If it’s time to “touch grass,” as the people living inside our phones instruct, the San Diego area offers an awe-inspiring range of environments for REI Co-op members and bedroom rotters alike, with options for tent, cabin, and RV camping. Add “sleeping under the stars” to your summer bucket list—here are 10 of the best campsites within an hour of San Diego.

Grab Your Gear

Before deciding to brave the wilderness, be sure you have more than just a six-pack and a bundle of firewood from the grocery store. Camping takes some effort and planning, and we don’t need you pulling a Revenant on government land.

Your personal camping checklist should include items for sleeping, whether that includes a tent, blankets, camping pillows, sleeping bags, or a hammock. Always overestimate how cold it will get at night. 

Food, water, and cooking supplies can make or break your trip. Ensure you have enough for the amount of time you intend to be out, and secure it safely if you’re staying in an area with bears and other bold wildlife. If you plan on hunting or fishing for your dinner, bring an extra can of corned beef hash just in case it isn’t your luckiest day. 

Lamps, lanterns, and flashlights will ease your eyestrain when you make your way from the dying campfire to bed and can save you from a potential injury.

Where to Go Camping in San Diego

Sweetwater Summit Regional Park

With a dual view of the Bonita Golf Course and the Sweetwater Reservoir, this campsite is perched high up, near the red-tailed hawks that circle the nearby summit. The trail on this mountain, affectionately nicknamed Cardiac Hill, offers a switchback inhabited primarily by marathon trainers and local horseback riders. An added bonus is the Klimt-esque blanket of flowers draping the sides of the hills nearby.

Go For: Friendly horses & swooping birds of prey
Time From Downtown San Diego: 20 minutes
Address: 3218 Summit Meadows Road, Bonita
Reserve Your Campsite

Silver Strand State Beach

Panoramic views of San Diego Bay? Yes, please! Coronado, a consistently crowd-pleasing beach, has its prime public campground set on the Strand, giving campers a chance to watch fishing boats and Navy ships pass in the distance. Across the street from the campsites is the marsh within the bay, which also serves as a nature refuge and a great early morning jog for those who need to get a run in. The paved camping spots are an added benefit for those with trailers and RVs—no need to engage that four-wheel drive when parking your rig.

Go For: Ghostly egrets & Top Gun vibes
Time From Downtown San Diego: 20 minutes
Address: 5000 CA-75, Coronado
Reserve Your Campsite

Santee Lakes Recreation Preserve

Our resident supercampground, Santee Lakes hosts hundreds of full hook-up sites, as well as a 190-acre park surrounding the lake. While closer akin to a camp resort, Santee Lakes still offers a fair amount of disconnect from everyday life, as well as privacy from the hundreds of others on the campgrounds with mature trees providing natural barriers and shade for individual spots. The spaciousness also makes it easy to have as many or as few people in your camping party as you please.

Go For: The middle-class-fancy experience
Time From Downtown San Diego: 25 minutes
Address: 9310 Fanita Parkway, Santee
Reserve Your Campsite

San Elijo State Beach

A crowd favorite across North County, this campground sits perched on a bluff overlooking the ocean. Get the real beach bum experience with an early morning surf or a dinner cooked over the fire with a sunset backdrop. It’s no surprise San Elijo is completely booked for months in advance, but plan accordingly.

Go For: A weekend living like Moondoggie
Time From Downtown San Diego: 30 minutes
Address: 2324 South Coast Highway 101, Cardiff
Reserve Your Campsite

South Carlsbad State Beach

The coastline in Carlsbad is already flush with activities, which makes this campground ideal for all your beach trip hobbies. A convenience store is on the grounds, vending often-forgotten items. Prepare to spend a full weekend surfing, swimming, even geocaching (new hobby to add to my list?) not too far out of town.

Go For: Tiring the kids out before bedtime
Time From Downtown San Diego: 35 minutes
Address: 7201 Carlsbad Boulevard, Carlsbad
Reserve Your Campsite

Kumeyaay Lake Campground

Any hiker in San Diego will tell you the best treks are found at Mission Trails, so why not camp there, too? Anyone could get lost on these trails by spending a weekend working towards the park’s Five Peak Challenge (but you actually won’t get lost, since there is still cell service out there). Only Friday and Saturdays are open for overnight camping.

