Читать книгу Camping With Kids - Goldie Silverman - Страница 9
ОглавлениеPlanning Your Trip
What Do We Need?
What About Our Special Concerns?
How Shall We Camp?
Eleven-year-old Sara camps with her father and younger sister in a four-person tent; sometimes, but not often, their mother goes with them. Susan, her husband, and their four kids camp in two small tents, a parents’ tent and a kids’ tent. Ever since her daughter was only 3 years old, single parent Janetta has been taking her camping, sometimes just the two of them, in a tent that sleeps five; it’s roomy enough to hold the play pen that was her daughter’s bed when she was small. Marlene, another single mom, and her two kids, 7 and 9, sleep in the back of their big SUV, with down pillows and comforters; they use their tent only for storage and for changing clothes.
Jeannie and Porter also began camping with their daughter when she was just a toddler, but they camped in a pop-up tent-trailer, which has a floor and a hard lid that pops up to form the roof over canvas walls. Henk Jr. and his wife and kids, 1 and 3, also camp in a pop-up tent-trailer, but when the kids go with their grandparents, Henk Sr. and Elke, they camp in an RV.
Ellen and her family are co-owners with her sister-in-law of a cab-over RV, a truck with living quarters that extend over the driver’s cab. They alternate camping weekends with the other family, and once every summer they negotiate for a longer trip. Ellen’s RV is “pretty much complete.” They leave it packed and ready to go all the time.
Meeghan, a 12-year-old student, hasn’t tried it yet, but she thinks an RV would be the best way to camp, because it would be more comfortable and easier to cook in than a tent and she wouldn’t have to go home if it rained.
So how will you camp? This chapter will help you decide, with detailed discussions of tents, RV camping, trailers, camper trucks, and vans. We’ll also cover renting, and, since I know I can’t answer all the questions you might have, a short segment on some good sources of further information.
Tents
My family camped in tents most of the time, especially on weekend jaunts. We liked tents because we could pretend that we were rugged outdoor people, getting close to nature, challenging ourselves to live without civilized amenities for just a few days. We slept in sleeping bags on thin mattresses and cooked outdoors on a gasoline stove. We carried water from a spigot in the campground, if there was one, or we pumped water through a filter from a lake or stream.
Although we tried to get along with a minimum of equipment, we often had too much gear for the trunk and the top of the car, so some of it rode with the kids in the back seat. That’s not unusual for tent campers. It made for cramped seating, and we tried to stop occasionally to let the kids get out in a safe place and run around. We learned early on that it’s important to load the car so that the tent can be taken out first and set up before we did anything else.
We now own several tents. The largest sleeps four close together, with no room for storage inside; when we use this tent, we leave our stove out on the picnic table all night, but most of our gear and our food stays locked in the car. I like this tent because I can stand up in it, and it has a little extension in the front where the dog can sleep. When the whole family camped, one of the kids spent the night by himself in a pup tent. Both tents must be pegged down in order to stay up.
Practice, practice, practice setting up your tent!
Our second tent is self-supporting, which means that we can set it up in an open area and then carry it to the place where we want it. Sometimes we are surrounded by brush, with only the door opening to a clear area. We can sleep two or three in this tent, but again, there is no room for storage. This tent stands alone, but once it’s in place we peg it down so the wind doesn’t blow it away.
Our smallest tent, a backpacker’s tent, sleeps only two, but we have to take turns sitting up. It’s hard to crawl into this tent and really difficult to change clothes inside. It has to be pegged down to be set up. It is a very lightweight tent, which is important when you’re backpacking.
All of our tents have rain flies, and we have added a clothesline inside from one point to the other, where we hang the clothes we take off at night. We also have a pocket sewn into one of the side seams, where we stash our glasses at night.
CHECKLIST
Questions to Ask When Choosing a Tent
Is it big enough for my family?
Is it easy to put up?
Is it self-supporting? Does that matter to me?
Can I stand up inside?
How much gear can I store inside?
Does it have a rain fly?
Most tents are much larger than ours. Some of the largest have side rooms opening off the main room. Michael refers to his tent as a “condo.” It has three rooms, with curtains separating them. A tent with a peaked roof provides headroom so you can stand up and walk around inside. Dome-shaped tents come in all sizes. The largest have ample floor space, but you can stand up only in the center. Still, there is room enough inside for low camp cots if you don’t like sleeping on the ground, and there’s plenty of storage. Many dome-shaped tents are self-supporting. Some manufacturers advertise a “bathtub floor.” This means that the waterproofing on the floor of the tent extends up the sides several inches, keeping the tent floor drier in case of rain.
In the Northwest, where I live, most tents come with a rain fly, which is a cover over the tent with an air space between it and the tent roof. Rain and dew collect on the outside of the fly, and moisture exhaled by the people sleeping in the tent collects on the inside of the fly and not on the tent. Some campers carry extra tarps to use as dining flies, to protect their picnic table and cooking area from the dew and the rain. They tie the tarp to trees or to their tent or even to the car, if there’s no other place to tie it. If you’re camping in a dry, sunny area, you might want the extra fly to provide shade.
