anyhow, not even a little one. So the lack of a fire also eliminated that need. Instead I was happy to just eat a peanut butter sandwich and an apple for dinner. You know why? Because it was just me and I could do what I want.
I was beginning to like this whole solo camping thing. Something else that's different about camping by yourself is that there's no need to do activities that keep everyone entertained. That was a real plus to me. I frequently just want to sit back and do nothing on a camping trip but that doesn't usually end up happening. It's usually the same old question, "So what do you want to do now?" Nothing. I want to do nothing except sit here and be with nature and my dog.
I take great pleasure in watching my dog enjoy herself. Watching her lay on the ground and just take in all the sounds of the campground provided me with enough peaceful entertainment.
I did bring along a book that I was hoping to read once the activity of watching my dog enjoy herself had cease to become entertaining. It was a book that was gifted to me by my friend Julie about being kind to yourself.
I had been going through some rough times a few weeks ago and she gave me this to help support my well-being. What better opportunity to read it than when I'm enjoying the peace and quiet of the woods?
The grandma in the campsite next door, however, made concentrating on a book next to impossible. Her poor grandchildren. "You left that light on! Turn it off this instant! You listen here or I'm going to whoop your butt!" Ugh.
So instead I ended up doing what I told myself I wouldn't do. I had hoped that I would not have cell phone reception so that I wouldn't be tempted to get on my phone and peruse social media. I allowed myself 30 minutes of phone time and then switched it to airplane mode. Again with the baby steps.
By the time we had reached a time at night when I could feel justified in going to bed, Grandma had cooled down to a dull roar. Either that or I had just begun to tune her out. Probably the latter.
I've been excited to try out my new sleeping mat. Just as I have never done anything but car camping, I have never slept on anything other than an air mattress. I did hours of research (okay, so maybe it was more like one hour, but that just doesn't sound dramatic enough) on which sleeping mat would be best for comfort and fit into my budget.
I ended up with a self-inflating one that was high quality, relatively inexpensive, and came in this adorable tiny stuff sack that fit nicely into my backpack. I realize that that's kind of the point, to be able to fit nicely into a backpack, but I was still amused. I patted myself on the back because my hours of research paid off.
As I drifted off to sleep, visions of the next day's adventures danced in my head. I had a whole day to myself. A whole day to myself with no itinerary and no one else to have to keep entertained.
One of the features of this campground was a giant hay field that was supposedly frequented by a herd of elk. I wasn't optimistic about spotting any elk, but I did think to myself that it would be a fabulous place to watch the sunrise.
I checked my phone. Sunrise was supposed to be at 6:16 am. Could I do that? I am most definitely not a morning person. But here I was, in the woods, on my first solo trip. I needed to take advantage of it. But who was I kidding, I knew that waking up that early was probably a joke. I debated on setting my alarm, but I opted not to since I knew it would probably wake up my neighbors.
So I went to sleep.
BARK! BARK BARK! I was startled awake by Karma warning off some unsuspecting passerby who was undoubtedly just trying to sneak quietly to the bathroom. I checked my phone. Sure enough, it was 6:16 am on the dot.
I dug deep and got up the energy to walk down to the field, and boy was I glad that I did.
This was a moment of utter peace and contentment. Not to mention I had an entire field in front of me with no one around to see me let my dog off leash. Totally a no-no in a state park so tell no one that I did this, lest they think of me as an irresponsible, crazy dog owner. Between her barking at strangers in the wee hours of dawn and me gallivanting in my pajamas in the middle of a hay field, I do enough convincing people of that on my own.
Past the field is the trail down to the river. I had to go see how beautiful it was at sunrise. One more thing to add to the peacefulness of the morning. Things like this make me wonder why I am not more of a morning person. Maybe I just need to teach Karma to bark at 6:16 am every day.
Okay, no, that's not a good idea at all and I would end up hating myself for doing it. So let's just forget that one. But still, becoming a morning person is a nice thought. I also want you all to know how proud I was of myself that I pulled my butt out of bed at this ridiculous(ly wonderful) hour.
I spent the rest of the morning exploring the trails in the park. They had 3.5 miles of nicely groomed trails, some that meandered through the woods and some that had beautiful views of the river. The color of the Skagit river in the daylight sun is breathtaking.
Before leaving for the trip, I had debated on whether or not to bring my camera. My Nikon DSLR usually tags along with me, but I opted not to take it due to the extra added weight and the fear that it would get stolen when I was using the bathroom. In the future I will know that I'll kick myself if I don't bring it along. (Have you noticed I had a lot of fears surrounding the bathroom? I learned a lot on this trip!)
In lieu of a nicer camera, my phone had to suffice. I would have loved to have gotten some better shots of the sunrise and the river, but this just gives me a reason to go back.
I would have been happy to just stay on the river and watch the world go by for the rest of the day. The issue with this, however, was that the temperature was climbing rapidly. The forecast predicted a high of 95 degrees.
If you're a Washingtonian or know anyone who is, you know that we like to complain about the weather. If it's too cold, we complain. If it's too hot, we complain. In the case of 95 degrees, it's a little unbearable.
I'm going to pretend that I wanted to get out of the heat for Karma's sake. After all, she has black fur and heats up quickly.
So, we finished the 3.5 mile trail system, and headed back to camp to pack up. Grandma and the other neighbors were all gone by the time we got back to the tent, and we had the rest of our time at the campground seemingly all to ourselves. It was a nice conclusion to our trip.
You know that feeling you get when you have a sudden and complete release from the stress of life, even if just for a moment? It's an incredible feeling and I was there. Even if it was 95...
So, moral of all this is that I am perfectly capable of "braving the outdoors" (booming voice and jazz hands) all by myself. Did I really doubt this in the first place? No. But the feeling I got from actually doing it was pretty great.
Now, where to go next? I know a pretty cool dog who is ready to take on the world, one outdoor adventure at a time. That is, after she gets some sleep. 🐾