Go For: Leg day, or rather leg weekend
Time From Downtown San Diego: 25 minutes
Address: 2 Father Junipero Serra Trail, Mission Trails
Reserve Your Campsite

Lake Jennings

Fishing in San Diego, while dominated by the pier scene and excursions to Baja, is not limited to just the ocean. A rare find in this neck of the woods, the expansive Lake Jennings is regularly stocked with an abundance of trout and catfish, depending on the season. It makes for a gorgeous chance to have your Walden moment.

Go For: The catch of the day & Hudson River School–level scenery
Time From Downtown San Diego: 35 minutes
Address: 10108 Bass Road, Lakeside
Reserve Your Campsite

Cuyamaca Rancho State Park

To many locals, a trip here may feel like a repeat of an either spectacular or dreadful 6th grade camping experience, depending on how much you were picked on as a child. But you don’t need to worry about someone putting bugs in your bunk this go-around at Cuyamaca Rancho State Park. Take a trip around Lake Cuyamaca and take in the scenery to distract yourself from how much the toilet in your reserved cabin looks like the one you got swirlied in 30 years ago.

Go For: Healing your inner child
Time From Downtown San Diego: 50 minutes
Address: 14592–14674 CA-79, Julian
Reserve Your Campsite

Potrero County Park

Less than 10 miles away from Tecate lies an oak grove nestled at the base of Potrero Peak. This campsite offers more solitude than other parks, with less camper foot traffic. Potrero is meant for relaxing and indulging in a total lack of access to Instagram notifications. Though there are a few hikes available in the area, this campsite is golden for those who are in it to just sit outside and photosynthesize. 

Go For: Monastic peace & ancient trees
Time From Downtown San Diego: 50 minutes
Address: 24800 Potrero Park Drive, Potrero
Reserve Your Campsite

Laguna Campground

This classic camp setup in the Cleveland National Forest is ideal for those who want to break in their new hiking shoes—or at least say they did. Easy access to the Pacific Crest Trail will give you a better reason to say you’re “outdoorsy” on your dating profiles. If you’re not all too committed to hoofing it up some mountains for hours, try scaling just one hill up to the San Diego State University Observatory for one of their Saturday star parties.

Go For: Intensive cardio & the chance to flex your astronomy knowledge
Time From Downtown San Diego: 60 minutes
Address: Los Huecos Road, Mount Laguna
Reserve Your Campsite

The post The 10 Best Campsites Within an Hour of San Diego appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Hiking

Guests pilgrimage to famed health retreat Rancho La Puerta year after year. Three editors attempt to drink the all-natural, locally-sourced, organic Kool-Aid.

Where Deprivation is
De Rigueur

By Erin Meanley

Rancho La Puerta in Tecate, Mexico is a French fry-free property. There is also no red meat, chicken, mayo, ranch dressing, TV, Wi-Fi (except in the lounge), or alcohol. There are no cabana boys or room service. On the first night, we sat in our villa, fireplace roaring, smuggled wine in hand, reading books and staring at each other. At 9 p.m., we went to bed since there was nothing else to do—and because we’d all signed up for a sunrise hike at 5:30 a.m.

Activities were varied, plenty, and hippie-leaning. We meditated. We did water aerobics. We walked a reflexology path. I watched an artist teach “yarn painting.” I breathed fresh air, met roaming cows on a trail, drank gallons of water, and consumed more vegetables and fiber than I care to think about. (One tablemate, a nurse named Ellie, watched us devour slices of dense bread before informing us, “That’ll give you gas.”)

Throughout my stay, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would never be fed again. At the buffets, I cleared small plate after small plate like some kind of vegetarian Michael Phelps. Erin Chambers Smith told me she was giving me the Good Eater Award.