You will also see tents advertised as “three-season” or “four-season.” There is no national standard for designating seasonality to a tent, but in general, four-season tents have better protection against the elements, heavier coating on the floors, extra reinforcement around zippers and stress points, rain flies that extend farther beyond the tent, and better ventilation (to keep moisture from condensing inside). They are also more expensive. A family camping in the late spring, summer, or early autumn should not need a four-season tent.
If I were starting to tent camp all over again with my family, I’d buy a tent like the one I saw last summer when I was walking around a Forest Service campground talking to families with children. It had two rooms, an inner one and outer one. The outer room was screened on three sides. It had a zippered door to the outside, and another zippered door to the inner room. The outer room functioned as a mud room; it had a fabric floor where the two little boys were playing amid a stack of shoes. The inner room, the sleeping room, was kept relatively clean because all the shoes were left outside.
Tents with two rooms keep dirt outside.
We buy all of our tents on sale at the beginning of the season (last year’s model) or at an end-of-season clearance. Prices for tents vary considerably. A family tent, which can accommodate six to eight people, advertised in my latest REI sale catalog, is $260, reduced from $350. Campmor, a discount outfit that issues a popular catalogue, lists family tents for four or more at $100, $120, $150, or $190. Larger tents from Campmor that sleep six to eight are $260 and $330. Your local outdoor store or warehouse outlet will often have deals as good as or better than these.
If you’re a garage sale or thrift shop fan, you can often find good deals on a used tent. Some communities hold gear swaps, another good source for a used tent, but remember it’s buyer beware when you buy a used tent.
Sometimes a friend is willing to lend a tent, so you can try camping before you spend any money. Some people are reluctant to share their outdoor equipment because it requires good care.
In that case, you may have to rent. (See the section on renting.) Rental fees for tents will vary with the size of the tent and the season; expect to pay more if you rent over a holiday weekend. My most recent REI price list gave the fee of $28 for the first day and $14 for each additional day for a five- to six-person tent. Prices may have gone up since then. In addition to REI, many of your local sporting goods and outdoor stores will rent tents and camping equipment. Wherever you rent, don’t expect a lot of choices; you have to be content with what’s available. If you rent for your first trip and plan to continue camping, it might be wise to put your rental fees toward your purchase.
A spacious three-room tent sleeps six to eight.
Regardless of the size of the tent you plan to take, or whether it’s rented, bought, or borrowed, you should practice setting it up outside on your lawn or in a park before you go. In fact, it’s a good idea to put it up and take it down several times, so that you won’t get into a situation like Maggie did on her first trip. Her family arrived at the campground late, and they had to set up an unfamiliar tent in the dark, trying to read the instructions by flashlight.
Tents are fine in the summer, but if you’re planning a camping trip in the fall or early spring, you and especially your children might find the tent inadequate. You may need a more substantial home away from home, like a motorhome or a camper with a heater or at least some protection from the wind.
Some years ago, my husband and our youngest son went off to the mountains in early autumn for a father-son weekend with Indian Guides, a program of the YMCA. They were guests in a camper truck. During the night, the temperature dropped below freezing, and the groceries in the truck—bananas, oranges, bread, sitting outside on the counter—froze solid, but the milk, inside the well-insulated cooler, remained liquid.
On another, longer vacation some years ago, my family rented a travel trailer that we hitched to a station wagon. When we stopped for a few days, we unhitched the trailer and left it in camp while we went off exploring in the wagon. We found the trailer cozy during the rainy nights on the Oregon coast, but when we cooked inside on the propane stove, all the windows ran with moisture.
That was a long time ago. Today, there are many more options for shelter, depending on what you require for comfort and what you can afford to pay.
RV Camping
An RV can be one of several kinds of rolling homes. The critical component is that all have wheels. RVs are self-contained, which means that they carry propane gas for cooking and heating, a water supply for kitchen and bath, batteries for lights, microwave and exhaust fan, and a holding tank for waste from the kitchen and bath. Some have a “dual fuel” refrigerator, which runs on electricity or propane. Others have slide-out walls that zoom out to create more living space when they are parked.
The most luxurious of RVs is the motorhome, a small or sometimes not so small, bus or van where the driver’s compartment is open to the living space. But an RV can also be a trailer or a living unit—a camper mounted on a pick-up truck.
CHECKLIST
Questions to Ask About RVs
Is it large enough for my family?
Where will everyone sleep?
Where will everyone ride?
Who will drive it or how will it be towed?
Does it have all the features that I want—kitchen, bath, connections?
Does it have too many conveniences, way beyond roughing it?
In a motorhome, passengers ride in the living areas. Sometimes there is a second set of swivel chairs, with seat belts, behind the driver and co-pilot. There is more leg room and “wiggle room” in these spaces than there is in a conventional automobile, and children who tend to poke each other in the car can be separated more easily. Motorhomes have one or more television sets, which some parents find useful in keeping the kids occupied during long drives.
When you stop for the night with a motorhome, you don’t just park it. You have to level it, with jacks or ramps, so that all the appliances will work properly. On some models, the jacks are part of the frame. It’s easier to do this leveling if your campsite has a concrete pad, but in more primitive campgrounds you may have to park on dirt or gravel.
