Here's my take on camping, from a post/ride report on my motoblog last summer (BTW it was written before I sold my F800GS for my '13 Tenere earlier this year):
"Let me just start by saying that I’ve got nothing against the TAT, Arctic Circle runs, the Baja 1000, butane stoves, TKCs, turkey jerky, muddy chains, or pup tents.
I dream of that stuff.
But I live in reality, and I’m a middle-aged New England dad with middle- (and high-) school kids, the typical midsection spread, middling riding skills, the middle GS, and an ultra rare mid-week pass to evaporate for two days (thanks, Liebe) to find my inner Long Way Around. Even if it was just a short loop up into Vermont.
And while I wanted my ride to give a stiff middle finger to domestic tranquility and workaday routine for two days (SUBJECT: Eff off, email…send!), I also wanted to sleep in a goddamned nice bed. With high-BTU air conditioning. In a cush place. With scalding hot showers and high thread-count sheets and nice hair and body products.
So sue me. Call me an adventure-lounger. Scoff at the incongruity between GPS-enabled dirt-path wandering and DirecTV-enabled channel-surfing.
I got 48 hours. And I’m voting with my ass.
Which means not signing up for self-imposed suffering on a neoprene camp mat with a can of Chunky Sirloin Burger soup. But instead, opting to ride all day and luxuriate all night on a crisp cotton duvet, my other BMW (Bulleit, Motrin, and Walgreen’s-butt-ointment) doing its medicinal magic.
This was to be my ride."
Here's the whole shebang if you're interested...
http://longitudeandgratitude.com/2013/09/07/adventure-rider-not-exactly-roughing-it-1/