With the Tesla Camp Mode, car camping in a Tesla is a breeze. Here's everything you need to know and the gear I recommend for sleeping in your Tesla.

My least favourite time of year is the end of hiking and backpacking season in the northern hemisphere. But there is always an inevitable turning point where the season makes its move from summer to winter and with that I am forced to pack up all of my camping gear and out it down for a winter hibernation. The first few years I got into the outdoors I invested a lot of money into my gear but didn’t know how to store my gear properly and then the following late spring as the alpine began to thaw I questioned why my tent was no longer waterproof (and had a very poignant smell as I pulled it out of its stuff sack for the first time) and my sleeping bags no longer kept me as warm as they once did - as they promised to. So I dug deep into the internet and jumped down a rabbit hole or two and compiled my own end of season gear storage checklist.

If you’re anything like me - purchasing new (or new to me) hiking and backpacking gear is a big financial investment, and I want to protect it and extend its life as much as possible. From the get-go there are things we can all do - like buying a footprint for our tents and liners for our sleeping bags. But inevitably, as time goes on and we use and love our tents, sleeping bags and outerwear (both shells and insulating layers), some basic and not so basic maintenance needs to be preformed. A few years ago a very helpful employee at REI in Seattle introduced me to Nikwax products and (metaphorically) held my hand explaining the ins and outs of outdoor gear maintenance this has become a end of season ritual for me. Before my gear goes away from the winter ahead I take some time to inspect, clean and do repairs (or preventative steps) to all of my backpacking gear.

My very first backcountry camping trip was to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and one of my favourite memories from that trip happened before it even started. The night before we set out, on the floor of a hotel lobby in Flagstaff, AZ with the guides we hired going piece by piece through our gear - them laughing and veto’ing my third pair of clean clothes, the hardcover novel my mother packed and the plethora of full sized toiletries we thought that we needed for the trail. It was in that lobby that I came to the realization that I was in over my head. But they held our hands and showed us step by step how to intricately fit our gear into the bags that we would be slinging on our backs for the subsequent four days on the trail. That not only what we brought matters but how we jenga’d it all together would make or break our trip.

“Cyclists see considerably more of this beautiful world than any other class of citizens. A good bicycle, well applied, will cure most ills this flesh is heir to” – Dr K.K. Doty

A lot of children grow up riding bicycles around the neighbourhood. I was not one of those children; I had no bike and no neighbourhood. It was not until my adult life that I fell in love with cycling. This love was a bit of a slow burn - the kind that, fortunately for me, makes for the longest lasting relationships. In the beginning I had trouble clipping in and out of my pedals efficiently (nobody taught me how and so, on more than one occasion, I ended up bike over body in the ditch on the side of the road), my seat was rigid and uncomfortable and hunching over tired my back and neck quickly.

My first pair of hiking boots were not hiking boots at all, they were an old pair of Nike Free running shoes. The treads that were nearly non existent to begin with had worn out and after the first slip down a scree slope (intentional) there were holes in the mesh if both inner arches. I wore them for a season or two before fully committing to the hiking lifestyle. That commitment came with a few years of feeling like goldilocks, a pair too big, a pair to small, some that gave blisters or rubbed the skin off my ankles or cut off circulation to my baby toes. I thought that breaking in a pair of boots was a badge of honour. Thats not the case - the right pair of boots for you will not require a painful courting process. And in this quest I have found a pair for every occasion. From sandals for river crossing to the warmest of winter hiking boots this is a list of the outdoor footwear in my gear closet.

This summer while waiting for a ferry that we just missed I got to chatting with the car in front of us and to my delight he works as a superintendent with Parks Canada. I peppered him with questions about his favourite hikes, the best parks and even learned a thing or two about how to properly use frequent flier miles. But somewhere just shy of an hour into the conversation we stumbled upon backcountry safety. He told a story of learning to backcountry ski in Roger’s Pass, how (rightfully so) he got chewed out by a group from Canmore when he and his friends rode a far too dangerous line. That they went, tails tucked between their legs, took the classes, picked up the gear and got the certifications. With more people than ever getting out of the city into their own little pieces of paradise there has also been a vast upswing in Search and Rescue calls this summer. He told us stories of calls that the parks had been receiving, about people with so many SAR

One of my most commonly asked questions by a long shot has been, for years, variations of “How do I go to the washroom in the backcountry?” As someone who grew up with the belief that this was not an appropriate topic to discuss publicly I ignored these questions. That was, until backpacking with my mom in the desert of Arizona she asked me for some advice in regards to pooping protocol. If I had failed even my own mother… I knew it was time to tackle this subject. And so I present to you, a little “on the job” lessons learned as well as a whole lot of research so that even if this is your first time peeing, pooping, washing yourself or having you time of the month in the woods, we will get through it together!