When the RV campers stop, they prefer the kind of park where they have a complete hook-up, which means they connect to water, electricity, and sewer, although some sites have only water and electricity. Some private parks also provide phone, internet, and cable TV connections. If the RV campers must take a campsite without a sewer or water hook-up, they can use the park’s water and bathroom facilities. Some campers pull out portable generators that run on gasoline to power their motorhomes when there is no electrical connection. Other campers sometimes complain that these generators are too noisy, but I was assured by the dealers at the RV show that the new models are quiet. Still, most parks have hours when the generators can’t be run.
Many motorhomes have luxurious interiors.
Because they are self-contained, RV campers are also able to stop in areas with no facilities at all. They call this kind of camping “dry camping,” which means that they are totally dependent on the gas, water, and batteries that they carry to supply all their needs. I once saw an RV, obviously occupied, parked on a street in San Francisco early in the morning, but most dry campers are like my friend Deborah. Deborah and her family are hikers. They like to park their RV at the end of the road where several trails lead off into the mountains. Every day, they hike up to a different destination, and then come down again to spend the night in their RV.
Dry campers must calculate very carefully how they use their resources. One long shower could empty the water tank. Too long a stay without a stop at a dumping station might overload their waste-holding tank. Deborah carries a water filter so they can augment their water supply by pumping water from a lake or stream for cooking and drinking, and showers are strictly limited.
When you stop for the night with a motorhome, your vehicle stops with you. You can’t take off to go exploring unless you are towing a second vehicle. Our friend Henk refers to the small sedan he pulls as his “dinghy,” likening it to the little boat attached to a big cruiser. On steep mountain grades when the motorhome is working hard, they detach the dinghy and his wife drives it until they reach more level ground. Like most drivers who tow a small car, Henk prefers to camp at a site that is a pull through, meaning that he can drive straight ahead when he leaves. It’s hard to back up a big motorhome, and even harder with the dinghy attached. Henk warned that not all cars can be used as dinghies. Some with automatic transmissions can’t be towed and need to be carried on a trailer; check the owner’s manual of your vehicle for instructions on how it should be towed.
Renting an RV is not inexpensive. One national company I consulted had summer rates beginning at $157 per day for the smallest motorhome that sleeps four, with a minimum rental of seven days. Rates went down to $140 per day for the same vehicle for 11 days or longer. Another company advertised longer motorhomes that have slide-outs and sleep seven for $225 per night, with a three-night minimum. These fees did not include mileage charges beyond the daily maximum, personal furnishings, taxes, or campground fees, which range from free in some undeveloped forest areas to $25 and up in private campgrounds. (See more about renting at the end of this section.)
In addition, there is the cost of fuel; depending on size, RVs get 8 to 12 miles per gallon of fuel. To buy that smallest motorhome that sleeps four, used, with 90,000 miles, but inspected, refurbished, and backed with a limited warranty, the company asks $24,995, or $257 per month. A new one would be even more.
Remember that the RV you buy must be stored someplace when you’re not using it, and that may be an additional cost. A storage lot in Seattle charges by the foot for a locked, outside yard. Their minimum for a 20-foot vehicle is $95 per month. After that, they add $4.50 per foot per month.
Trailers
Leaving your “home” to go exploring isn’t a problem with a trailer. You can unhitch the towing vehicle and drive into town, leaving your home behind. Vacation homes that are towed are either travel trailers or fifth wheels. A trailer is hitched to the frame of a vehicle, either a truck, SUV, or sedan, but the fifth wheel can only be attached to the bed of a pick-up truck.
A tent-trailer combines the best features of a tent and trailer.
Large models of these towed homes are very similar to the motorhome, with plumbing and electrical systems, awnings, kitchens, microwaves, and TV sets, and they also need to be leveled when they are parked in camp. A difference is that motorhomes open directly into the driver’s compartment; if you have a trailer, you have to leave the driver’s compartment and walk outside in order to enter the living space.
Designers of these trailers, like those who design motorhomes, create different floor plans to accommodate varying lifestyles. There is often an extension over the towing vehicle where two people can sleep, with a small ladder leading up to it. Kids tell me they really like to sleep on the raised bunk. Other furnishings inside the trailer fold up or out of the way to provide more beds. According to Matthew, who is 11, “Trailer camping is the ultimate way to spend the summer.”
Ordinary passenger cars can tow lightweight tent-trailers.
The heavier your trailer is, the beefier your towing vehicle must be. If you’re renting a trailer, the agent will want to know how you plan to tow it, and he may reject your car if it isn’t powerful enough. SUVs, vans and sedans can pull some, but not all trailers, but as the trailers become smaller, the amenities are fewer. The smallest of trailers will have only enough space for sleeping and storage, and possibly a cooler and a chemical toilet, but even a compact car can pull them.
Like motorhomes, the price of a trailer will vary considerably, depending on its size and the amenities inside. In a recent issue of RVLife, I saw used trailers advertised as starting at $9500, but some went above $32,000, and many advertisers did not list price at all. The rental for a trailer from one national company was $89 per night for a trailer that sleeps five, to $109 per night for one that sleeps up to eight. Taxes, propane refueling, and a rented trailer hitch are additional costs.
