THE ZEN GYPSY GUIDE TO LIFE: camping . virgin

I have a confession . . .

In a former lifetime, when I had an ever-expanding number of wondrous children and their friends constantly about, my idea of camping was basically a suite at the Ritz-Carlton. By myself. Or anywhere that didn't involve cooking and cleaning.

Oh, I had tent camped in the mountains a few times as a twenty-something, even in the winter, but these outings revolved mainly around copious amounts of how shall we say, "landscape enhancers." My memory of these trips, no pun intended, is somewhat hazy, as you might surmise.

In fact, I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit that I have only hypothetically experienced a S'more. Since I'd missed this classic camping experience growing up, best besties Patti Edmon and Annie L'Esperance recently filled me in on how to make them. Graham crackers. Okay! Even I knew that. Melted marshmallow first? Or the Hershey Bar? I was clueless. They laughed their heads off.

"Camping Virgin," they snickered. And we all agreed that good dark chocolate was now de rigueur as Hershey bars were rumored to be processed with heavy metals. (Hope I haven't blown your S'more bubble.)

All the more reason now, I thought, to explore what "dispersed camping" is all about—meaning off-the-grid camping with no water, no electric, no facilities whatsoever camping. Although this was a complete 180 from anything I'd dreamt of before, it now seemed like an almost noble challenge for a 60-year-old Camping Virgin. But then, I've never been one to do things half-way.

I had just found the perfect Zen Gypsy Van, an older Toyota Sienna, chosen for its safety factor and low miles. But now, I had to gear up.

The more I researched, the more I realized how woefully ignorant I was (and still am) about outdoor survival necessities. Some of the equipment I started seeing were things I didn't even have names for . . . but before long I felt like a connoisseur of bungee cords, tie-downs, tent stakes, tarps, rain flys, solar showers, water purifiers and the like.

I was fascinated by all the 'must-have lists.' All of them called for two things: waterproof matches and rope. What kind of rope? I wondered. There were about a zillion different kinds. And tent stakes—there were huge discussions online about tent stakes. Glow-in-the-dark stakes? I guess that made sense . . . but many these things were quite over the top and expensive, at least to my mind.

I found myself laughing out loud as I thought about what to put on the Zen Gypsy Van. I mean, really, what did you really need in the outdoors? A tent and a tarp. A metal cup/bowl, a "spork" (spoon + fork for the uninitiated) and some waterproof matches. Okay, maybe a lighter and a 60-day lantern would be nice. And a propane stove. (I genuflect to the God Coleman.) Beyond that, it was all rather frou-frou.

But then I remembered. This was "glamping."

It was my maternal grandmother who once insisted that, "a little glamour never hurt anyone," so I will credit/blame her for starting me down this road. Glamping (or glamour + camping) turned out to be a huge wave. People were firing up their old AirStreams and outfitting them like a Fashion Armageddon was around the corner. Luxury yurts, high-end treehouses, AirBnB schooners—wow—where had I been? My little Zen Gypsy Van definitely needed some sprucing up.

So here, for those interested, is the stuff I ended up with putting on the Zen Gypsy Van. Whether you will think me an absolute lunatic after reading it, or a brilliant trailblazer (my preferred appellation) is completely up to you.