Exploring Campgrounds
The adventure of exploring campgrounds is more than just pitching a tent or parking a van—it’s a way of stepping into a rhythm of life that invites simplicity, presence, and connection with the world around us. Our journey began in the stark, wild beauty of Iceland, where windswept sites hugged the coastlines and steam rose from nearby geothermal pools. Right after driving the Golden Circle, we settled into a nearby campground and discovered the local municipal swimming pool—a surprisingly magical experience. We floated from one pool to another, each offering a different temperature, from soothingly warm to bracingly cool. What a delight it was for us—this unexpected, everyday luxury tucked into a small Icelandic town. It reminded us that every place has something to offer, often in the most unassuming ways.
From there, we ventured into Alaska, where the vast silence and untamed landscapes made every stop feel like a sacred pause. Some campgrounds were little more than gravel pullouts; others offered the comforts of fire rings and clean water. But no matter the amenities, there was always the thrill of waking up beneath towering mountains, hearing the crunch of moose tracks outside the tent, or watching the light stretch endlessly across the sky.
In the last two years, France has offered a different kind of magic. Here, campgrounds are often tucked into vineyards, nestled along rivers, or sitting quietly beneath the plane trees of a sleepy village. Some are rustic, little more than a field and a tap; others feel like open-air inns, complete with bakeries, showers, and even pools. But whether dry and minimal or equipped with every convenience, each site has its own rhythm, its own soul. It was also in France that I learned a valuable lesson: the importance of having a comfortable and sturdy tent. One summer night, a sudden storm swept through. With the flimsy tent I had, I paid the price—drenched, flapping fabric, and restless sleep. I eventually had to seek shelter and move to a covered space for the night. It was humbling, but like all things on the road, it became part of the story.
And now, our journey continues in Washington State. We started at a quiet, private campground just outside Seattle, surrounded by tall evergreens and the gentle hum of city edges softening into nature. From there, we ventured into the heart of the North Cascades, staying at a dry campground right next to the visitor center—no frills, just the essentials and the overwhelming presence of towering peaks and glacier-fed air. One of the highlights was plunging into the icy cold waters of the Skagit River, a shock of life that made us feel fully awake, fully present.
At Cougar Rock Campground in Mount Rainier National Park, we encountered something entirely new: an evening ranger program designed for both kids and adults. It was my first time participating in this kind of activity at a campground, and it left a lasting impression. Under the trees and stars, the ranger shared stories about the park’s wildlife, geology, and Indigenous history. It was a thoughtful and engaging experience—a small but meaningful touch that made the campground feel more connected to the landscape around it.
What we’ve come to love is this: every campground has its own kind of charm. It isn’t about how polished it is—it’s about what it reveals. The terrain, the people, the little surprises. Campgrounds aren’t just a place to rest. They are part of the adventure, shaping how you experience a country, a landscape, and yourself.