Solo Camping
Letter #85: My first camping trip in nearly 18 years, and *surprise surprise*, I decide to do it alone. 🏕️
11/29/24
In late August, 2024, my parents had planned to go away for the week, so I planned to stick around their house to watch the dog and soak in some much needed alone time. When I’m back in Mequon I have a hard time finding balance with my social time. I find I’m constantly with people, whether it’s coworkers at my office (whom I adore), or at home with my parents (who I’m incredibly grateful to have this past year with, making up for lost time after living away from them for the past 20 years), or spending my evenings and weekends with the Kadlacs down the street (yucking it up with my best friend and her little family, also making up for lost time as we’d spent the last 13 years living apart).
All that to say, my schedule was beginning to feel like a rat race again—early wake up for the gym, commute to the office, dinner with friends or my parents, early bed time, and repeat. I definitely was feeling a heart full of love in bonding with these people that mean so much to me, especially the daily affection that I don’t get when I’m traveling alone, but many of my solo routines had gone out the window and I was feeling out of balance. I wasn’t journaling regularly, and I struggle to find time to sort out my dreams for the future, making them into a realistic plan. And I most certainly struggle to find time to spend in nature.
When my parents had to cancel their week away, I decided to book a mini getaway of my own. I knew I had already had Mexico coming up in the end of October, but wanted a quick little fix to satisfy the stircrazy sensation whirling inside me. I would be heading to Minnesota for a week in September to see my older brother and his family, and then spending the weekend with Allison and Leslie who were both now settled down there, so I decided to book something for a few days at the tail end of that trip. After deciding I didn’t want to blow money on an AirBnB in Wisconsin when I was about to traveling for the next 2+ months coming up, I decided to look into camping.
Admittedly, I hadn’t gone “real camping’ since I went on a trip with a college boyfriend back when I was 21 or so. I wasn’t sure if I’d like going camping as an adult, or how successful I’d be at doing this alone. I was used to sleeping in a warm bed, with a bathroom nearby, a roof over my head, no animals, no bugs. But now that I owned my first car again after being carless for the past 13 years or so of living in NYC and traveling, I was excited at the prospect of becoming the type of person that “drives out west and camps in the state parks”. I figured I might as well start with my own home state parks and see if I have what it takes to become that person.
I texted my coworker, Jen, for recommendations first. No one camps more than she and her husband do, and she suggested I book Brunet Island State Park—she even helped me select the ideal site right along the Chippewa River.
I had to borrow all of the Kadlacs’ equipment, and they blessed me with the use of their nearly brand new, spacious REI tent. They gave me plenty of advice on what I may need for two nights of camping—I decided not to bring a camping stove, instead to just roast some hot dogs over the campfire and wing the rest. But I had the proper set of equipment for two nights, a car to get me there, plenty of resourcefulness from my time of solo travel, and I felt plenty certain I’d love my solitude in nature.
I left Leslie and Allison in Minnesota around 2:30pm that Sunday in late September, wanting to reach the campsite in Wisconsin before the sun went down. The drive was about 2 hours, and I’d be setting up a tent I’d never set up before, by myself.
I realized halfway through the drive that I’d left my heavy jacket at the AirBnB Allison and I had stayed at that weekend in St. Paul, which meant all I had to sleep in was long underwear and a sweatshirt. It was already cold that far north in the evenings—down to the low 40s—but I had borrowed a heavy wool blanket from my brother, had a cotton Mexican blanket from my mom, and a sleeping bag from Alie. If I had slept in a freezing lodge (temperatures down in the single digits) in the Himalayas, surely I could withstand this. And if not? Then I’d be bee-lining it for the nearest Farm & Fleet the next day. I wanted to see if I could make it without buying any unnecessary clothing.
When I pulled up to the state park entrance, around 5pm that Sunday, a sign read that the office was closed. I parked anyway, and found a man around back—the campground host—from whom I bought a couple bundles of firewood, subsequently letting him know this was my first time camping in 18 years and that I was camping alone, so if he could keep an out for me, I’d appreciate it. He was kind and reassuring, and I felt confident about everything I’d packed with me.
He provided directions to my campsite, so I set off towards the north island, finding my site easily. When I opened the driver’s door, I was overwhelmed by how beautiful the spot was.
