Opinion: Why I Hate Tent Camping—and I’m Never Going Again
As a born-and-raised BC gal, I spent my summers camping with my family. My parents both had summers off work, so I was lucky enough to have them around—and even more blessed that they packed up my sisters and me for camping trips to provincial campgrounds.
Back then, camping meant staying up late around the fire, telling ghost stories and thinking it was hilarious to sleep in a hoodie, socks and a toque just to stay warm. I have fond memories of us setting up camp, cooking dinner over a charcoal BBQ and searching for the perfect stick to roast marshmallows for s’mores. Ever since I was a kid, nature has been my happy place.
But after one too many cold, restless nights on the ground, I’ve decided to call it: I’m officially breaking up with tent camping.
My last—and what will be my final—tent camping trip consisted of four nights in a tent that barely fit my partner and me, let alone our bags that were stuffed at our feet. I kicked them almost every night while tossing and turning on an air mattress better suited for one. Bathroom trips were a short, two-minute walk away, but their saving grace was that at least they were flushable porta potties.
Another pitfall from my final tent camping experience is that we didn’t have anywhere to relax at our camp. We had a tent and that was all, since we didn’t think we would be spending much time there. Without camping chairs or a shelter of any kind, we were forced to leave our camping area and find other places to relax. This was a critical error on our part, since relaxing inside a tent during the day isn’t very relaxing at all.
The last straw was waking up in a damp tent with my sleeping bag clinging to me like a soggy burrito and realizing I paid money for this experience.
This isn’t a rash decision; it’s been years in the making. I’m done with wearing all my clothes to bed just to stay warm. I’m done with awkward, cold bathroom runs in the dark, shivering my way back to a deflating air mattress that leaves me flat on the uneven ground by morning.
I’ve hit the point in my life where I no longer want to “rough it.” What I want now are cozy cabins, crackling fireplaces and hot showers that don’t require loonies for three minutes of (somewhat) hot water.
I don’t want to sleep in a tent anymore. If I’m honest, maybe this was inevitable. I can count the number of times I’ve actually slept in a tent. Most of my childhood camping trips were in RVs of some kind—a tent trailer at first, then a fifth wheel, then eventually a 29-foot trailer we placed on a lot on Salt Spring Island.
Looking back, some of my favourite childhood memories happened in those RVs. Rainy days meant board games at the dinette while my mom cooked breakfast on the propane stove. My sisters and I would press our noses to the fogged-up windows, watching the rain pour down while we were cozy and dry inside. At night, we’d fall asleep to the sound of rain on the roof, knowing the world outside was wet and wild, but we were warm and dry. Maybe that’s why I never fully embraced tent life—to me, it always felt like choosing struggle when comfort was an option.
For me, traditional tent camping has stopped feeling like a rite of passage and started feeling like unnecessary punishment. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to give up campfires or mornings in the woods—far from it. It just means I’m swapping nylon walls for something sturdier.
After a night of shivering, tossing, turning and waking up every hour, I don’t exactly spring out of my sleeping bag ready to hit the trails. Bad sleep isn’t just uncomfortable, it’s draining. Now, I have to drag myself through the day, groggy and sore, drinking instant coffee like it’s medicine. Whereas, in a cabin or yurt, I might actually get a solid eight hours and wake up to birdsong instead of back pain. I’ve decided that glamping isn’t giving up on camping; it’s a natural upgrade. It’s still an adventure!
Our outdoor styles may change as we learn what we like and dislike, but I’ve certainly not lost my love for adventure. I’ll always crave time in nature, chasing sunsets, sitting around campfires and toasting marshmallows under the stars. But I’ve learned that spending time outdoors doesn’t mean sacrificing comfort. You just have to find what works for you—there’s no “wrong” way or one way to get outside. I’ve learned that I’d rather greet the morning warm, well-rested and with a hot cup of coffee than climb out of a damp sleeping bag wondering why I paid for misery.
For those of you who will happily keep tent camping, I’ll be raising my hot chocolate to you… from the warmth of my cabin. For me, sleeping in a bed doesn’t dull the adventure; it makes it sustainable and possible for me to still get outside and enjoy it. At this stage of my life, that feels like the best choice.
The trick to tent camping as one ages is to up grade. Yes, it is possible. Our last tent had a great vestibule for shoes and such. Once we kicked the kids out as they grew we had lots of room for water bottles and next days clothing. The kids foamies went under our Therm o-rests. A set of standard sheets covered these. Sleep IN a sleeping bag, no way! I saved that for Girl Guide camp when I was a leader back in the day. The bag went over top like a quilt. This way we shared body heat. Spouses can supply a lot of warmth. A small stool out side helped us crawl out. Don’t forget to precook and freeze one or two suppers for a more relaxed set up. And yes we cheated. When the rains came we headed for a cheap motel, which got harder to find as more and more travellers hit the road. Well I’ve finally given up as I became a widow in my 70s. Given the opportunity would I camp again again? Maybe but not for days on end and warm dry weather and a nearby shelter. There are many fond memories.
There’s roughing it, and then there’s roughing it in style! I learned very quickly that tiny tents and uninsulated air mattresses were not the way for me. I bought a tent I can stand up in. I equipped myself with a cot, and paired it with an insulated sleeping pad for comfy, cozy nights. We added a tarp over the tent to keep us extra dry, and a screened shelter for dining/playing games/relaxing away from the bugs. It’s not quite glamping, but it’s more than the basics, and I love every minute of it!