Camping During Wildfire Season

29 Jan, 2025

As the United States continues to deal with the 2025 California Wildfires, we wanted to share this story from James Baroud ambassador David Gonzalez, who explored Bryce Canyon National Park in August of 2024. Join David as he shares the highlights of his camping adventure during wildfire season.

Securing that quintessential camp spot has always been part-planning and part-witchcraft to nail the online registration timing; or the first-come, first-serve position in the queue; or even the juggling of parameters for a safe yet private dispersed camping spot. Since the pandemic-induced migration into the socially distanced wild, the witchcraft part has dominated. Planning is still paramount, though, and flexibility is key. Yet, even with these mad skills, there’s the variability of wildfire. Is your carefully selected and reserved camp spot in the path of an active wildfire, or directly down wind of one? Is your route there impacted by smoke or road closures? Smelling like campfire is integral to the camping experience. Burning eyes and incessant coughing from a wildfire creating an Air Quality Index above 151 is not.

James Baroud Barbecue — Active wildfires in the US West region as of August 7,2024, the date of our adventure

Wildfire is a complex issue. Federal funding for wildfire management resources lags behind demand, especially when you consider both the fires themselves as well as the flooding that follows the loss of vegetation from fire, each requiring different kinds of resources and expertise. The interface between humans and wildfires out West is expanding too. General demand for housing plus the desire to escape the hustle and bustle of city life are pushing development deeper into the woods, increasing the overall threat to life and property from wildfire. Also, climate patterns are changing, creating unprecedented temperatures and dryness in areas that were once less affected. Yet, the 2024 season was one of the mildest in the last decade, as shown in the graph below.

While in the throws of wildfire season, prep for my trip to Red Canyon Campground, at the entrance to Bryce Canyon National Park, began at my storage condo in Boise with a deep clean inside and out of my James Baroud Odyssey rooftop tent, fresh bedding, and the reattachment of two door flap zippers that had worked themselves loose. From there my adventure took me to Brian Head, UT along I-15, where I witnessed the emergence of a fire Southeast of Beaver, UT that casted doubt on my ability to camp at Red Canyon. Numerous websites provide information on the status of wildfires, but it’s incredibly difficult to determine precisely what direction a wildfire is moving in semi-real time, nor what direction its smoke is blowing. From my 10,000 ft elevated perch in Brian Head, overlooking Cedar Breaks and the fire’s billowing smoke, my prospects appeared bleak. However, I called the ranger station at Red Canyon and the ranger, with her endearing German accent, was most helpful in confirming the air quality in the park was actually Good. I departed.

My drive took me along the shoreline of Panguitch Lake. I wanted to see the water up close, so I followed signage to the boat launch, with an image in my mind of a long steepish slab of pavement ending underwater. Instead, I found myself on a network of sandy car trails leading right up to the water, with numerous cars parked on the shoreline within feet of getting wet, several with small boat trailers. I belatedly realized the entire beach was a boat launch! The setting was picturesque. Those in the know had all manner of fishing crafts and were out on the surface of this crystal-clear lake-turned-reservoir angling for some of the state’s largest rainbow trout. No surprise, really, since “Panguitch” originates from the indigenous Paiute name for “big fish”. I was pleasantly surprised by the continued clarity of the skies, as if there wasn’t a massive and growing wildfire further north of me in the Dixie National Forest.

From Panguitch Lake I motored northeast on UT-143 then on to US-89 through the actual town of Panguitch, UT. Along this drive I could see the billowing smoke, expanding in breadth and height with each passing mile, but remaining in the distance – the wind, my friend. Driving up Red Canyon remained completely clear of smoke too so I made a loop through the campground, filled with trepidation that my planning and witchcraft wouldn’t be enough. Rewardingly it was, this time. I picked and paid for my spot and made camp. Aside from the campground manager and one other occupied RV spot, I had this end of the campground to myself.