I didn’t stop there. I poured chia seeds, flax seeds, and nutritional yeast onto everything. In just four days, my nails grew to ridiculous lengths. I was Edward Scissorhands slicing the air during Tai Chi.

The fitness was not as challenging as the diet was strict. Ninety percent of the students in one class had never tried Zumba before. In a sculpt and tone class, people were stopping to ask how to orient their step platforms. The classes were relatively low-impact, and just 45 minutes in duration, but the big plus is that it allows you to try a lot of different disciplines.

The first day, I hiked a trail and took four fitness classes. I logged 18,000 steps, according to the pedometer they gave me. Ten thousand per day is the goal—but in an average day at the office I walk a mere 950.

Even though the exercise wasn’t hardcore, it was the most exhausting-relaxing vacation I’ve had. As a result, I slept soundly, which is not the norm for me. I didn’t touch Ambien or ZzzQuil. One ranch employee suggested that people sleep so well there because TV and Internet aren’t keeping them up. People listen more closely to their bodies, and just go to bed when they’re tired. The property’s quiet tranquility doesn’t hurt, either.

There’s much to be said for RLP. We walked between every meal, activity, and lecture. We met friendly people, most of them highly motivated and successful individuals—with Emmy Awards or summer houses to prove it—all reading literary fiction at the pool, open to change and new ways of living. And they weren’t judgy, either. As I wheeled my suitcase out on the final day, Connie from Annapolis called after me, with zero sarcasm, “Enjoy your French fries!”

And I did. They were from In ‘n’ Out. But I’ll tell ya, I kept that pedometer, and I have a newfound respect for vegetarians.

Open Your Mind, Try Something New

By Erin Chambers Smith

It started before I even got to “The Ranch.” I texted my colleagues who were already there that I was coming a day late. I didn’t tell them I was leaving a day early, too. I’ve always been the type to make my own way. I’d heard all about RLP’s health and wellness efforts, but the schedule and rules had me skeptical from the get-go. First, the bans: No alcohol, not even with dinner? No meat? No Wi-Fi?  Then there’s the open-your-mind activities: Cardio-drumming? Uh, not so much for me.

But the thing about RLP is that you really can tailor your stay. And there’s an amazing spa. So if you don’t feel the need to heal your soul one afternoon, or have a conversation with your lower limbs, or re-explore your relationship with God or your mother, you can always take a nap. Or lie by the pool. Or get a pedicure. I opted for all of the latter. I did go to one yoga class, and made a concerted effort. I also put on my joiner hat to take a “What is Feldenkrais?” class, a 15-minute primer before the actual class. I listened to the explanation, but ditched the class. Just not my thing.

I read two books and three magazines in the three days I was there, and I completely broke the rules when it came to food. I snuck in my own wine, beef jerky, and salty pretzels. But not even those rations were enough. The philosophy in the kitchen is valiant. The garden is wildly impressive, and the salads are truly delicious. But three days of greens and granola doesn’t cut it. By the second day, I had figured out a way to save a hard-boiled egg from breakfast, and add it to the handmade tortillas (the size of a small soda lid) at lunch. With salsa and salt, it kind of tasted like a breakfast burrito. On the third day, there was a special event where they served guacamole (made mostly with peas!). I think I ate a half-pound of it.

My renegade ways became a bit of a joke within our group, and I was almost feeling smug about how I’d skirted the program and made my own little spa weekend.

Then I met the resort’s founder, Deborah Szekely, and I felt like an idiot.

