What do you do when you're camping?

Usually, I try to go to campgrounds near places — the beach, a national park, Sedona. I can go out during the day and explore before coming back to camp.

But I'm eyeing the Cascade Mountains for this fall — going out and driving until I find a campground that looks like a winner, and staying there for the weekend.

The question is: What to do?

When you're out with a friend / partner camping, what do you do if you decide not to leave the campground?

And if you go camping alone, what are the keys for you to make it enjoyable?

I'm eager to hear your suggestions for activities (or non-activities like sleep!) or ideas on campgrounds I might go to in the Cascades.

Beverly Beach State Park, Oregon

Leandra tending to breakfast at the spacious site.

I'm pretty sure winter is over here.

It was much, much longer than I thought, and only drew out longer after 3 weeks of nice weather in February. I let my guard down, and March, April and early May were painfully cold, wet and dreary.

So here we are in May, there were more sunny days than cloudy days at the start of the month and I went out on a limb and made reservations for Beverly Beach, a campground in a canyon just north of Newport, Oregon. I knew weather would be a crapshoot, but we just needed to get out of the city after a long winter of being stuck inside.

As the weekend approached, the forecast for Friday in Portland called for the mid-90s, and when that happens, the next few days on the coast are usually cold and miserable. Sure enough, the weekend forecast called for fog and 60 at the beach.

Luckily, it was not to be. The weather stated warm all night Friday, and Saturday was sunny and warm all the way through. On Sunday, the fog stuck to the shore — it was sunny at the campsite but about a half-mile west, we couldn't even see the waves from U.S. 101.

The campground had just the right amount of amenities, in contrast to Fort Stevens 120 miles up the coast. Firewood was for sale for $4 a bundle, only certain sites had electricity (and cable), the showers weren't too nice (although they were clean and locked) and there was no espresso concessionaire. The campground also had yurts for rent. It was even located along Lincoln County Transit's bus line.

The murky swamp areas separate campsites, but also keep campers from walking directly to restrooms.

The beach access was easily Beverly Beach's biggest plus. In the E-loop, a fair way up Spencer Creek Canyon, but we were only a half-mile from one of the nicest, longest and sandiest beaches on the Oregon Coast. Construction of a new bridge for U.S. 101 wasn't a bother.

But it had its downsides, too. It's only 60 miles from Corvallis and some frat-type folks made for a noisy Friday night (and left quite a mess for the rangers to clean up Saturday morning). The creek's swampy tributaries meandered around the sites, meaning there was no shortcutting through the woods to restrooms.

The restrooms had nice foamy soap and the restrooms near the showers had hot water, but the standalone restrooms (no showers) had no lights and no hot water (and on Friday night, both toilets were clogged with beer cans — thanks Phi Delta Dipshit!)

Yurts at Beverly Beach include beds for 4, furniture, heat and electricity.

Both nights, we were startled by the sound of raccoons humping in the trees (the first night, we thought the frat boys wer being mean to the raccoons).

And the campfire pits were too small, with fixed cooking grates that made it tough to get a good cooking fire going.

Oregon State Parks' reservation system is easy to use.

I will be back to Beverly Beach, and I won't prepare any differently. It was a winner all around, even with its inconveniences. Just cross your fingers on the weather.

Thursday morning update: My legs have been covered with bug bites for the last three days. Bring insect repellant — I believe it was the Oregon Coast's little gnats that got me. And got me again. And again.

Main Campground
Beverly Beach State Park, Oregon

Site: 3.5/5
Shade: 4/5
Tranquility: 4.5/5
Activities: 5/5
Restrooms: 4/5

Fort Stevens State Park, Oregon

I associate many sounds with camping. The crackle of a campfire, the chirping of birds, even the low rumble of cars on a nearby highway.

Now that I've moved to the Pacific Northwest, I guess I'm going to have to get used to a new sound: ShhhhhhhhhhttherrrrrrrruuuuuuuuCK!

That's the best I can do in attempting to turn to text the sound of an espresso machine, this one in the heart of the campground at Fort Stevens State Park, on the Oregon Coast near Astoria. Yep, a coffee vendor in the middle of a campground — and it had a line of customers waiting for coffee, too. Now, I suppose a fresh latte is much better than percolated coffee (actually, I don't suppose. I've done both, and a latte *is* better.)

But doesn't this defeat the purpose?

