Many years ago, I finally gave into my buddy's relentless persistence in trying to convince me to try moto-camping. After one night, I was hooked for life. The new camping gear technologies eliminate all of the fuss and worry about getting wet or cold or having to pack 200 pounds of crap.
But what I didn't realize is that camping allows me to TRULY enjoy what I view as the essence of a motorcycle adventure. I'm 52 years old and for my first 45 years, I lived in a box. Always planning. Always preparing. Always worrying. For what and about what I cannot really say. I guess I always felt an obligation to be responsible and ready for anything, a concept that looks good on paper, but doesn't always work out where the rubber meets the road, if you'll pardon the pun. The side effect of this is that it's exhausting. Physically at times, but mentally at ALL times.
What I realize now is that re-entering the motorcycle hobby at age 45 was about a LOT more than what some may perceive as a mid life crisis. I realized that what I wanted is not what I got. Touring on the motorcycle is the key to the door out of the box that was my life. It allowed me to broaden my horizons, both geographically and (more importantly) emotionally. I learned that there is absolutely nothing to be scared of or even worry about. I still have to use common sense, but in today's world of cell phones, GPS, and credit cards, there is no need to plan for anything, really.
And camping brings that to a much higher level. Since I have my house with me, I don't have to worry about finding any place to live tonight. I don't need any reservation, and by association, I don't need to follow any agenda or route. Long ago, in preparation for a tour, I used to sit at the computer and create these elaborate routes for each day, downloading files from outer space onto my GPS, and printing elaborate turn by turn directions for my tank bag map window. What a joke! By no later than the 2nd day, we'd find a brown sign somewhere, or maybe a particularly interesting section of pavement off to the side somewhere else. Our curiosity would overwhelm us, and off the "route" we go, never to use it again.
In my opinion, when you get to that point, that part where you can wander like a dog following his nose - you have reached the pinnacle of what riding is REALLY about. And all it takes is two things: (1) Confidence that you have the resources and knowledge to address whatever greets you around that next corner, be it good, bad, or otherwise, and (2) Acceptance that it doesn't really matter where you go from here because it is ALL good. Every single mile of it is fantastic and it doesn't matter what the highway sign says. So if that particular instant you aren't bedazzled with a world class discovery, you can take comfort with thoughts running through your mind about the excitement of the unknowing. You can get excited about whatever it is you will discover just over that next hill. And you can stop and sniff as much or as little as you want.
Once you master this, and find 3 or 4 riding friends that buy into it too, well... it just doesn't get any better than that.
As for choosing a campsite, the highest priority for me is a picnic table. Having a place to cook, sit down and eat, and a dry place to unpack and stow your gear is very important. My next highest priority would be a campfire ring and grille. Then I prefer paved driveways and roadways to get to the site. Next would be showers at the campground. After that, I don't care and frankly, if it has nothing else, so much the better because this will eliminate the rolling 1500 square foot houses that bring their boom boom stereos, 75" TVs, 10,000 watt generators, and yappy dogs.
The best kept campground secret in America is the Army Corp of Engineers sites. It's very hard to find them because the don't really advertise them, and the ACOE website is junk. But you can trust me on this - if you find an ACOE campground and are ready to stop, go for it. It will be clean and desolate with plenty of firewood nearby to gather.
