When you hike in the backcountry or even at a state park, you often need to sleep at a primitive campsite that has nothing but a firepit and possibly a picnic table—indeed, that’s much of what makes it fun. But unless you’re a deer or a pooch, you’ll need a comfortable place to sleep that will protect you from rain and insects. The choices you make can make your pack heavier, and the less weight you carry, the more you’ll enjoy backpacking. So here are some insights I’ve learned as a new Central Florida backpacker.
To Tent or Not to Tent: The standard for protecting yourself from the elements and critters is a tent, but that is not your only choice. Many backpackers prefer options that weigh less and take up less room in your backpack. Some prefer hammocks, and others are even content to hang only a mosquito net over their sleeping bag if they don’t expect rain. But those options have their drawbacks.
For a hammock to protect you from rain, dew, and insects, it needs to include a shelter, so many hammocks actually weigh more than tents. As a side sleeper, I’ve also never been able to sleep in a hammock while lying on my back curved like a banana—but I’ve met other side sleepers who swear by them.
Going with only a hanging mosquito net is the lightest option, but to serve its purpose, you need to stake it securely into the ground, and even then, chances are the mosquitos will still find their way in. I’ve also heard of mosquito nets tearing easily. Ants will also have an easier time getting to you.
So I go with a tent. Tents also provide psychological security—Their thin fabric may not provide you actual protection from raccoons, bears, or other things that might bother you if rabid, but they’ll make you feel more secure from them.
What I Use: The selection of a tent involves balancing size with weight—The more room inside (or the less you spend), the more weight you typically carry on your back. For me, less is more, and I used to prefer a small, confined tent or “bivvy” to a larger, heavier tent. I’m speaking here about the Eureka Solitaire AL on the front page of this blog, which I bought from Dick’s for only $125—substantially less than what you’re likely to pay at REI for a nicer tent. It weighs slightly more than 3 pounds, but it is not much bigger than a coffin—It’s only 28 inches high at its highest point, and only 8 feet long and 3 feet wide. That leaves no room inside for a backpack.
But right before I did a one-nighter on the Ice Age Trail when I knew I’d have rain, I splurged at REI for a Nemo Hornet Osmo. It cost more than $400, but I have no regrets. Compared to my last tent, it feels like a penthouse—now I can finally sit upright and keep my backpack inside, which is pretty important when it rains. It’s also light—only 2 pounds 8 ounces with the rain cover, 2 pounds 1 ounce without the rain cover (I only bring the cover when I expect rain). It also has smart easy access pockets, including a yellow one in the top center that’s a perfect place to stash your headlamp upside down for non-blinding interior lighting. It’s also great in rain, as the rain cover extends out on both sides from the doors, where you can let wet boots and socks dry.
I also carry a tarp to place beneath my tent, to lift me off Florida’s ground which can be notoriously wet and spongy even when it’s not raining. Many tent manufacturers also sell lighter tent bottoms that form fit your specific tent and keep your packing weight down.
Backpacking stores like REI have lots of tent options that are not much heavier and provide more interior space. Nice tents can get pretty expensive, so explore your options, as shopping for a tent can be fun.
Sleeping Bags: In Florida, you need to be mindful of the climate. You have to be ready for rain, humidity, and going to bed sweaty even when it’s cold. So you don’t want a cotton sleeping bag—cotton is heavier, especially when wet, and the famous backpacking proverb “cotton kills” should not be ignored. If you get wet and attempt to sleep in cold weather in only cotton, you risk hypothermia. Synthetic fabrics are lighter and keep you warmer and drier, but they can be less comfortable, as they stick to skin like saran wrap. The gold standard is silk—It’s light, comfortable, and warm, but it’s also expensive. Sleeping quilts are also popular and are sold at backpacking stores like REI.
After initially lugging around a much heavier sleeping bag from my Boy Scout days that had a cotton liner and a synthetic outer shell, I splurged at REI for a Kelty Galactic rated for temperatures as low as 30 degrees for around $200, comprised of synthetic fabric stuffed with down. It’s comfortable (albeit clingy), light weight, and fits inside my pack with my air mattress and the rest of my gear. It’s also orange and blue, but that’s not why I picked it. Well, not the only reason.
Sleeping bags are not always necessary. You only really need them to stay warm, and although they provide extra cushioning, you’d be surprised how comfortable an air mattress can be. So unless I expect temperatures under 60 degrees, I leave the sleeping bag at home and take only a sleeping bag liner. A sleeping bag liner is a cotton sheet folded in half and sewn together. You can buy them in backpacking stores, but you can also make your own by folding a bed sheet in half and sewing shut the end where you put your feet and half of the long side. The conventional purpose of a sleeping bag liner is to provide a comfortable and more easily laundered inner shell for a synthetic sleeping bag. But they are also perfect for sleeping in warmer temperatures—I don’t get uncomfortably hot in them, and I can sleep inside them without clothes when it’s hot without sticking to the inside as I would in my sleeping bag.
Mattresses and Pillows: Some purists may be able to sleep on the ground with nothing between themselves and mother earth but a sleeping bag and tent floor, but I can’t, it’s just too hard to find a spot that doesn’t have roots that will dig into my ribs. But a big inflatable air mattress will suck up room inside your pack and make you hyperventilate after a long hike. So I now use a self-inflating Thermarest air mattress that I bought from Dick’s for $75. It’s small and often a pain in the neck to deflate fully and squeeze into its bag, but it’s surprisingly comfortable and fits inside my backpack perfectly. Many other options are available at stores like REI.
As I also discussed in another recent post, I will not go on the trail without one of those cushy neck pillows sold at airports. They’re bulky and waste space inside my pack, but their horseshoe shape supports my skull perfectly in a sleeping bag. Alternatives include inflatable pillows (which I find uncomfortable) or your clothing bag (which fails to support my head). Or presumably real backpackers go without pillows.
Other Tips for Sleeping in a Tent: The arch enemy of comfort in a tent, especially in Florida, is sand—If sand gets anywhere inside your tent, it will get everywhere. The best way to avoid sand pollution is to strap camp sandals to the outside of your pack and take off your boots outside your tent before putting on the more easily removed camp sandals, which you can slip off before getting into your tent. By camp sandals, I mean what you’d wear at home—flip flops are okay, but I prefer waterproof light sandals that you can wear with your socks when it’s cold.
The other enemy of tent comfort is the mosquito population. Mosquitoes suck (pardon pun) and they are a part of life in Florida, but they don’t need to be biting you while you’re trying to find comfort sleeping on the ground. Avoid getting in and out of your tent as much as possible—Go in only when you go to bed, get out only when you get up for the day, try not to pee in the middle of the night, and leave your backpack outside while in camp so you don’t have to open your tent to access things you need. Also, try to avoid opening your tent around sunset (that’s when the mosquitos attack most), and practice getting in and out of your tent quickly.
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