The Supply Tent

3 picks · The most useful hat at camp is probably the ball cap already in your car — so bring it, and wear it even under the trees, where you'd swear you don't need one. A tree canopy isn't sunscreen; sun slips through the gaps, and a brim keeps it off your head along with sap, dropped needles, bird droppings, and whatever's crawling around up there. Beyond that, a couple more earn a spot in the bag: one for real sun, and a beanie for sleeping warm — with an alpaca upgrade for anyone who really feels the cold. And cover your ears — sunburned ear-tips by day and cold ears at 3 a.m. are two regrets you only need to learn once.

2 picks · A folding shovel and a long poker-and-tongs set are the two things we keep at every fire ring. The shovel's number-one job is putting the fire dead out — spreading the coals, mixing in dirt, and stirring it cold without dumping all your water — and the tongs are how you pull foil packets, corn, and foil desserts out of the coals without scorching your hands. After that the shovel keeps earning its keep digging catholes, leveling tent spots, and scooping ash.

2 picks · Here's the rare camp item that's an activity and a dessert at the same time. You put cream, sugar, and vanilla in one end of the ball and ice and rock salt in the other, then the kids shake it, roll it, and pass it around for about twenty minutes — and that "playing" is what churns it into a pint of real homemade ice cream. No electricity, no crank, no cord. It wears the kids out and ends in ice cream, which is about the best thing an activity can do.

2 picks · A flat-top griddle is the single best upgrade for camp breakfast — pancakes, eggs, and bacon all going at once, plus smashburgers and quesadillas the rest of the day. There are really two ways to get one at a campsite, and they're genuinely different choices: a self-contained propane griddle that brings its own burner, or a heavy carbon-steel plate you set right over the fire (or a grill, or your stove) with no fuel of its own. Here's both, and how to pick between them.

2 picks · Beyond the campfire itself, there are two ways to round out the camp kitchen: a grill for burgers and dogs, and a two-burner stove for everything that happens in a pot — coffee, boiling water, soup. Most families need the stove first (you always end up boiling water) and add a grill for the flame-cooking they love. Want a flat-top for pancakes and eggs instead? That's its own thing — see our [camping griddle guide](/gear/camping-griddle). One honest warning before the picks, because nobody mentions it: the real question with either of these is propane, and getting it right is what keeps you portable instead of tethered to your backyard. I own both of these.

1 picks · Everything our family cooks at a campsite comes off a few pieces of iron — but the one that does the most work, by a mile, is the Dutch oven. It bakes, braises, fries, simmers, and roasts off a single surface: chili, biscuits, cornbread, cobbler, a whole roast, all over the same bed of coals. It takes open-flame heat that would warp lighter cookware and lasts long enough to hand down to your kids. If you buy one piece of camp cookware and learn it, make it this. Here's how to choose one, how to actually cook in it, and the handful of other pieces that round out the kit.

3 picks · A pie iron — you might know it as a mountain pie or pudgy pie maker — is two cast-iron plates on long handles that toast a sealed sandwich or pie right over the fire. Here's why it might be the most fun thing in your camp box: the kids make their own dinner. They pick the fillings, they work the fire (with a hand), and they're weirdly proud of the slightly-burnt sandwich they made themselves. It's cheap, nearly indestructible, and it covers breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert with the same tool.

1 picks · If the pie iron is the most fun tool at camp, this is its cousin. A campfire popcorn popper is a long-handled pan with a lid that you hold over the coals and shake while the kernels pop — popcorn made over an open fire, which somehow tastes better and is at least half the fun to make. It's the perfect snack for a movie-under-the-stars night, a round of campfire games, or just because the fire's going and somebody's hungry.

5 picks · Ask the internet how to make coffee at camp and you'll get a hundred gadgets and one lazy answer (instant). Here's the honest version: there are a handful of ways that actually work, each with a real tradeoff, and the right one comes down to your crowd and how fussy you're willing to be. We'll walk them — and then tell you the one thing that matters more than any of them.

1 picks · Bringing water seems like the simplest thing to sort out — until you're hauling a 40-pound jug across a campground. Here's the part nobody prints on the box: water weighs more than eight pounds a gallon, so that giant container you're eyeing is a genuine two-arm struggle once it's full. The trick isn't the biggest jug. It's the right-sized one — and knowing most campgrounds have a tap you can refill at.

2 picks · Here's the honest truth most camping-table pages won't tell you: you might not need one. Most established campsites come with a picnic table, and for a weekend that's often plenty. A separate folding table is a nice upgrade — a clean prep surface for cooking that isn't the rained-on, bird-stained picnic table, a spot for the stove, somewhere to set things down — but it's a convenience, not a requirement, no matter how many people search for one. If you do want one, here are two we'd point you to. And if you're getting serious enough to camp a full week at a stretch, a proper camp kitchen makes more sense than a bare table — more on that below.

2 picks · Before you buy anything: if you have a cooler at home, that's your cooler — just make sure it has wheels, because a full one is a back-breaker to haul from the car to the site. And ignore the ice-retention numbers on the box. "Keeps ice 5 days" assumes you never open the lid, which you will, constantly, all weekend. Whatever number it claims, cut it in half and plan to grab a bag or two of ice along the way. With that out of the way — if you do want one, here are two worth it.

