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If you know New England, you know that Memorial Day can either feel like August or November. May is “spring,” whatever that means around here…so what did we decide to do? Book a weekend camping trip. Now let me be completely honest: neither G nor I is what you might consider “hard-core.” We like to think of ourselves as “outdoorsy,” but I mainly just like the gear, apparel, and photo ops. I don’t like the cold much, the woods kind of freak me out, and I’m not really a fan of “wildlife” or bugs. Gear, apparel, and photos…at least I’m honest!

Backstory: I didn’t camp as a kid. My sisters and I never attended overnight camps, and I’m not sure I had ever roasted a marshmallow as a child. I spent my first night in a tent when I was in my mid-20s. Growing up, we had gone swimming in oceans but not lakes. We had a pool, and we pretty much spent each moment swimming and doing much-too-unsafe jumps off our diving board. Suffice it to say, my family was not really an “outdoorsy” one.

When I came up to New Hampshire to attend college, I envied my peers who talked of climbing mountains as just something they did on weekends, whose family vacations included tents and campfires, and who wore flannels (okay, it was the early 90s—we ALL wore flannels). I felt like I was missing out…that I wasn’t a “real” New Englander (okay, some people think Connecticut doesn’t deserve inclusion in the NE club anyway, but that’s a topic for another time). G, on the other hand, had camped as kid and wasn’t really sure if he wanted to make camping a part of his adult life. But I did. And so, I convinced him (read: wore him down), and we camped a bit early in our marriage. He insisted on a BIG 6-person tent (yup!!) so he could fully stand up inside, and I didn’t complain—I just wanted to be someone who “camped.” Plus, he was the one who set it up and took it down, so who was I to argue?

Our “camping” lasted a few years. I’m not sure how or why we stopped. But in my mind, I yearned to return to that vision of ourselves. But now, in my mid-40s and G in his early 50s, the idea of sleeping in a tent on the ground wasn’t one that we were both thrilled to return to. And then I started looking at vans. And rooftop tents. And trailers. And then back to vans. If you’ve been reading the blog, you know that we bought a van in November—a 2002 VW Eurovan Weekender…with the cool Westfalia pop-top. She’s a beauty…I’m in love. And for Memorial Day weekend, we headed off to Maine for our maiden voyage.

With a road trip planned for the end of June/July to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary, we figured it might be a good idea to take the van out beforehand and get all the kinks out (like figuring out if we would be able to share a mattress—we’re used to a king bed—and if we would end up wanting to kill each other…you know, typical partner stuff). I had been researching “oceanfront camping in New England” and “best campgrounds New England” for months, and one place kept coming up: Hermit Island Campground in Phippsburg, Maine. And so, on the first opportunity we could (late February/early March), we called and booked a prime oceanfront site for Memorial Day weekend, and boy, we were not disappointed. And then I obsessively watched weather reports to see just how cold MDW would be…and in my head, I had a hotel lined up, just in case.

The campground, only two hours from home, felt worlds away. While we love Maine, our explorations have mainly been focused on southern Maine (Kittery to Freeport) and Downeast Maine—the home of Acadia National Park, one of our favorite places. The Casco Bay region, where Hermit Island is located, isn’t one that we’ve explored much beyond a few day trips.

I was excited to not only get the van out and camp but also to use my new camera—I had upgraded earlier in the spring from Fuji’s X-T20 to the X-T30, and I was looking forward to using that (and the Fuji X100F, of course). The lens that pretty much stayed glued to my X-T30 for the weekend was the Fuji 14mm; I love this lens!!! While I continue to covet the 10-24, I can’t just can’t imagine giving the 14mm up—I’d love to go wider, but I’d certainly be sacrificing size/weight/ portability. And that’s why I went mirrorless in the first place. But I digress…

