And let’s be honest. The stereotypes about gay men do not exactly scream rugged outdoorsman. We’re not exactly known for sleeping on the ground or building campfires with nothing but a pocket knife and sheer masculinity.

But here’s the thing. Helping someone build their first campsite, especially the guys who actually want to learn how to do it themselves, is one of my favorite parts of this work.

Even after my actual responsibilities at my last campground moved me behind the bar, running operations, managing events, and pretending I knew what I was doing as a “Camp Ranger,” the tradition never really stopped. Every busy Friday someone would forget something essential and the front desk would send them to find me.

My enthusiasm for camping and teaching people how to camp eventually turned into a small hoarding problem. Over a dozen tents. Multiple sleeping pads. Air mattresses. Lanterns. Flashlights. Camp stoves. Coolers. If there’s a piece of camping gear that exists, there’s a decent chance I’ve accidentally acquired three of them.

So it didn’t matter how many people were in line for cocktails. At some point during the night someone new would approach the bar and say, “Hey Ranger Alli… the guy behind the front desk said you might have a [insert essential piece of camping gear] I could borrow?”

I’d chuckle, abandon the bar for a few minutes, and run up to the campground.

And after watching hundreds of campers roll into camp wildly unprepared, I’ve developed a short list of the five things no camper should leave home without. And yes, every single one of these has been forgotten by someone at least once. Sometimes by the same person.

1. A Headlamp (Because the Sun Sets Every Single Night)

You would be amazed how many people arrive at camp with thousands of dollars worth of gear and absolutely no light source.  No flashlight. No lantern. No headlamp. Just vibes and a dying iPhone battery. Then the sun sets and suddenly they’re wandering through the tent field like a confused woodland creature trying to locate the shower house.

Get a headlamp.

Hands-free lighting means you can cook dinner, pitch your tent, dig through your cooler, and walk to the bathhouse without tripping over someone’s guy lines and collapsing their entire campsite. Which, to be clear, has happened. More than once.

But while we’re talking about headlamps, I want to introduce you to a feature experienced campers know and new campers accidentally weaponize: The red light.

Most headlamps have a red-light mode, and there are two very good reasons to use it. First, it preserves your night vision. Your eyes stay adjusted to the dark so you can actually see what you’re doing. Second, and this is the important one, it’s polite.

On the Appalachian Trail, shining your bright white headlamp directly into someone’s face while talking to them at night is considered a cardinal sin. You switch to the red light before interacting with other hikers. It’s a simple little bit of trail etiquette that basically says, “I respect your retinas.”

Use the red light around camp. Your fellow campers will appreciate it. And you’ll avoid temporarily blinding the guy you’re trying to have a pleasant conversation with at 10:30 at night.

2. Wet Wipes (The Most Important Thing You’ll Pack)

Camping is magical. It is also… sticky. Wet wipes solve a shocking number of camping problems. They clean your hands, your face, your cookware, your table, your cooler, your everything.

But we need to talk about something important here. Do not flush them.

I don’t care what the package says. I don’t care if they’re called Dude Wipes, Bro Wipes, Mountain Man Adventure Wipes, or Jesus Approved Biodegradable Glory Towels.

They are not septic safe. They are not sewer safe. They are not campground plumbing safe. Do not flush them in the shower house.  Do not flush them in your camper. Do not flush them anywhere. Throw them in the trash.

Because nothing ruins the vibe of a campground faster than having to explain to a septic company that someone thought the plumbing system could handle a full Pride Parade of wet wipes.

3. A Chair (Because the Ground is Not Furniture)

Every weekend someone sets up a gorgeous campsite. Tent pitched.  Lantern glowing. Cooler full of drinks. And then they realize they have nowhere to sit. Now they’re eating dinner hunched over a cooler like a Victorian orphan.

Bring a chair. And honestly? Bring a comfortable one.

Camping gear has come a long way. Some camp chairs now weigh almost nothing and pack down to the size of a water bottle. Others are basically portable living rooms. Cupholders. Headrests. Reclining backs. Possibly better lumbar support than my actual couch.

Camping should be comfortable. You’re here to relax, not prove a point.

4. A Way to Start a Fire

I cannot explain the number of times someone has walked up to me and said, “Hey, do you have a lighter?”

Sir. You bought firewood. You built a fire pit. You stacked the logs beautifully like a Pinterest survival guide. But the one thing missing from this entire plan was the actual fire. Bring two ways to start a fire. A lighter.  Matches.  A small fire starter.

Something. And let’s be clear here. Fire starter, not fire accelerant.
Not lighter fluid. Not gasoline. Not “this bottle of mystery accelerant I found in the garage.”

Fire starter is designed to light a fire and help your wood catch properly, allowing it to burn evenly and safely. Accelerants are designed to create a moment in which the entire campground collectively yells, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

If I see you drunkenly squirting lighter fluid onto a campfire, I will absolutely confiscate it. Honestly, I might confiscate it if you’re sober too. But let’s be real. By the time most people are building their campfire, sobriety is not exactly the dominant energy.

Build the fire slowly. Use kindling. Use a proper starter. Because once the fire is going and everyone is gathered around it, that’s when camp really comes alive.

5. One Comfort Upgrade

Here’s something I’ve learned after years of watching campers roll in and from spending more nights camping than most. 

Camping doesn’t have to mean suffering.  You can absolutely rough it. Sleep on the ground. Cook beans over a tiny backpacking stove. Pretend you’re starring in your own survival documentary. But modern camping gear is incredible.

Solar lanterns.  Portable power stations.  Self-inflating mattresses that are more comfortable than my first apartment bed. 

Camping can be rustic or it can be glamping. At Oak Hill, it can honestly be either. Pitch a tent under the trees. Set up a luxury campsite with fairy lights and an espresso maker. Or just rent a cabin and skip the whole “sleeping on the ground” phase entirely.

All three versions count.

Final Ranger Advice

After years of helping people set up campsites, I’ve learned something important. Camping isn’t really about the gear. The gear just helps you get through the night. What people are actually looking for when they come to camp is something simpler. Fresh air. A little adventure. A fire at the end of the day. And a group of people you didn’t know a few hours earlier who somehow feel like friends by midnight.

Sure, remembering a headlamp helps. But the real magic of camp happens after the tents are pitched and the fire gets going.

That part? You never forget it.

High Five - this is life,
Ranger Alli