A pop-up or tent-trailer is a kind of hybrid. It’s a neat, low, solid-looking unit when it is being towed. Once it’s parked in camp, the solid top goes up, fabric walls with sewn-in screens rise, and two or three of the sides pop out to create beds. Although it seems like a tent, it’s a whole lot easier to set up, and the smooth and level floor is bare of little rocks and twigs poking through. There’s lots of room to store things on the floor of the pop-up, even when the top is down and secure. Some models have additional storage compartments accessible from the outside of the unit. Pop-ups come with kitchens; some even have chemical toilets and collapsible shower stalls. These units are much lighter than other trailers, so ordinary passenger cars can tow them.
Pop-ups need to be leveled too, and, even then, walking in the trailer feels like rolling in a boat. Sleeping in a pop-up trailer is almost like sleeping in a tent, except that you have a big, comfortable bed instead of a skinny cot or hard ground. When my friend Christine was an infant, her mother told me, they put her in one of the big beds and piled clothing and duffels on the edge to keep her from rolling out.
Like the people in big motorhomes, trailer campers prefer pull-through campsites. Backing a trailer into its space is really tricky. Gloria told me that her husband never did get the hang of backing up their pop-up tent-trailer. She did it easily, she said, and their 9-year-old son was expert at leveling it.
If you’d like to rent a tent trailer, you’ll have to do a lot of research on the internet and in your local directories. Not many rental agencies carry them. If you choose to buy a tent-trailer, you’ll find it more expensive than a tent, but less than a trailer. At a recent RV show that I attended, the most minimal tent-trailer, one that could be towed by a passenger car, sold for only $1500. A salesman who assured me that his tent trailers were “top of the line” told me their prices ranged from $6000 to $16,000. Before you buy one, be sure you have space to store it.
Truck Campers
A truck camper is like a trailer set on the chassis of a pick-up truck. It, too, may have a sleeping area over the cab. These units are popular with rental agencies. Zach liked the fact that his bed was always available, without having to be converted from a sofa or a dinette. Campers tend to be quite compact, but the manufacturers manage to include kitchens, bathrooms, and ingenious storage and sleeping arrangements. On some units, the whole back wall opens up and a ramp slides out, creating a “garage” where you can tie down a motorcycle, an all-terrain vehicle, or a powered wheelchair.
You often see truck campers towing boats or trailers full of motorcycles or bicycles, but like the motorhome, if you want to drive a camper into town, you’re taking your home with you. Unlike motorhome drivers, whose compartment is open to the living quarters, camper drivers must leave their seats and walk around the back to enter.
An additional concern with a camper is space for the travelers. Unless the cab of the camper has a back seat, there is no space for the family. Ellen’s children like to ride in the bed over the cab of their camper, which she allows on country roads, but on freeways they sit in the back seat of the big cab.
When they were smaller, Ellen’s children shared a bed in the camper or slept outside in a tent with a parent. Now her 10-year-old sleeps leaning back in the front seat of the cab while her 9-year-old sleeps in the bed made up from the dinette, and the parents get the over-the-cab bed.
There is a toilet in their camper, but Ellen limits its use. “There’s only so much you want to deal with,” she explained. If the camp they are visiting has hook-ups and a dumping station, they dump on arrival before attaching the sewage hose. If there is no hook-up, they encourage the use of the camp toilet facilities, and dump just before they leave.
Even though their camper is smaller as RVs go, each member of the family has a cupboard for his or her own clothing, and there’s a big bag for dirty clothes. There’s also ample room for fishing gear, the scooter, books, and horseshoes.
If you already have a pick-up truck, you can add a fully equipped new camper to it for only $8000, an ad in RVLife assures me. This does not include installation. Otherwise, add the cost of the truck of your choice to the price of the camper.
Vans
Who will get to sleep in the “upper berth” of this van?
Another kind of RV that you see less often in the RV shows and in camps is the van that has been converted to or outfitted as a camper. Vans are compact and easy to drive. Alaina’s van has a pop-up top over a bunk where her kids, Oscar and Isabela, both 6, sleep. The kitchen and a double bed are on the main floor. Holly’s EuroVan has a pop-up top with a bed, too, but her kids prefer to sleep in tents outside. When campers with a van arrive in camp, they park; no leveling is necessary. When it’s time to leave, they secure the pop-up top and off they go.
Camper vans are expensive and hard to find. One dealer, who told me they no longer sell camper vans, told me that the last one they sold went for $44,000. I talked to Duane at a company near my home that is a “custom shop.” They convert the van of your choice to a camper. Duane said that no two customers want the same things in their van, and that recent conversion costs ranged from $1500 to $15,000, depending on the amenities that were installed. He said that storage was the biggest concern of their customers.
EXPERT’S ADVICE
Renting RVs
If you’re thinking of renting an RV, Roger Arnell of RV Gold, Inc., recommends renting the smallest RV that can possibly meet all your needs for sleeping and safe travel. This will ensure that you’re comfortable but not paying too much in rental fees or gas for an RV that is larger than you need.