The site was shaded by towering pine trees, their long, soft needles creating a bed over the packed dirt ground where I’d be setting up my tent. There was a small clearing overlooking the Chippewa River, with steps leading down into the water, a place where I could set up my chair or go in for a swim. The light shone perfectly through the trees, just in time for golden hour. And the space was perfectly surrounded by trees, granting me enough privacy from other guests, but enough awareness of others that I was not completely isolated.
The campground was nearly silent. I noticed just a few other campsites occupied near mine, mostly by couples keeping their hushed voices between themselves.
I decided to set up my tent a safe distance away from the fire pit, nestled under the pine trees. I figured it’d give me a little extra cover if it did end up raining at all (the weather report was looking a little dicey over the next two days). I began setting up the tent, doing my best to follow the intuitive instructions attached to the bag the tent came packed in. I had called Nate and Alie on my way to the campgrounds, asking Nate for any last tips for getting set up. Both of them reassured me I’d be fine, even though I’d never set up a tent before, never built a fire before. 🤷🏻♀️
The tent went up easily, and just as it was getting too dark to see, I decided to throw on the rain cover. While there was no forecast of rain that evening, and I wanted to watch the stars, I figured I may be faced with dew in the morning, and the extra cover would help keep moisture out and warmth in. Staying warm was more important than star-gazing, and that was was something I could do out on my zero gravity chair before heading to bed. Yes! The best purchase I made before going camping was two zero gravity chairs from Facebook Marketplace. I gave one to my mom, kept one for me, and it was the PERFECT piece of furniture for dining, lounging, reading, napping, any all-purpose camping you could imagine (and it came with a little floating table/cup holder that clips on for your drink).
After the tent was set up, I grabbed my dinner supplies from the car. It’s funny—I wasn’t sure what to put all my random gear in while I was packing—cooking utensils, fire building items like kindling, a lighter, matches, bug spray, paper towels, spears for the hot dogs, etc. A cardboard box? A laundry basket? A tupperware bin? The weekend I was putting the tent, chair, sleeping bag in the car, I had folded up the trunk organizer my dad had given me that he had received as a duplicate for Christmas. I laughed, as I had nothing to store in this trunk organizer. As a self-proclaimed minimalist, I wanted to keep next to nothing in my car (I’ll write a story later about how I’m learning from Allison that if I want to head west I need to get serious about a winter survival kit). So I had stored the trunk organizer in my closet, giving myself more room in the car for my camping gear. It was then I realized that was the PERFECT container for all these random items. So I humbly went back upstairs to reassemble it and organize my goods.
As I grabbed the organizer again out of my trunk after setting up the tent, preparing to make my dinner of one Benji’s Delicatessen hot dog and sesame seed bun, I was extremely grateful to have this heavy duty, easy to carry organizer with me.
I started a fire with ease, roasted the ‘dog, poured a little glass of wine, and enjoyed the sunset. The peace and quiet was heavenly.
I only put a couple extra logs on the fire to keep it going, watching as the sun went down quickly over the river, disappearing behind the trees. It wasn’t long before the stars began peeking out through the gap between the trees hovering above me. I stretched out on the chair as far back as I could, snuggled up under my mom’s blanket, and enjoyed some star-gazing that I’d never take the time to do in my everyday life.
Around 7:30pm I began packing up dinner area, being sure to put any trash and food back into the car. I brushed my teeth using my water bottle, then walked the short distance over to the composting bathrooms to, well, use them, and refill my water bottles again before retiring to the tent to read.
I changed into my long underwear, socks, wool slippers I’d bought in a bout of fear of the oncoming cold in the Himalayas, and snuggled into Alie’s sleeping bag, atop her narrow sleeping pad. Her gear was lightweight, built not for car camping but for carrying on her back as she and Nate had done some epic hike-in camping in Hawaii in their early years of dating. So the pad wasn’t terribly comfy for sleeping, and I contemplated that, if I did love camping and want to continue this in the future, perhaps I invest in a cushy blow-up pad (where weight and bulk made no difference if you were car camping).
