Car camping is, hands down, my favorite way to travel. It’s budget-friendly, flexible, and allows you to see more in less time. Over the years, I’ve taken everything from quick weekend getaways to month-long adventures, learning through trial and error how to make each trip safe, efficient, and—most importantly—fun.
I could talk about car camping for days, but for now, I’m narrowing it down to the biggest lessons I’ve learned (sometimes the hard way) so you don’t have to. If you’re looking for more detailed, tangible car camping resources, be sure to check out Explorer’s Essentials and The Road Less Traveled.
Now, let’s hit the road.
When you’re camping in a car there are a few things that I consider to be essentials and they can be broken down into five categories: sleeping, eating, playing, safety, and bathroom.
Sleeping
Confession: I’m afraid of the dark. Like, genuinely terrified sometimes. I should probably be embarrassed to admit that, but hey, that’s life. Because of that, I don’t exactly feel brave when I set up for a night of solo car camping—at least not until the sun goes down. Then, it feels like an act of courage, because my mind starts spinning scenarios that could give M. Night Shyamalan nightmares.
So, trust me when I say that making my car as comfortable as my bed at home is a top priority. If I’m already working up the nerve to fall asleep, I’m not about to let a lumpy mattress wake me up once I do.
I’ve tested out all kinds of sleep setups in my little Jeep. In the beginning, I went old-school pallet style—taking the memory foam topper from my bed, wrapping it in a comforter, and calling it good. It was just as cozy as home, but setting it up took time, and packing it away was a hassle.
This summer, I upgraded to a high-quality sleeping pad that packs down to the size of a Nalgene bottle. Paired with an inflatable travel pillow, my entire sleep setup now fits in the back pocket of my driver’s seat—compact, convenient, and always ready for a spontaneous road trip. Granted, I still bring a few pillows from my bed (and some stuffed animals for backup security), but having the essentials always in my car has made for some top-tier naps on day trips.
Sleeping in your car doesn’t have to be fancy. In fact, the simpler, the better.
Eating
I love food—not just because it keeps me alive. I always say, “Food is fuel, AND food is fun!” And I never let the fact that I’m eating out of a cooler or cooking on a tiny camping stove stop me from being a wizard in the camping kitchen.
One of my favorite meals was cooked in the dark, surrounded by towering Redwoods. Before that trip, I stopped by a Korean supermarket and stocked up on beef bulgogi and all the banchan I needed to have my own AYCE KBBQ in the woods. That same trip, I made Philly cheesesteaks using the recipe I learned while slinging cheesesteaks in grad school at Urgie’s Cheesesteak Shop—plus a spicy pork fried rice with marinated pork from that same Korean market.
As much as I love cooking good food on the road, I love finding hidden gems along the way even more. One of my favorite finds? A little beach shack in the parking lot of Murphy’s grocery store in Trinidad, CA. I had been to Murphy’s a few times but always ignored The Lighthouse Grill—until one day, I noticed the girl in line behind me at Murphy’s holding something wrapped in aluminum foil. With bloodshot red eyes and a lazy smile, she looked at me and said, “It’s a mashed potato cone.”
I didn’t even stop to put my groceries away. I went straight to The Lighthouse Grill and ordered one. A savory cone made of cornmeal, garlic, rosemary, and chives, filled with mashed potatoes, gravy, bacon, cheese, and brisket. I got a little teary-eyed after the first bite. Not just because it was that good, but because it hit me—I had only found it because I was finally chasing my dream of traveling. The hard work I had put into my life had led me to this moment, standing in a parking lot, discovering my new favorite food.
Now, I stop at The Lighthouse Grill every time I’m in the area. I even got to bring my mom and niece there, and they agreed—the mashed potato cone is as good as I say it is. Maybe even better.
Playing
I once called my sister from the road and told her I wasn’t sure anyone would want to road trip with me—I don’t really do anything all that exciting. Because I’m usually on a tight budget (working with kids is noble, but not lucrative), my activities on trips are limited. But that suits me just fine. I can narrow my “playing” down to two things: hiking and photography. Lucky for me, both are free, and both bring me an immense amount of joy.
When I plan a road trip, I always opt for a scenic route—skipping freeways and weaving through nature. My stops? Grocery stores, gas stations, and trailheads. By far, my favorite scenic drive is the Pacific Coast Highway. I’m actually about to head out on another week-long trip up the coast, and I couldn’t be more excited. What’s special about the PCH is that you could throw a stone and hit three hiking trails along the way, each more beautiful than the last.
My favorite section is the Samuel H. Boardman Scenic Corridor in Oregon. It’s one of the most magical places I’ve ever been—a 12-mile stretch of craggy bluffs, secret beaches, and the iconic offshore rock formations that define the Pacific Coast. Even though it’s only 12 miles, it takes me hours to get through because of the endless turnoffs, each one offering a breathtaking view.