Renting
As a novice camper, you may still be confused or at least undecided about which to choose among the many possibilities—tent, RV, or something in between. Remember, the good news is that you don’t have to make a permanent decision when you’re planning your first camping trip. If you want to begin by trying a tent, call up those friends who will let you borrow one. Better still would be friends who have more than one tent, and who would camp with you that very first time. If not, you can always rent a tent for your camping trial. Look in your local phone directory for rental companies and outdoor stores, and call around to see if they rent tents and other camping equipment. The REI store in my city rents tents, stoves, sleeping bags, pads, and lanterns. REI has outdoor stores all over the US; to find one close to you, call 800-426-4840 or go to www.rei.com.
CHECKLIST
Questions to Ask When You’re Renting an RV
How large of a unit do I need?
What furnishings are included?
How will I be charged?
What about insurance?
What happens in case of a breakdown?
If you want to begin by trying an RV, renting is even easier. Almost every city has RV rental agencies. If you can’t find one where you live, you can drive or fly to a nearby city and pick up your RV there. Or you can have the RV delivered. Roger Arnell, of RV Gold Inc. near Sandy, Oregon, told me that most of his deliveries are to the airport in Portland or Seattle, but for a small fee he will also deliver to your home in Washington, Oregon, or northern California.
Roger recommends that you rent the smallest RV that can possibly meet all your needs for sleeping and safe traveling space. It will be easier to drive and also will use the least amount of fuel.
If you pick up the RV in your own city, you can drive it home and load it up with your own dishes, kitchenware, and bedding, but if you drive or fly to a pick-up destination, you may need to rent those necessities. Roger calls them “convenience kits.” When Roberta and her family flew to Las Vegas to tour the national parks in a Cruise America rental, they paid extra for furnishings, but when Sara and her family flew to San Francisco to camp at Yosemite, they each checked two suitcases, one with city and camp clothes, and the other with camping equipment.
When you’re making rental arrangements, be sure to factor in the cost of the furnishings that you will need. On the big island of Hawaii, two agencies rent camper trucks. At first glance, one seems much more expensive than the other. When you look closely at what you’re getting, the cheaper rental is bare bones; anything you might need—bedding, cookware, dishes, beach umbrella, propane stove—is extra. On the other hand, the more expensive rental includes everything you might want for a week of Hawaiian camping.
There are some important questions to ask at the time that you rent: How will you be charged, by the day or by the miles? What is the fee if you drive extra miles beyond what is allotted? Will your automobile or homeowner’s insurance policy cover you in the event of an accident, or do you need to buy additional insurance? What happens if you have a breakdown in the rented RV? Who should you call? Who pays for towing?
Resources for RV Renters and Buyers
If you’re thinking of renting or buying an RV, there are many sources on the internet and in magazines to check for detailed information on driving and towing, shopping for a new or used RV, and comparing different units so you can find the best one for you.
The Good Sam Club, an organization of RV owners, is dedicated to making RVing safer and more enjoyable. They offer discounts, triprouting, and other services, and in many areas they support local chapters for one-on-one advice and mentoring. They also have advice for RVing with children. Reach them at www.goodsamclub.com or 800-234-3450.
GoRVing (www.gorving.com), a service developed by RV dealers, will send you a free getting started video for first-time RVers. Another good site for sharing general RV information is www.rversonline.org. If you’re worried about driving the RV, RV Rite (253-435-8666) sells training manuals for all recreation vehicles. Several magazines might also be helpful, including Camping Life Magazine (www.campinglife.com or 310-537-6322), Motorhome Magazine (www.motorhomemagazine.com or 800-678-1201), or Trailer Life (www.trailerlife.com or 800 825 6861). Some of these publications will send you one free issue or sign you up for an online newsletter. Camping Life plans to debut a television program on the Outdoor Life Network in 2006.
Where Shall We Go?
We live in a wonderful country. We have an unbelievable number of places to camp in the US. Planners or visionaries at every level of government, national, state, county, and even some cities, have provided sites where we can park our motorhomes or set up our tents. In some areas, it’s possible to “camp” in a cabin, a yurt, or a refurbished caboose. And that’s not counting private campgrounds or parks in Canada!
If you already know where you are going for your upcoming camping trip, you can skip this section and go on to the next. But maybe you’ve never ever camped before. Maybe you’re not sure of where you want to go and you want some help finding a spot. Or perhaps you know what you want, a forest or a swimming lake or a place to fish, but you don’t know where to find it. You might simply be overwhelmed by all the choices and don’t know how to begin selecting a destination.
Some campgrounds have playgrounds.
In any of those cases, stick with me. This section begins with a discussion of planning first camping trips, which will probably be close to home. The sections that follow describe public and private camping choices, and then camping farther afield. You will learn how to make and use an itinerary, how to research out-of-state campgrounds, and how to find private campgrounds. The last sections cover making reservations and camping without reservations.
How Much Travel Will Your Children Tolerate?
The most important guideline in all the planning that you do is knowing what your kids will tolerate. If this is a weekend trip—one day out, one or possibly two nights away, and one day to return—figure out how many hours your kids are willing and able to spend on the road in one day.