2 picks · The two questions that actually matter for camp lighting are how bright and how portable — and the honest answer is you want a bit of both, which is why these two cover it between them. Both are rechargeable, because hunting for fresh batteries in the dark is exactly the kind of thing camping shouldn't make you do. One throws enough light to run the whole campsite or a big tent; the other clips and hangs anywhere and doubles as a power bank for your phone. (For getting around in the dark on your own, that's a [headlamp](/gear/camping-headlamp) — a different job.)

1 picks · Headlamp search traffic is thin — but thin traffic doesn't mean you don't need one. Here's the moment that sells it: it's the middle of the night, you have to walk to the bathroom, and you really don't want to do that half-asleep and one-handed with a phone flashlight. A headlamp is hands-free personal light, and once everyone in the family has their own, you'll wonder how you camped without them. Here's the pair we'd point you to.

3 picks · Search "camping generator" and you picture a gas engine droning all night. Here's the thing: most campgrounds have quiet hours, and plenty ban loud generators outright — and for a family tent trip, you're mostly charging phones, running a few lights, maybe a fan or a CPAP. You rarely need a roaring gas generator. You need quiet power. Here are the three ways to get it, and most families are happiest somewhere in the middle.

2 picks · A rocking chair at camp sounds like a novelty until the first evening by the fire, when it turns out to be the one seat nobody will give up. A good camp rocker folds flat like any other chair but rocks on spring-loaded steel feet, so you get the porch-rocker feeling on grass and dirt. If relaxing is the point of your trip, this is the chair to own — here's how they work, what to look for, and the one we'd buy.

2 picks · A camp chair is where you actually live at the campsite — morning coffee, dinner, the long evening by the fire. So this is not the place for the twelve-dollar stadium chair off the endcap; that's a parade-and-fireworks chair, and your back will know the difference by hour two. If you'd rather not buy anything, bring the folding chairs from your kitchen or patio — that's a perfectly good free option. But if you are buying, buy a chair you can sink into for hours, or honestly fall asleep in. These two clear that bar, and I own both.

2 picks · If you've ever eaten dinner at a campsite with one hand while swatting mosquitoes with the other, a screen tent is the fix. It's a freestanding, mesh-walled shelter you set over your picnic table — all the breeze and shade, none of the bugs. Not every trip needs one. But on a buggy summer evening, it's the difference between lingering outside after dark and retreating to the tent the second the sun drops.

3 picks · A tarp is the most useful ten dollars you'll spend on camping, and the piece first-timers most often skip. It does two completely different jobs — a roof over your living area when it rains or bakes, and a barrier under your tent — and once you've camped with one, you won't go back to going without.

3 picks · Open any camping gear list and it'll shove a mummy bag at you. And it's not wrong — for a backpacker counting ounces or a Scout heading out into a cold night, the mummy's snug, hooded shape is genuinely warmer and packs down smaller. There's a good reason people push them. Just not this reason. For a family loading up the car for a first weekend out, a mummy is usually the wrong first bag for a kid: it's tight, plenty of kids hate the cooped-up feeling, and you don't need sub-freezing warmth in July. So two of our three picks are roomy rectangular bags — easy in, easy out, comfortable for a kid who sleeps sideways and kicks. The third is a mummy, on purpose: for the kid who's ready to camp colder, that snug shape is exactly the point. All three are sized for kids, wash in your machine when the s'mores inevitably happen, and come in under $60.

4 picks · A hammock is the easiest way to get a kid hooked on sleeping outside — no poles, no wrestling a tent in the dark, just two trees and about ten minutes. The trouble is the wall of near-identical options online makes a simple thing look complicated. Here's what actually matters, in plain terms, plus the three we'd hand a first-time family: a budget pick, the one we reach for most, and the one you'll keep for years.

3 picks · Here's the honest start: you can bring the pillow off your bed, and it works fine for free. The reasons to buy a real camp pillow are small but real — it packs down instead of eating half the trunk, it has a cover you can actually throw in the wash, and it won't slide off your sleeping pad all night. If those things bug you, here are the three we'd pack: the splurge that sleeps like home, the family 2-pack that's the easy call, and the cheap little one that just does the job.

3 picks · The sleeping bag gets all the attention, but what's under you matters just as much — maybe more. The ground is a heat sink: lie on it and it pulls your warmth straight out all night, and your weight crushes the bag's insulation flat underneath you, so even a good bag leaves you cold without something between you and the dirt. For a kid, that can be the whole trip — a cold first night is how you end up with a child who never wants to camp again. Here are three ways to fix it: the packable pad most families want, a roll-out foam mattress, and a cot for those of us who, frankly, are done sleeping on the floor.

3 picks · The bag matters more than almost anything else you bring, because a cold night is the fastest way to make a kid — or a grown-up — never want to camp again. The good news: for car camping you don't need the expensive stuff. In fact, the bag most people go looking for, a down one, is usually the wrong call — and we'll get to why. These are the three adult bags we'd actually sleep in: the roomy double for couples, the no-fuss one I owned for years, and the down bag for the few who really want it.

3 picks · You don't need a six-hundred-dollar tent to take the family camping. You need one that goes up without a fight and keeps everybody dry when it rains — because it will rain. These are the three we'd actually set up for a first-timer, picked for the three situations families really land in: just the two of you (or a kid who wants their own), a small crew that wants to be camping in a minute, and the whole gang that needs room to spread out. Different sizes, same job — dry, simple, and big enough.