The peacefulness was profound. And hot. I got a later start to my mountain bike ride than I had intended, after 11AM by the time I was geared up and ready to roll to Thunder Mountain Trail. It was already 82 degrees. My Camelbak was full, so hydration wasn’t a concern, but from my research I knew to expect very little shade. My Garmin indicated 7,700 feet of elevation so I also expected some aerobic suffering, which was handily fulfilled. But in exchange, the terrain was mesmerizing. Bright rust-colored hoodoo formations surrounded me like sentries, guarding access to the route ahead. Occasional gatherings of high-desert pines whispered unintelligibly in my ear while offering a moment’s respite from the sun. The ride absolutely purged my legs and lungs while also filling me with a deep appreciation for nature’s beauty.

By the time I slogged my way back up the merciless 3-mile paved trail to the campground with my noodle-legs, the temps had risen deep into the 90s. Fortunately, my campsite had a wide swath of shade that made its way across the grounds with the sun’s arc, so I followed it with my camp chair, some nibbles, and a 5-gallon jug of water. Reading the afternoon away – a book of the best short stories of 2023, which I believe means weirdest – my noodle legs waned while my hunger flourished. I put some water on to boil and then contemplated my half-dozen dehydrated meal options. Kung Pao Chicken won my affection. After pouring in the boiling water, stirring, waiting, stirring, waiting… I finally emptied the pouch into my classic speckled-blue Coleman camp bowl, plopped two halves of a perfectly ripened avocado on top, and then moaned with satisfaction as I shoveled the delicious vittles into my gullet with a matching speckled-blue camp fork. Yum! No question, camping brings out next-level hunger, and this meal was up to the challenge. By 8:00 PM the skies were still free of smoke, but the temp remained in the 90s and I was exhausted. So, after a little personal hygiene, I climbed into my rooftop tent, unzipped all the windows to encourage a discouraged breeze, then turned my USB chargeable fan to max. Lying on top of my bedding, I slammed directly into deep sleep, bypassing all other stages. When I awoke for the first time, the sun was down and there was a chill in the air, so I zipped up my insulated windows and slid under the sheet and blanket. Sleep came quickly again. On my second awakening I was reminded of the altitude as my teeth chattered. From the netting above me I pulled out my long underwear and another blanket and dawned them both. This time my chilled feet kept sleep from coming at all.

At first light, I was frozen. I had planned to make coffee with my camping coffee press but was too cold, so I packed up – which generated a morsel of body heat – and broke camp. Note to self: Need more warmth options at altitude. Driving back through Panguitch with my seat heaters on full, then north on US-89, I realized just how fortunate I had been. The wildfire had grown immensely since the day before but had not gotten any closer to where I was. The favorable winds also kept the smoke away from Red Canyon and my best laid plans. There was no way to predict the impact the wildfire smoke would have, so all the paramount planning in the world would have meant nothing without some luck, but planning did keep me out of harms way with a substantial buffer between my location and the wildfire itself. And in the end, I did secure that quintessential camp spot but leaned much more heavily on the witchcraft part.

Author

David Gonzalez is a tech veteran with 30+ years of experience applying his physics, computer science, and business prowess to helping early-stage companies innovate and accelerate across numerous industries including handwriting and voice recognition, mortgages, renewable energy, storm water management and mental health.

Intermingled amongst these professional endeavors, David is also a family man. While devoted to his wife of 30+ years and his three uniquely insightful and grown children, he remains an avid athlete, favoring soccer, cycling, skiing, tennis, hiking and any opportunity to get the family into the wild.

David’s ideal evening? That’d be sitting around a campfire with his family, eating from rehydrated food pouches and regaling each other with tales of greatness from the day.

Donate to Those Affected by the 2025 California Wildfires

Across California, wildfires have burned thousands of acres, destroying homes and businesses and forcing thousands to evacuate. You can support those affected by donating to the verified fundraisers on this page. Our Trust & Safety team will continue to update this page with more fundraisers as they are verified.

Donate to California wildfire relief today.

Want to be featured in one of our stories?

We are always interested in hearing from our community. If you have any pictures, videos, or stories from your adventures, please share them with us and we may feature you in an upcoming post!

Camping During Wildfire Season

Author

Talk to us