Janetta, a single mom, realized that she and her daughter could tolerate a drive of only one and a half hours from Seattle, singing and talking, while Jeanie and her husband were able to drive for three hours from their home in Bakersfield, California, to good fishing spots. Jeanie says she spent most of the drive reading to young Christine.
Don’t assume that your kids will be sitting in the car the whole time you’re driving; build into your trip the time for several stops where the kids can get out and run around. Plan for these stops in highway rest areas, in towns along the way where you can look for playgrounds in local parks or school grounds, or in fast food outlets that have play facilities attached.
HELPING HANDS
The Destination Game
To determine where you should camp, first figure out how many hours of driving your family can tolerate. Next, enlist your children’s help for this exercise: Using the distance key on the map, cut a piece of string that represents the distance you can travel from your hometown. Tie the string to a pencil. On a map of your state, pin the other end of the string over your hometown, and draw a circle as many hours away as your family can drive in one day. Your destination is somewhere in that circle. Look for the symbols for overnight camping.
First Camping Trips
After you decide on the number of hours your family can travel in one day, you can determine where you should go. Here is a simple trick to help you do this: First, get out a map of your state and, using the map’s scale, measure a piece of string that represents the distance on the map your family is willing to travel. Next, tie one end of the string to a pencil and, with your finger, pin the other end on the map on your hometown. Now pull the string taut with the pencil and draw a circle around your hometown.
EXPERT’S ADVICE
Two Rules for First-Timers
1. Don’t go too far from a town for your first effort, in case you forget something important.
2. Make your first trip short, even if you have a lot of time, until you get the hang of camping.
The circle’s radius—the length of the string—represents the distance your kids can tolerate in the car to your campground. In other words, if your kids can tolerate only four hours of driving, the string will equal four hours’ distance according to the scale of the map that you are using. Your destination is somewhere in that circle. Your older children can do the string test for you, and then look inside the circle for the little red tent or green tree that symbolizes overnight camping on the map.
You may be surprised to see how many opportunities for camping lie very close to your own home. I did a little test. I figured that a fussy child, or his parents, might not put up with more than one hour, or 50 miles, in a car. I drew a circle with a 50-mile radius from my home to see how many camping choices I have. Lots. Of course, lucky me, here in Seattle I can select from among saltwater beaches, freshwater lakes, lowland forests, or parks in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. I have a choice of county parks, state parks, or national forests. Three national parks are just a little more than one hour away. And my map doesn’t show private campgrounds, but in the yellow pages of my telephone book, I counted five entries for “Campgrounds” and 20 for “Recreational Vehicle Parks,” all within 50 miles of my home.
In the April 2004 issue of Parent Map, a monthly newsmagazine for Seattle-area parents, Hilary Benson describes her family’s first camping trip with sons ages 2 and 4. It was spent at a city-owned park in Seattle, only 10 minutes from home. They arrived at Camp Long in late afternoon, cooked and ate dinner outdoors, spent the night in sleeping bags in a cabin, breakfasted hastily the next morning, and left for home at 8:30 a.m. Fourteen hours altogether. A very good first campout.
Even if you have a whole week of vacation and not just a short weekend, for your first campout with small children you are better off planning a trip of only one or two nights until you get the hang of camping. A week may be too long for a first camping trip in a tent. Although a week in a motorhome or camper could be made bearable even if it rained every day, it wouldn’t be fun. If you have a whole week for vacation, take your two-day trip in the middle of the week when parks and facilities are less crowded, and do other things before and after.
Happy campers are those who follow the two rules for first-timers.
Don’t go too far from a town for your first effort, in case you forget something important. “Be close to a town that has food,” Julia, 12, advised. She may be like my grandchildren, who as young teenagers preferred fast food in town to camp cooking. Eight-year-old Eliot’s grandfather would agree on staying close to town; when we met the two of them in a US Forest Service camp outside of Seattle, he had forgotten one bag of their provisions and they had to drive back to go shopping.
My friend Barb told me about her family’s first camping trip, a backpack of one week when her children were 5, 6, and 7. The hiking turned out to be much too arduous for the kids, they did not have enough waterproof clothing, and the tarp they slept under leaked water through the sides. They had to dry their socks over an open fire and ration their food because they hadn’t packed enough. Nevertheless, they got through the week because, she said, her husband was so good and so patient with the children. And they weren’t turned off from camping, but after that first trip they bought a real tent and revised their expectations of what their kids could do.
Public Camping Choices
Eliot, 8, and his grandfather, and Barb and her family, were camping in very primitive situations. In Eliot’s Forest Service campground, the road was paved, but the pullouts for cars were gravel. The camping sites were spacious. There was one central pump for getting water, and there were outhouses scattered through the grounds. Barb’s campsites were even more primitive; the toilets were boxes hidden discreetly in the brush, and water had to be pumped from a stream.