We wandered into the weekly fireside chat with Szekely on our last night there. The lights dimmed, the pillows came out, the people gathered in a circle, and I braced for what seemed like another session of spiritual enlightenment. But out from the back hallway walked DS, as regular as any American grandmother. She sat in a chair at the front of the cozy room. She’s one of those people who has a calming aura, so the advice she gives comes across as especially wise. She began by passing around laminated cards with complex diagrams of the human body. One diagram showed all the vessels and nerve systems, and one zoomed-in on the human brain. “Think about how amazing your body is,” she said in her sweet Betty White-like voice. “Look at everything it can do. It makes human beings. It heals itself.” She paused and really let the thought sink in. Szekely, 91, talked about her daily one-hour Pilates workout. If she can do that, I should have tried Feldenkrais. She talked about the chemicals in our food and how little we really consider what goes into our bodies. (Suddenly I wondered how many milligrams of sodium were in that beef jerky tucked in my pocket.) She talked about the importance of quiet time for yourself. Reflection. Daily, she eats breakfast in silence with her dog. She encouraged everyone to take time at the beginning and end of each day to assess their actions and obligations. She also suggested an annual getaway to have a real conversation with yourself about your health and wellbeing. All jokes aside, the discussion was as calming and centering as any yoga class or church service.

Szekely’s not preachy. She’s lived well, and talks and walks what seems like a lovely, peaceful life. I went back to our room for a glass of bootleg wine, but wasn’t so smug anymore. I knew I had missed an opportunity to genuinely try something new, to spend a few days walking in someone else’s shoes.

Slowing Down… for a Minute    

By Kimberly Cunningham

I am a heaping ball of stress. Even as I type these words, my shoulders are tensed, fingers clenched, heart palpitating with the click of every key. This isn’t new news. I come from a long line of worriers. But I became hyper-aware of my condition at the ranch. While my co-workers lounged poolside in their bikinis, flipping through magazines and novels, I lay there fully clothed with my book propped open, dog-eared on the same page it had been for days. I stared aimlessly at the trees, thinking about all the work I’d left behind, wondering if I was having an allergic reaction to all that nature, and feeling completely unable to relax.

Everywhere I looked, people were blissed out—their skin dewy with a post-workout glow. That day at lunch, one of the trainers told us the best gift he’d gotten from the Ranch was meditation. He said it would make us look and feel younger. “Just think of all the money you’ll save on Botox!” he promised. This hooked me. I put down my plate of kale and mushrooms disguised as lasagna, and hiked (at RLP you HIKE!) over to the first meditation class they offered. After much effort to get there, I was slightly disappointed to learn that we were meant to sit in silence for the whole class. Apparently, even the Dalai Lama has a hard time getting into the zone, so it’s no wonder I had a hard time, too. When we were supposed to quiet our minds, I was thinking: This is weird. I need to cough. I need to write that story. I forgot to email so-and-so. I wonder what we’re having for lunch? Dangit!

Feeling defeated, I hiked, with less vigor this time, to another meditation class that involved crystal bowls and chanting. We lay on the floor as a teacher struck the bowls, creating a powerful and supposedly healing sound. Then we sang a song about forgiveness—Kleenex in hand, in case we started to cry. But I didn’t cry. In fact, I felt frustrated that I couldn’t cry, or concentrate, or meditate. And just when I was about to swear off the whole crystal-bowl-chanting thing as ridiculous hippie nonsense, I felt… something. Remember in Eat Pray Love, when writer Elizabeth Gilbert describes being held in the palm of God’s hand? Well, this wasn’t that. I wouldn’t even say I was under the fingernail of God’s hand. But suddenly I was still. And quiet. In that moment, I couldn’t remember a single email that was waiting for me, or anyone I needed to call. The crystal bowls chimed in the distance, and my bones sank into the carpet. When the class was over, I slowly hiked back to my room. What had happened? Did I fall asleep? Did all those vegetables send me into anaphylactic shock? I think it was the beginning stages of meditation.

Our senior editor, Erin Meanley, practices meditation regularly. She uses an app on her iPhone. Sometimes she comes into the office looking really refreshed. On those days I’ll usually notice and compliment her. She only recently told me that those days typically coincide with mornings when she’s meditated for 20 minutes. At RLP, they say if you practice meditation with consistency, it will change your life. And now I’m a believer! I realize more than ever that all this stress is going to put me in an early grave. Here’s to slowing down a little bit and learning to cope with the everyday stresses of life. Shoulders down. Fingers unfurled. Steady heart. Now breathe…

Summer Camp for Adults

The post Summer Camp for Adults appeared first on San Diego Magazine.