Chasing Campsites with Wickked & Wild Child
Learning to Back Up, Laugh It Off, and Find Peace in the Pines
There’s something wildly freeing about hooking up a camper, climbing into the driver’s seat of my orange Jeep Wrangler Wickked, and heading toward the trees with my little pop-up camper, Wild Child, bouncing along behind me.
Now… let me be honest.
The actual driving there?
Easy.
The backing into a campsite part?
That’s where the entertainment begins.
I’m still learning the fine art of backing up a camper, and if you’ve ever watched someone attempt to reverse a pop-up into a tight campsite while muttering motivational speeches to themselves, then congratulations — you already understand my camping adventures.
Every trip starts with confidence:
“I’ve got this.”
Then suddenly:
- the camper is going the opposite direction,
- the steering wheel feels possessed,
- people nearby somehow appear out of nowhere,
- and I begin bargaining with the universe for a pull-through site.
I still very much prefer pull-through campsites. They feel like a gift from the camping gods. No pressure. No audience. No accidental zig-zagging while trying to look calm and experienced.
But despite the awkward angles, extra attempts, and occasional “reset and try again,” there’s something deeply satisfying about figuring it out myself.
Because camping alone teaches you things.
It teaches patience.
Problem-solving.
Humility.
And how to laugh when your camper ends up slightly crooked and you decide:
“Good enough. We live here now.”
Once Wild Child is popped open and the camp chairs come out, all the chaos fades away.
That’s the magic part.
The smell of pine trees.
Coffee brewing at neighboring campsites.
The sound of birds waking up before sunrise.
The quiet crackle of a campfire at night.
The way the world suddenly slows down when you’re surrounded by nature instead of notifications.
Out there, life feels simpler.
No rush.
No expectations.
Just me, Wickked, Wild Child, and whatever adventure waits down the next road.
And honestly?
I think that’s why I keep going back.
Not because I’m an expert camper.
But because every trip reminds me that growth doesn’t have to look polished. Sometimes it looks like missing the campsite angle three times before finally getting it right. Sometimes it looks like burnt marshmallows, tangled cords, and forgetting where you packed the flashlight.
And sometimes it looks like finding peace in the middle of beautiful chaos.
So here’s to more back-up attempts.
More campfires.
More wrong turns.
More stories.
And more wandering.
Because this Jeepsy soul was never meant to stay parked for too long.