Many campgrounds in national and state parks are just like the one where Eliot was camping. Other more developed parks have paved roads and paved pull-outs for parking cars or RVs. They sometimes, but not always, have bathrooms with flush toilets and coin-operated showers. The RV sites have connections to electricity and water, and some have sewer connections also. Many parks that don’t have sewer connections have a dumping station near the exit from the park. Some have pull-through sites so drivers won’t have to back their motorhomes or trailers out of their spaces. Some restrict the size of the RV to no longer than 25 feet. Those campgrounds that are run by governmental agencies—national, state, and county—usually are located close to some kind of natural attraction, like a lake, a river, or an area with lots of hiking.
Quick Quiz
Who Runs the Campgrounds?
Q: Which government agencies in your neighborhood might administer campgrounds?
A: National Park Service, US Forest Service, Bureau of Land Management, the state Park Service, the county Parks Department, or the city Parks Department.
Some people are surprised to find that even publicly owned campgrounds charge a daily fee. At Mt. Rainier National Park, which has five campgrounds, daily fees run from $8 to $15, depending on the park. Since they have no RV hook-ups, the cost is the same for tent or RV campers. The charge at Oregon State Parks runs from $13 to $18 per day for tent campsites during the high, summer season, and from $17 to $23 per day for full hook-ups. In addition, all campers in Oregon who make advance reservations pay a $6 nonrefundable reservation fee. At the Forest Service’s primitive campgrounds (those with wooden outhouses and a central water tap) on I-90, an hour’s drive from my house, the fee per day is $16 per campsite, but at remote campgrounds, miles of dirt roads away from highways, camping is free.
These fees are in addition to the fee that you pay when you enter the park, which may vary from park to park. If you take a grandparent with you when you camp at a national park or forest, you won’t have to pay an entry fee if Grandma or Grandpa has a Golden Age Passport. This lifetime permit for anyone 62 or older gets the whole carload into the park free. You can buy the passport at ranger stations or some federal office buildings.
When you’re looking for a park, keep in mind some of the code words associated with campsites. “Primitive” or “undeveloped” sites have just a picnic table and a space for a tent; primitive parks have vault outhouses and no showers. They may have a centrally located water tap, or your water may come from a nearby stream. Parks that have “developed” sites have spaces with RV hook-ups that could be “full hook-ups,” with water, electricity, and sewer, or “partial hookups,” with just water and electricity. Many public parks have some combination of developed and undeveloped campsites. Some private RV parks have cable, phone, internet access, and cable TV in addition to the usual hook-up. Ask about charges. Is water and electricity included in the overnight fee, or is there a separate meter for each of those? (For information about locating public campgrounds, see the section on Reservations.)
Private Camping Choices
Private campgrounds have many more amenities than public campgrounds. Their lawns are manicured, and they have flush toilets, showers and laundry facilities. In a KOA campground women’s restroom, I saw a special tub for bathing babies. Private campgrounds usually include special recreational facilities, like a swimming pool or tennis courts, but there are not always natural attractions nearby.
Although they may have a few tent sites, more private campgrounds are set up for RVs. The better parks advertise pull-throughs. Other refinements may include cable TV and phone lines. One park described itself as “modem friendly.” Some RV parks provide more electricity (more amps) than public campgrounds.
CHECKLIST
Questions to Ask
About RV Parks
What is the fee per night, and what does it include?
Is there a restriction on the length of the RV?
Does it have pull-throughs?
How many amps does it provide for each space?
Is there a laundry room and showers?
Does it have telephone lines and cable TV?
Is it modem-friendly?
Is there a swimming pool?
If I can generalize from the descriptions I have collected, the private campgrounds are more luxurious than public parks, and they seem to provide more social activities, like swimming pools, playgrounds, or a meeting hall with evening movies and parties. The public parks seem less manicured, more natural, creating a greater sense of roughing it, being part of an unspoiled countryside. In public parks, you swim in a lake and attend a ranger’s campfire talk in the evening.
In either kind of park, the campsites may be spacious, with hedges of greenery between one campsite and its next door neighbor, or they may be tiny with no separation between them at all.
Private campgrounds, as you might expect, are a little more expensive than public campgrounds. However, fees vary, with each owner setting his own. I checked the rates at some KOA campgrounds. On the coast of Washington, at Ilwaco, the daily fee ranges from $30 to $40 for an RV, and $26 to $36 for a tent. At a beach in California, the range is $37 to $57 for an RV, and $27 to $38 for a tent. Traveling inland, in Spokane, Washington, the fees range from $29 to $33 for an RV, and $24 to $27 for a tent, while in Needles, California, the rates are $22 to $32 for an RV and $19 to 20 for a tent. All these fees are for two people, and the rate charts say extra fees may apply for more people.
Yogi Bear’s Jellystone Parks, another association of private camps, charges $20 to $40 per day for four people, with $5 per day per extra person over the age of 3.
Many campgrounds are close to natural attractions.
Western Horizons Resorts, a membership organization, offers three or four nights complimentary camping to potential new members; all they ask is that you sit through a 90-minute promotional presentation. And if the campground isn’t full, the manager may allow you to stay on at the regular rate. They have 22 resorts in 13 states.
Three Ways to Find a Private Campground
1. Contact a private campground chain such as KOA Kampgrounds (406-248-7444 or www.koa.com), or an association such as Jellystone Parks (800-558-2954 or www.campjellystone.com) or Western Horizon Resorts (866-453-9305 or www.whresorts.com).