Hermit Island Campground is large. We didn’t explore the campground much (ugh, we ran out of time!!), so I can’t describe other sites or the trails. I can, however, tell you that our van’s shocks ended up surviving the obstacle-course of an entrance (a dirt road that could use some filling in!). While there are 271 sites for campers, RVs and hard-topped campers aren’t allowed, and there are no hookups. I imagine that the campground policies help keep its vibe pretty quiet. The rules? No more than two adults (and accompanying minor children) permitted at each site; only one car allowed per site; no visitors allowed at the campground—only registered campers; no pets. While some might not love the policies, we appreciated them. The end result is a campground that is both quiet and rustic and goes to great pains to preserve not only its natural beauty but also its feeling of being an escape. We were in site 12 in the Joe’s Head area of the campground. With 180° of rocky coastline views, we were in heaven.

The weather was typical New England: a little bit of everything (except snow). The nights were chilly, getting down into the mid-40s our first night, and then in the low 50s the next two nights. We were prepared, though, with our 30° Nemo (shout-out to this local NH company!) down sleeping bags (the Rave for me, and the Disco for G) and two Rumpl blankets—a one-person down Rumpl and a down throw (you can never have enough Rumpls…seriously). I also used my Cocoon merino wool liner inside my bag for the first two nights and wore layers. G sleeps a lot warmer than I and didn’t layer or use a liner. We had plenty of room on the main (lower) mattress, so much so that neither of us felt the other roll over or get up during the night (G, to pee…a lot. Note: a half-gallon jug is a good thing.)

First night = success.

A strong rainstorm rolled in the second night, and I’ve never been more happy to NOT have been in a tent. While the sound of rain against the van kept us from deep sleep, the pop-top (which we kept up for the extra space but didn’t sleep in) stayed dry, and we were happy.

Second night = success.

By the third night, we had our system down (and I can’t believe I didn’t get any pics of the interior of the van!). Just before climbing in my bag, I walked the 125 steps down to the vault toilet. While I tend to get up at least once most nights (um, yeah, I soooo love being in mid-40s), my body cooperated, and I didn’t need to pee during the night. Whew. I’m not sure what I would have done, as I’m not too thrilled about the idea of walking down to a dark (though clean) vault toilet. I’m a scaredy-cat in the dark, I’ve never mastered the squat-and-pee-in-the-woods (see above re: not being really “outdoorsy), and I didn’t trust using the Go Girl without practicing a bit first (which I didn’t do—it’s been years…). So, back to our system: First, we shuffled our stuff from the back of the van to the front. With the loss of storage space behind the bench seat once we put it down for our bed, we moved our bags to the front seats. G’s bag went on the driver’s seat, my bag on the passenger’s seat, and my backpack and cameras on the floor in front of that seat. The Yeti Tundra 45 cooler, which we leave directly behind the driver’s seat (we removed the two seats directly behind the driver’s and passenger’s seats), made for a great nightstand. After pulling all of the side and back curtains closed and fastening the front curtain (we eventually got the hang of that one!), we were ready for bed.

Note: G and I are spoiled. We sleep on a king-sized Temur-Pedic mattress at home. So, earlier this spring, we purchased from GoWesty the 2” mattress topper for the Eurovan’s lower mattress—and we’re so glad we did. It’s pricey—but worth it. Again: we’re really not “hard core.”

Wearing my sleeping mask and ear plugs (still looking for the perfect ear buds for sleep!!), I was out and slept soooo well. I forgot how nice it was to fall asleep after the sun sets and wake when the sun rises. And we were so lucky to have an incredible view of the sun setting over Casco Bay each night.

Third night = success.

Damn, how I’ve missed camping…and here’s to camping 2.0/glamping from here on out!

I’m not sure what I love more—the sound of waves or the sound of crackling wood, the smell of the sea or the smell of a campfire. At Hermit Island, I didn’t have to choose; I had the best of both worlds.

Stay tuned for the next posts to read about some fantastic sights in the area and our three-day/three-lobster-rolls mission!

Van camping trip #1 to Hermit Island, Phippsburg, Maine

Three days, three lobster rolls

Highway 1...and a detour to Pinnacles NP