Our First Camping Trip- A California Miniseries

Welcome back to the Homegrown Travelers blog! After a few weeks off for a camping trip, we have finally put away the suitcases, recovered from our sunburns, and settled back into routine. Thank you for your patience, dear readers! Now that we have finished our Dakotas series, we will be jumping into a California miniseries. We had so much fun on our first camping trip that I couldn’t resist writing about it! Our regular publishing schedule will resume soon. Thank you for sticking around!

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Featured photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/iWnLYtnRu3KNkTwAA

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April 4th, 2025 - Channel Islands Day 1

Channel Islands National Park has held a special place in our hearts since our first visit in 2023. We had no idea what to expect when we first journeyed an hour across the Pacific. As our boat bounced over waves, a dark shape loomed in thick fog. As we drew nearer, we gradually caught glimpses of lush green hills, rocky spires, and wheeling seabirds. Our first steps on the island were awestruck. The island was like nothing we had ever seen before. Unfortunately, our first visit was dampened by the fog. To borrow the colloquial, it was thicker than pea soup. When we hiked on Santa Cruz Island, all of the iconic cliffs, overlooks, and sweeping vistas were grey, grey, grey. Despite the disappointing fog, something about the islands enchanted us. There was a quiet mystery about the place. We vowed, there and then, that we would someday return to Channel Islands.

And we did.

We decided to camp on the island this time. This decision was inspired by a policewoman we had met during our first visit. She had been laden with a massive backpack and a huge smile. She made a yearly practice of journeying out to the islands to camp all by herself. It was her way of disconnecting from work and rediscovering peace. We liked that idea so much that we decided to copy her. To be clear, Tyler and I have never camped before. It’s not that we have reservations about camping. We just never got around to it. The policewoman gave us inspiration to try something new. And boy, did we have a lot to learn! 

Camping on an island is much different than camping on the mainland. To clarify, packing for a camping trip on an island is a heck of a lot harder than a normal camping trip. When you’re flying across the country to go camping, you have to somehow cram all of your camping gear into suitcases without paying for oversized luggage fees or extra checked bags. And oh, make sure all of your pocketknives, hiking sticks, and batteries are placed in the right suitcases, or TSA will get you! Did you know that matches are only allowed in a carry-on bag, but peanut butter has to go in a checked bag? And if you enjoy personalizing your coffee with your own coffee creamer (ahem, Tyler), make sure you put the powered coffee creamer in your backpack. Without fail, TSA will want to swab it for suspicious substances. It’s nothing personal. If anyone else was travelling with a mysterious white powder in their backpack, I would hope that TSA would check them too!

As soon as our plane landed in Santa Barbara, we were wandering the aisles of a California Walmart. No campfires were allowed on our island, which smashed my hopes and dreams of gorging myself on s’mores. After mourning the absence of chocolately marshmallow goodness on our first camping trip, we resigned ourselves to the situation. Without a campfire, what were we going to eat? We’d have to get creative. After reading a few articles from REI, we settled on portable propane burners to serve our needs. The pocket-sized devices could screw onto the top of a propane bottle, allowing a flame to be lit under a burner. We bought an adorable set of pots and pans to go with the burner. I envisioned myself folding out the collapsible handle of the saucepot, delicately placing it on the propane burner, and cooking cuisine like Julia Child of the forest. This idea was immediately quashed when we realized that we couldn’t bring anything cold to the island. No eggs, no meat, and no milk for Tyler’s Oreos. Not to be discouraged, we decided on a well-balanced diet of canned beans, peas, and beef stew instead. We piled the strange assortment into our cart, along with propane canisters (can’t fly those across the country in a suitcase), fruit, and plastic totes. The totes were an unfortunate necessity. With the island’s large population of endemic foxes, we couldn’t store our gear in the suitcases we had traveled with. Foxes know how to undo zippers, and we weren’t interested in a free dispersal of hiking gear and underwear across the campground. Totes teetering precariously on top of our shopping cart, we exited the Walmart. 

Back at our hotel, we unpacked our (very heavy) suitcases and repacked the contents into the (now very heavy) totes. The weight was concerning. Our charter boat to the island had some tricky restrictions about gear, and weight limits was one of them. No single item could weigh more than 45 lbs. Each camper was limited to 60 lbs of gear per person. Propane had to be stored separately from the rest of the gear, as did drinking water. Fearing rejection from the boat company, we packed the best we could and arrived at the dock extra early the next morning. The boat crew looked at us like we were crazy when we reported for a 9 AM boat ride at 7 AM! After explaining our weight predicament, they graciously helped us weigh our gear early. They also graciously lent us a cooler when we learned our cans of food had put one of our totes far over the weight limit. It was twenty pounds heavier than it should have been! 

I didn’t fully grasp the excitement of our situation until we were halfway across the ocean. With our gear safely on board and the island growing on the horizon, reality finally sank in. We were going camping! There wasn’t a hint of fog when we docked at Scorpion Anchorage on Santa Cruz Island. Scrub jays flapped about the historic ranch house and rusted farm equipment near the dock. The island had once homed sheep ranchers, and their farm had now been incorporated into the park’s landscape. A bright white sun warmed our shoulders as we lugged our gear into camp. Eucalyptus trees cast a sweet, spicy perfume into air. It was lovely. 

After we erected our tent, we laced up our hiking shoes and took to the trails. We chose an overlook we had attempted during our previous fog-shrouded visit. This time, the sky was brilliant, the sun bright, and the views spectacular. Pelicans flew in formations remniscient of bomber planes. Seagulls rose and crested on air currents from the beach below. Steadily paddling through brilliant water, a line of kayaks followed the cliff’s edge beneath us. It was as colorful as our previous visit had been dull. Yet the peace and solitude remained the same. As we returned to our camp to prepare our first outdoor supper, I found myself settling into the phenomenon known as “island time.” Island time typically refers to the late arrivals of island inhabitants in places such as the Caribbean. In the tropical heat, everyone slows down. Nobody stresses about deadlines. They just take it all in stride. I hadn’t expected island time to be a factor on our camping trip, but as soon as we arrived, it started slipping over me. We didn’t have to drive anywhere. I had no emails coming in, no social media notifications vibrating my phone. We didn’t have an aggressive timeline to keep. We were on island time. We could rest. 

And so we did. 

Hiking trails:

Cavern Point Trail