2. Look in publications produced by Woodall’s Publishing Corp.: 805-667-4100, 800-323-9076, or www.woodalls.com.
3. Check out RV shows and RV and camping magazines.
Finding Private Campgrounds
While state publications list some private campgrounds, you can also find campgrounds by looking through the directories of those private campground organizations in this country and Canada that don’t require a membership. (Keep in mind, however, that campers who buy a special card may receive a discount.) Kampgrounds of America, or KOA, with 475 locations, is the largest of these organizations. You can reach KOA by phone at 406-248-7444, or online at www.koa.com. Western Horizon Resorts (866-453-9305 or www.whresorts.com), has 22 camps located in seven western states, two southern states, two midwest states, and two east coast states. Yogi Bear’s Jellystone Camps can be reached at www.campjellystone.com or 800-558-2954. I love their website, which includes a special section called “Just for Kids.” Most of their camps are in the eastern and southern states, with only a few as far west as Colorado and Montana. While all these camps seem to be set up for RVers, they also have tent sites and many have cabins to rent as well.
Some privately owned campgrounds that are part of a membership network are also willing to accept nonmembers. Woodall’s Publishing Corp. produces great directories for finding these campgrounds in the US and Canada. Contact Woodall’s at 805-667-4100 or 800-323-9076, or visit www.woodalls.com. If you’re looking for a camping experience with a minimum of preparation, the first part of one Woodall’s catalogue, appropriately named Go&Rent…Rent&Go, lists private campgrounds that have at least three rental units on site, ready for you to move into (Go&Rent); these units could be RVs, trailers, tents, tepees, or cabins. The second part of that catalog is a directory of RV rental agencies (Rent&Go).
Magazines devoted to RVing and camping are also good resources for finding RV parks and campgrounds. RVLife, which covers RV camping in the Northwest, lists a number of campgrounds in its “Yellow Pages,” and also has advertisements for campgrounds in the Northwest and beyond. RVLife is given away free at shows, but otherwise you have to buy single issues or subscribe. When you are attending RV shows, look for the free advertisements that might tell you where to go camping. National magazines on RVing and camping, such as TrailerLife, Motorhome, and CampingLife, will also help you find a private campground. (See Resources.)
Camping Farther Afield
When you’re ready for a longer trip, use the same string technique for measuring the distance your family will travel in one day. If you’re going to spend all your time in one place, your planning is the same. But if you propose to camp at more than one place, you have to build into your travel hours the time it takes to set up and break down your camp each day.
Another friend, Maggie, and her family camp for a week or more at a time. They move around, but they try to camp at no more than three different sites. If you have a camper or a motorhome, it’s easier to move. Maggie’s family camps in a tent, and she says it’s a lot of trouble to put the tent up, take it down the next morning, and set it up again in a different place in the evening. Their camping trips tend to be triangular, so that they have a change of scenery, with at least two nights at each site. They may leave town driving in one direction, toward the coast, then veer away inland on their next leg, toward the mountains, and return on a different highway than the one they left on. You can do that in Washington State.
Make an Itinerary
When your plans involve moving from one park to another, it helps to make an itinerary, just like travel agents do for an extended tour. Write down where you will be on Day One, where you will spend the night, where you will go the next day, Day Two, where you will spend the night then, and so on.
Once your basic plan is determined, you can flesh it out with dates, meals and menus, and the number of hours it will take to drive to each destination. Putting in the meals along the way (B for breakfast, L for Lunch, and D for dinner) will help you plan the numbers of meals you will need to pack. Then you can add a projected departure time for each day.
Planning future trips? Create a camping resource library.
Whether you’re camping in a tent or in an RV, be sure to allow time for breaking camp on each departure day and for a break in the middle of a long driving day. Once you’ve figured out your itinerary, you can make reservations.
IMAGINARY CAMPING
One Week in the Pacific Northwest
Follow me on an imaginary weeklong camping trip. Saturday through the following Sunday, I’m going to leave Seattle and visit three different parks, camping in Olympic National Park in Washington, and then going on to Jesse M. Honeyman and Fort Stevens State Parks in Oregon. My itinerary would look something like this:
Day One: Drive from Seattle to Olympic National Park
Leave 8 a.m., breakfast at home; lunch en route; dinner in camp.
Stop in Port Angeles for lunch and a break.
Overnight in Olympic National Park.
Day Two: Olympic National Park
Breakfast, lunch, dinner in camp; overnight in park.
Day Three: Drive to Oregon Coast
Leave ONP 10 a.m.; arrive Honeyman State Park 5 p.m.
Breakfast in ONP; lunch en route; dinner in Honeyman State Park.
Stop in Seaside, Oregon, for lunch and a break.
Overnight in Honeyman State Park.
Keep your itinerary in hand when you are planning meals for the trip. Plan to use fresh foods early and turn to dried and canned foods later in the trip. Pack later meals at the bottom of your food containers and early ones on top. Or, if you plan to shop for fresh foods along the way, build those stops into your itinerary. (Read the sections What Do We Need?, and How Do We Cook in Camp?.)