That was the dichotomy of camping at Fort Stevens. On the one hand, the campground itself was incredible. The sites were set amongst the trees, providing excellent shade; there were enough shrubs on the ground to keep you fairly separate from your neighbors; spots were fairly level and spread out; and its location, a mile from the beach, near a fishing lake and biking trails, couldn't be beat.

And (but?) it also offered quite a few of the comforts of home — some of which may be too much for the camping experience. It had the prerequisite Oregon State Park yurts, which don't offend me too much. And it had a nice, clean, warm shower with individual stalls and locks providing utmost privacy. And it had electricity. And roving volunteers selling firewood at market rate. And, dare I say it again, an espresso vendor. How much is too much? At what point do we go to get away from it all?

Maybe I'm missing the point. With all of the campgrounds out here, there are plenty folks can go to for a more traditional camping experience. I just happened, on my first time out, to go to the Ritz-Carlton of camping (and at Ritz-like prices, $25 a night including online reservation fees, a must even though the park has more than 400 camping spots).

But an espresso machine!?!?

A few bits of advice from my experience:

- Don't leave food out and secure your coolers. On our first night, something (or someone?) got into one of our coolers, the one without any latching mechanism. It took out one of Leandra's vegetarian bratwursts and ate half of it, leaving it on the table when it got sick of it or I scared it by waking up and going outside. I assume it was a raccoon because of a lack of footprints, but you'd never want to take a risk and find out it was something more sinister and carnivorous.

- Don't plan on walking to the beach or the lake, especially from the north loops. It's more than a mile's walk from those sites to the beach, and that's no fun in flip flops. Bring a bicycle and use the paved trails.

- This park is very recycling friendly. Take advantage of that and come prepared to pre-sort.

- Check the calendar of events when you arrive. My second night at the campground, a tremendous boom shook the area. I thought someone's propane tank had exploded. It was a cannon demonstration at a ranger talk at the amphitheater.

- This park gets dark quickly, with all its tall trees. Bring a good light if you're setting up a tent.

- There is a ton to do in the area. Lewis and Clark National Historic Park is about 10 miles away, the old Fort Stevens ruins are less than 5 miles from the campground, and downtown Astoria is quickly adapting to the tourist market with a trolley, shops, restaurants and, of course, sea lions. Seaside, with its Boardwalk-like atmosphere, is about 10 miles south of the campground.

- This may not be a great hub for a more regional roadtrip adventure. We left our campsite at 9 a.m. on Sunday, visited Olympic National Park and drove the peninsula, only to get back to Portland just before 10 p.m. It's a long haul from here to Aberdeen (and points beyond).

Main Campground
Fort Stevens State Park, Oregon

Site: 4.5/5
Shade: 5/5
Tranquility: 4/5
Activities: 5/5
Restrooms: 5/5

Our New Home

Greetings from Portland!

Smorespot has changed scenery, after getting tired of having to drive four hours in any given direction from Las Vegas to find a decent place to camp. The people are nicer, the weather (so far) is nicer (although it's Sept. 15, I wore a jacket last night and the leaves are starting to change????) and there are dozens, probably hundreds, of campgrounds within 100 miles of my apartment (I could count on my fingers the number of campgrounds within 100 miles of my place in Vegas).

So we begin a new journey of smoke and sleeping bags, one full of trees, ocean breezes, bitterly cold high desert nights and fishing. If you have any suggestions on where we should go, be sure to drop a line!

Whitney Pockets, Nevada

For the record, I didn't actually camp at Whitney Pockets – I just made a daytrip.

This area, about 20 miles south of Mesquite on Gold Butte Road, gave new definition to the term barren. I didn't see one other car on my drive down the beaten but paved road down. On Memorial Day weekend. Go figure.

The area featured some rock formations and beautiful views of the Nevada desert. It also had some historical sites and petroglyphs. About 15 miles south of Whitney Pockets was Gold Butte, an old ghost town now isolated from the world by the Overton Arm of Lake Mead.

The area did have primitive camping – and by primitive, I mean pull up in the desert and park. No toilets, no signs, no fee... and nobody else to bother you (or rescue you). One upshot - I fairly consistently had Cingular service on my BlackBerry.

A nice place to go with a group of friends, methinks, but not with just one or two people.

Whitney Pockets
BLM Las Vegas District

Site: 3/5
Shade: 1/5
Tranquility: 5/5
Activities: 3/5
Restrooms: 1/5

Potwisha, California

What a whim!

On a late Saturday morning in April, with nothing in particular in mind to do for the weekend, Leandra and I decided to go camping.

