The Best Things to Pack on a Camping Trip (That Aren't a Raccoon Repellent)

There are two kinds of campers. The kind who pack a single dignified backpack, and the kind who arrive at the trailhead looking like they're personally responsible for restocking an REI. I have been both. I have opinions.

Here is the truth nobody tells you: 80% of a great camping trip comes down to about ten objects. The other 20% is whether or not you remembered coffee. (You did not remember coffee. You never remember coffee. We'll get to that.)

Start with a headlamp. Not a flashlight — a headlamp. The first time you try to set up a tent at dusk while holding a flashlight in your mouth, you'll understand. Also: extra batteries. Headlamps die at the exact moment a small unidentified animal starts rustling near your cooler.

A real sleeping pad. I know, I know, you 'slept on the ground in college.' You were also 19 and immortal. You are neither of those things now. Pay the $80. Your hips will write you a thank-you note.

A cast-iron pan, a small camp stove, and one (1) spatula. You do not need the seven-piece nesting cookware set. You will use the pan. You will lose three of the seven pieces in the first hour.

Layers, not bulk. A wool base layer, a fleece, and a windbreaker will out-perform that giant parka you've been hauling around since 2013. Cotton is, and I cannot stress this enough, sad.

Water filter or purification tablets, even if the campground has a spigot. Trust me. The spigot will be broken. The spigot is always broken.

Coffee. A small French press, ground beans in a sealed bag, and a kettle. This is non-negotiable. Instant coffee in the woods is a crime against the morning.

Trash bags. Bring three times what you think you need. Pack out everything, including the orange peel you swore would 'just decompose.' It won't. A park ranger told me.

Finally: one (1) absurd luxury item. A little speaker. A hammock. A travel pillow shaped like a croissant. Camping is supposed to be fun. You're allowed to enjoy yourself.