Sleeping in a Tent Is Just Napping with Obstacles
A love letter to camping sleep disasters and the gear that tried.
Let’s go ahead and say the quiet part out loud:
Tent sleep is a scam.
You’ve seen the pictures. That couple, tangled up in a sleeping bag under the stars, looking like they just woke up from a Swedish spa nap. She’s glowing. He’s smiling. There’s fairy lights.
Lies. All of it.
Let me tell you what tent sleep actually looks like—especially in midlife, with joints that like to voice their opinions at 2 a.m.
Cot Catastrophe
There was the time my ex insisted we were leveling up by bringing cots. You know, for comfort. In theory, this should’ve been better than sleeping on the ground. In practice, it was like lying on a slab of punishment. Narrow, stiff, and utterly inflexible—kind of like the camping version of a bad marriage.
There was no room to turn over. You were either on your back, staring at the tent ceiling contemplating your life choices, or you were at risk of falling off every time you tried to shift your weight. I think concrete would’ve had more give.
Tent Wall = Waterfall
Another time, we got too casual with gear placement and shoved everything against the tent walls. Rookie mistake. (Yes, still.) Then it rained. Which meant everything touching the walls became a sponge.
Sleeping bag? Wet. Clothes? Damp. Morale? Drenched.
This is how you learn the hard way that tent walls are not barriers unless you respect their boundaries. Otherwise, they’re invitations for water to ruin your stuff.
Air Mattress Mayhem
And of course, no tent tale is complete without the classic air mattress betrayal. They always sound like a good idea until someone gets up in the middle of the night to pee. Suddenly, the other person is clinging to the center crater like it’s the edge of the Grand Canyon.
Bonus fun: the slow overnight leak. You go to bed with cushiony bliss and wake up on the cold, crinkly tent floor with your hip bone screaming for a chiropractor.
Nature: Surprisingly Loud and In Your Face
Also, can we talk about how loud nature is?
Birds don’t gently chirp, they scream. Bugs buzz. Wind howls. And raccoons apparently practice WWE moves at 3 a.m. outside your tent. Add in a sunrise that turns your tent into a glowing orb by 6 a.m., and yeah…earplugs are not optional. Eye masks are pointless. Just embrace the weird schedule. You’ll probably end up going to bed earlier and waking up with the sun like some kind of reluctant druid.
So What’s the Point?
Here’s the thing: it’s okay to admit that tent sleeping is often not great. It doesn’t mean you’re bad at camping or too high-maintenance. It means you’re human. Possibly over 40. And in possession of a spine.
You can still love camping without pretending you slept like a baby. (Babies don’t sleep either, by the way.)
So pack the extra pad. Bring the ridiculous-looking pillow. Embrace the bedtime awkwardness. And if you wake up five times to fight with your sleeping bag zipper or pee behind a tree? Congratulations. You’re doing it right.
Tent Sleeping Tips (That Won’t Fix Everything, But Might Help)
Upgrade Your Sleeping Pad
Skip the thin foam pad unless you like feeling every root and rock. Go for an inflatable pad with insulation or double up with a foam base layer for extra cushion and warmth.
If You Must Use an Air Mattress…
Add a layer between you and the plastic—like a blanket or yoga mat—to cut the cold and squeak factor. And remember: one midnight bathroom trip = both of you deflating. Plan accordingly.
Keep Gear Away from Tent Walls
Even the “waterproof” tents love to turn traitor in a good rain. Keep bags, boots, and clothes a few inches in from the sides to avoid soggy surprises.
Measure Your Cot (and Your Tent)
Cots sound luxurious until you realize you have zero wiggle room and need a 10-point turn to shift positions. Make sure your cot fits with room to breathe, and room for you to turn over.
Mind the Microclimate
Tents can feel like saunas at dusk and iceboxes by 3 a.m. Dress in layers, avoid cotton, and wear socks to bed. Crack a vent if condensation builds up. No one likes a damp sleeping bag.
Bring Earplugs
Nature is not quiet. Birds, bugs, wind, raccoons fighting over a granola wrapper—it’s a full symphony. Pack earplugs and thank yourself at 6 a.m. when the local woodpecker clocks in for his shift.
Accept the Light Show
Blocking out the sunrise in a tent? Futile. Most tents glow like lanterns at dawn. On the plus side, you’ll start going to bed earlier and might accidentally become a morning person. (Or at least a person who grumbles less before coffee.)
Adjust Your Expectations
You won’t sleep like a log. You might sleep like a pretzel. But that’s okay. Camping sleep is weird, but it’s part of the story. Bonus points if you don’t wake up with mosquitos everywhere because you didn’t fully close the “door” after your midnight pee excursion.
What’s your tent sleep horror story? Or your go-to hack that actually works?
Drop it in the comments. I want to hear all the awkward, uncomfortable, and unexpectedly cozy details.