My initial inclination was a trip to Beaver Dam State Park, in rural Lincoln County, Nevada, but as I went to the store to get some supplies, I thought "Why not go bigger than that."

"Way bigger."

"Sequoia bigger."

So we spent an hour getting ready and hit the road at about 2 p.m., driving a little more than six hours from Las Vegas to the park in the southern Sierras, including five total stops for gas and snacks. We picked up the handy national park guide in the gateway community of Three Rivers – I don't know whose idea those green booklets were, but I love them. Leandra looked through it and singled out a few possible campgrounds... but darkness approached quickly and the winding southern entry into the park was not a fun ride in the twilight, with deer about. We saw Potwisha near the park's entrance and stopped in right away. The campground, by my estimate, was about 60 percent full. The weather was comfortable, the sites looked easy to get into and out of, and Site 3 was just begging for us to park at it.

Within two minutes of parking, a ranger arrived to warn us of BEARS.

Not just any bears. Big, brown bears that wanted nothing more than to rip the windows off of our truck and eat every last morsel we had available.

This was a cause for concern, because anyone who's been in my truck knows what my truck looks – and smells – like. It's got all manner of old crumbs of foodlets in it.

So on top of getting camp ready during a late arrival, and putting my turkey burgers on the grill because I was hungry, we had to clean out the cab of my truck – inside and out.

Leandra got a great head-start on the task, getting together two or three bags of trash and moving the large stuff over to the bear locker, which I quickly prepared. I finished it up, basically leaving my tire chains, note pads and electronic equipment in the cab and putting everything – EVERYTHING, including blankets, backpacks, the Big Black Box O Camping Supplies, the truck's center console (which I bought at Pep Boys) and the ice chest – into the bear locker, which was *extremely* clean.

This, along with setting up the tent, took more than two hours to complete. The upshot is my truck is clean.

The night was very, very pleasant. The campers at the spot next to ours had a dog – which made me feel more comfortable, because I figured any arriving BEARS would cause Rover to start barking (or yelping). The temperature was perfect. I did sit down in the restroom and notice a spider crawling in my jeans, but I've seen much worse toilets.

The biggest problem I had with the campground was that A) the sites were not very level and I was rolling downhill into Leandra all night, and B) they were a smidge close together. I woke up very early Sunday morning, and probably woke up the people in the spot next to me as I prepared breakfast. This was not inherently my problem, but I still felt guilty.

Nonetheless, I don't know that I've ever been to a better public campground. It was well shaded, it was far enough off the road that traffic was unnoticable, and the roar of the Marble Fork of the Kahweah River was like a real-life Night Moods CD or alarm clock. The presence of the Bear Enforcement Ranger made me feel comfortable not just about bear security, but about safety in general.

Overall, a winner.

Potwisha Campground
Sequoia National Park

Site: 4.5/5
Shade: 5/5
Tranquility: 4/5
Activities: 3/5
Restrooms: 4/5

Pineflat, Arizona

Pineflat Campground
Coconino National Forest
(Synopsis at bottom)

I stumbled upon Pineflat last year because, well, it was near Sedona and had reservations. Leandra and I returned last weekend for an early spring retreat. It was cold, and we wound up leaving early... but the scene is just so beautiful!

That's the dichotomy of Pineflat. Its location in Oak Creek Canyon, halfway between Flagstaff and Sedona, can't be beaten. It's under a canopy of pine trees, adjacent to the trickling waters of Oak Creek and shaded in the morning and afternoon by the canyon walls.

But its elevation means it has pit toilets that draw bugs in the summer, the greenery means the fire pits must be well protected and encased in concrete - keeping radiant heat at a minimum - and the campground itself is bisected by Arizona State Route 89A, meaning high beams from cars winding through the canyon are flashing through the tent every night. It's also about seven miles from Slide Rock State Park and 13 miles from Sedona, with quite an elevation drop. Breaking camp is all but required unless you're in tip-top shape.

That's why Pineflat isn't ideal for tenters. I could see doing it in an RV, with a hard side to block the light and somewhere respectable to pee. The beautiful scenery makes up for a hell of a lot - enough to keep me coming back - but I'd bet that the sites down the road at Manzanita are a lot nicer.

If I could only get a reservation.


Pineflat (or Pine Flat) Campground
Coconino National Forest

Site: 3/5
Shade: 4/5
Tranquility: 2/5
Activities: 3/5
Restrooms: 2/5