One of the most famous stops is Natural Bridges, which sits just off the left of the turnout. But on one trip, I took a chance and veered right instead. I was rewarded with a hidden beach and a view that completely took my breath away. The best part? No one else was there—everyone was too focused on Natural Bridges to notice the magic just a few steps away.
I can’t adequately describe the feeling this place gives me, but I hope you can see some of its magic through my photos. Though, I highly recommend experiencing it in person for yourself.
Safety
People always tell me I’m brave for traveling solo, but I never quite believe them—because I don’t feel brave doing it. There haven’t been too many times where I’ve felt truly courageous while traveling, but there have been moments where I’ve felt downright stupid because I knew what I was doing wasn’t the safest.
Take this one time, when I was driving home from Lake Tahoe and decided to take the scenic route. When I pick a scenic route, I usually zoom out on my GPS and see what forks I can take to explore. This time, one fork took me off-roading, and I ended up at a snow-fed pond. When I got out of my car, I passed a sign warning about mountain lions in the area—so I was already toeing the line between adventurous and reckless.
My second questionable decision came in the form of a lost hat. I was taking pictures of the lake, surrounded by the towering Sierra mountains, when the wind ripped my hat right off my head. Normally, I’d let it go—but I had just bought that hat at a farmers’ market in Oakland. It was the perfect light purple baseball cap, with the Space Jam logo but swapped to say “Oakland” instead. I wasn’t ready to part with it.
So, without much thought, I waded in after it. It was an incredibly windy day, and every time I took a step forward, the wind pushed the hat further out. At first, I told myself I’d only go in up to my knees. Then my thighs. Then my waist. With each step, I kept thinking, This is so stupid, Sarah. At one point, I realized I had forgotten to take off my jacket, so now I was hiking that up while still pushing deeper into the icy water.
I eventually got the hat, triumphantly made it back to my car, and was ready to change into dry clothes and head out. Crisis averted!
Or so I thought.
That’s when I realized my phone was missing.
My heart sank as it hit me—my phone had been in my pocket the whole time.
So, I went back for round two. This time, much more panicked, I waded into the freezing water, hoping I could feel around with my shoes and somehow find my phone. As you can imagine, this was a completely useless plan. I had just enough self-preservation to know that dunking my head into the icy water would probably send my body into shock, so I walked back to my car in defeat.
Then the real panic set in. Not only was I now stranded without a phone, but I had off-roaded to get to this lake. What if I couldn’t find my way back to the main road? I berated myself for taking the risk in the first place, but luckily, I have a great memory for directions and an external GPS. I managed to navigate back to civilization, still rattled by how badly that could have gone.
I made a beeline for the nearest Verizon store, called my dad (shaken but alive), and got a new phone fairly quickly.
That quick excursion taught me a lesson in safety that still sticks with me on the road: sometimes, a lost hat just needs to stay lost.
Bathroom
This last lesson was one I learned the hard way—but honestly, I’m pretty proud of my (mostly) successful execution.
This year, I went on a month-long road trip around New England. It was the first trip I planned entirely on my own, and since I hadn’t booked any campsites, I decided to wild camp the entire time. By the time of this story, I was three weeks in and feeling pretty confident about stealth camping.
The night before my birthday, I was heading to Bar Harbor, planning to spend the next day exploring Acadia. Originally, this was the one night I had planned to splurge on a campsite—but, of course, every single one had closed for the season literally the day before. Go figure.
I checked iOverlander and saw that the Walmart near Bar Harbor allowed overnight parking. When I arrived and saw it full of RVs, I was stoked. A safe, quiet place to park? Perfect.
I got settled in, used the Walmart bathroom before it closed at 11:00, and had one of the best nights of sleep of my entire trip.
The next day—my birthday—was absolutely perfect. Acadia was everything I had hoped for and then some. Since Walmart had worked out so well, I decided to stay in the area one more night to squeeze in even more time in the park.
I was not so lucky this time.
I followed the same routine as the night before—used the bathroom before Walmart closed, then went to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke up absolutely desperate for the bathroom. And that’s when it hit me: I had no backup plan.
I was parked under a streetlight, surrounded by cameras and RVs, and on the verge of peeing my pants. So, I swallowed my pride, grabbed an empty Gatorade bottle, and—thankfully—had the forethought to put a trash bag underneath just in case. With some careful maneuvering, I (mostly) pulled it off. Let’s just say I was very grateful for the trash bag, baby wipes, and hand sanitizer I always keep on hand for situations like this.
Now, I always have a backup bathroom plan when camping in a popular area. And I never throw away my Gatorade bottles on a road trip—just in case.