The traffic across the river along the highway was quite loud, so although I was trying to be as simple about camping as I could, I still give in to my portable sound machine and ear plugs, hoping for restful sleep. It worked decently well. I still woke up around 2am for a couple of hours, unable to sleep for no apparent reason but for discomfort and strange surroundings, so I read my kindle until I could fall back asleep. Miraculously, I slept until about 7:30am.
I wasn’t scared at all in the night. I wasn’t scared at all being alone in a tent, unable to lock the doors (although I did have pepper spray with me). I could tell that my time traveling solo to so many different countries had prepped me for this. I was amped that I had found a new hobby, something else that I was happy to do solo.
I opened the zippered flap to my tent and enjoyed the morning view overlooking the river while I contemplated how to spend my day of no work, no people. After lounging in my warm bed for a half hour or so, I decided to grab an apple, some water, put on my hiking boots, and go for a walk through the woods.
I had reached a crossroads in my life again—I loved my role at the law firm but I needed my salary to be higher if I wanted to settle down in the US. Or did I want to be more of a freelancer, chasing other clients and be a remote worker indefinitely? I wanted to take some of this alone time to contemplate and then write out different options for my future.
My walk through the woods was soothing and grounding. When I got back to the campsite, I decided to head into town to look for a grocery store with some ready made food that would last me until the next day—I ended up with some deli mashed potatoes with gravy and macaroni and cheese (literally two of my favorite foods), a container of strawberry cream cheese, a package of blueberry bagels, and another apple. It was more than enough variety for three more meals.
When I arrived back at the site, I ate a little lunch, put on my swimsuit, and waded into the river a ways. I then set up my chair just along the riverbed, read my kindle, and napped into the afternoon. I awoke to a call from my parents checking in on me, and then took another hour to journal out some ideas about my future, both financially and career-wise. I wasn’t sure I had a clear path yet, but it helped to put some things down on paper.
I didn’t want my time in nature to feel like it was focused only on work and building my future, so I went back to lounging and watching the river. I lit a bundle of sage, put on some Neil Young, poured a half glass of wine, and reclined into my chair. It felt like one of the longest, most peaceful days I’d had in a long time.
My night went pretty much the same, and I awoke the next morning around 7am. Unfortunately, a rowdy family had moved in across the way, no quiet voices to be found. I was grateful to be leaving that day, as I wasn’t sure I had enough tolerance for their lack of awareness. The campground had been so peaceful, with like-minded, hushed voice folks respecting each others’ solitude. The family that moved in brought with them every gear and gadget you could think of, setting up a compound, and with it screaming children and 3 dogs chained up and barking constantly. It did not match the vibe.
I went for another walk through the woods around 8am, and by 11am, was slowly finishing packing up my site while the majority of their family was elsewhere in the park and so there was relative quiet, save for the barking dogs.
The neighbor to my left stopped to say hello as I filled up my water bottles for the last time before getting into my car. We shared a nice chat about how much we loved this state park, save for what he called “the idiots who came up from Iowa”. He said it was the best to camp during the week when it was quieter, but that it was rare to encounter a family so loud and unaware as this.
He said he had made it his mission since retiring to tour the entire 50 state parks of Wisconsin. He takes his e-bike and goes around each park, taking note of the ones he’d want to go back to to camp at. So he gave me tips on his favorite parks he had camped at, and we even discussed where he felt safest about having his daughters solo camp. It was helping me plan my next summer of solo camping, and in return he ventured over to my campsite to see where he might better drop in his canoe, as the entry into the river at his site was too steep.
I wished him luck with the rowdy Iowan family, left my last two pieces of firewood for the next camper (a courtesy tip he taught me about), and packed up the last of my gear into the car. I smelled like a campfire, my skin and hair was oily under my winter hat, and I had that natural, woodsy feeling I love after spending several days outside. I set out on my 4.5 hour drive home, setting my sights on nearest Culver’s for my lunch time stop. 🤤 I would DEFINITELY be booking this campsite again next year. ❤️ Solo camping a 10/10 SUCCESS.
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Nice !!! I took our van without my husband for the first time this summer. It scary but I did it! Next up solo camping !!! 🏕️
A lot of people have asked me if I’d try van life…and I don’t know?! What is your experience? How long did you go solo in the van this summer? I typically like a warm bed and roof over my bed but maybe this would be a liberating new way to travel?