Vegan Camping: Be(an) Prepared

Last Saturday, David and I went camping at Jalama Beach near the random little town of Lompoc. It was the second time I’d been camping as a vegan; the first time was with my sister Katie last summer, and it involved a long, precarious, uphill drive and a plan to avoid getting eaten by bears. (Bears are not vegan.)

I discovered to my delight that there are no bears at Jalama Beach. There is a lot of wind at night, which is arguably about as dangerous as bears, especially when your tent has no stakes holding it down. Ahem.

There is also a little store right near the campsite that doubles as a restaurant. David, whose appetite would eat my appetite for breakfast, bought a hamburger to eat as an appetizer to the vegan dinner I had brought. I was slightly annoyed at his lack of faith in my vegan dinner, but I didn’t complain because I wanted to eat his French fries.

After a rousing game of Rummy 500, we got to work on dinner. I had not planned the specifics of the meal; rather, I had just thrown ingredients that seemed like they might go well together into a tote bag. I had already-cooked, tri-color quinoa leftover from the night before, a few fresh tomatoes and a Hass avocado from the farmer’s market, a can of organic black beans from Trader Joe’s, and Daiya vegan cheddar cheese:

The only meal option I could envision was to toss them all in a pot together. Obviously, we started with the canned beans, which were already cooked. Our campsite had a little fire pit, so it was easy enough to heat up the beans in a pot. Then we stirred in about a cup of Daiya cheddar cheese, which melted immediately, and the tomatoes, which we had chopped into small chunks.

Finally, we poured the bean mixture over the quinoa and arranged the avocado slices on top. It looked… well, it looked like something I had thrown together at a campsite:

I decided to call this concoction “Fancy Beans,” since it was obviously a fancier version of the boring omnivore camping staple of beans and… hot dogs? Pork? What do omnivores put in beans when they camp? Something less fancy than tri-colored quinoa, I’m sure.

I decided not to share the name “Fancy Beans” with David, who is much too cool for silly food names. You know what else I decided not to share with David? My misery at being kept awake by stomach cramping and gas while he snored peacefully in his sleeping bag beside me. There I was, awkwardly alternating between child’s pose and happy baby pose (difficult to do inside a sleeping bag), cursing myself for believing I could eat half a can of beans with no consequences. What hubris!

My insomnia wasn’t helped by the gusts of wind that threatened to blow our tent over every few minutes or by the rowdy, pot-smoking thirty-somethings having a reunion at the neighboring campsite. I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I dreamed I saw the sunrise over the ocean. I only realized it was a dream when David reminded me that the sun does not rise over the ocean on the west coast.

In conclusion, I have to ask: why do people eat beans when they camp? The world may never know. But here’s what I do know: the next time I feel compelled to go camping, I’m bringing some coconut oil and anise seeds and I’m making myself a Libido Burrito. Lesson learned.

Don't Feed the Non-Vegan Bears

Camping is one of those activities during which it's not awkward or socially alienating to be vegan. Most people who like camping also like the environment, so there is probably a higher percentage of vegans among that population. And Clif bars, oatmeal, fruit, trail mix (the kind without M&Ms)... all vegan. So when my sister suggested a spontaneous camping trip to Sequoia National Park, it wasn't the cuisine I was worried about.

It was the bears! I had to assume that bears don't discriminate between vegans and omnivores when it comes to a snack. So I could only hope that any bears I ran into would themselves be vegan.

Sequoia National Park is about a four-hour drive from Santa Barbara, and that's if you don't stop at every fruit stand you see on the side of the road. After losing considerable time but gaining an assortment of fruits (including a gigantic box of oranges for only $3.50), we arrived at the Foothills Ranger Station.

Tim the Ranger told us that all the nearest campsites were full, but that we'd probably have luck if we headed up the "pretty wicked" road to Mineral King. We took his advice, but soon discovered that "pretty wicked" was an understatement. The Witch of the West is pretty wicked. This road was straight-up evil.

It wrapped up the mountain to an altitude of 6540 feet, and most of it was one-lane wide. Of course there was no guardrail and sections of it were unpaved. Every now and then, another car coming down in the opposite direction would appear suddenly from around a bend, causing me to simultaneously slam on the brakes, shout expletives, and have a minor heart attack.

Panicky and sweaty, somewhere around the third heart attack

When we finally arrived at Atwell Mill camping area, we had aged about thirty years and we were hungry. While Katie ran about collecting firewood, I chopped up the vegetables we had brought for dinner: green bell peppers, white onions, and sweet potatoes. We had also brought two apple sage Field Roast vegan sausages as part of the ongoing effort to clean out my fridge before I move.

I drizzled olive oil and sprinkled salt over the veggies and sausage, then wrapped them up in aluminum foil packages. Our fire pit had a grate, so we could just lay the packets on top of that.

After putting the packets of food on the fire, we discovered two obstacles to our meal. First, we had no way of knowing how quickly the food would cook. We would just have to guess. Second, we had nothing with which to remove the food packets from the fire. Neither of us had thought to bring a spatula-like tool, and our first idea - reaching into the fire with our hands wrapped in a sweatshirt - proved likely to result in charred sweatshirt-flavored food. We would just have to use sticks.

The onions cooked incredibly quickly, so we ended up eating them a bit burnt. The sausage situation was even worse. There were only a few good bites. But the sweet potatoes were perfect!

We learned from our mistakes, and the second night we put the sweet potatoes on the fire first, then added the onion packets later. We even got fancy and made spaghetti to go with the veggies.

I'm usually pretty dismal at following directions when it comes to food (I always forget to read "shake well"), but Katie and I successfully followed the directions posted at our campsite: store all food in bear-safe lockers.

By following those directions, we were able to sleep soundly, enjoy a beautiful 7.5-mile hike to (the, unfortunately, aptly named) Mosquito Lake, and play an unending game of Rummy 500 by the fire without getting mauled by a non-vegan bear.