No Electricity? No Water? No Problem.

We bring every piece of gear and set up the whole camp before you get there, either on a landowner’s land or on a site at one of the campgrounds we work with. If you’ve ever wondered whether camping with no electricity and no water can actually be comfortable, my answer to that started a long way from here, on top of a bunker in Poland.

When I was stationed in Germany in the Army, we would regularly go on long field exercises, everything from the back 20 to Grafenwöhr, but the exercises to Poland were usually the longest. We were forward deployed, out ahead of everybody, setting up tactical communications for a command that was hours away from us. That meant getting creative with whatever we had and wherever we were.

It did, however, prepare me for Iraq. And at the same time, it prepared me for Campfire Concierge.

The bunker

There was one time in Poland where we were on an old military base with bunkers that were built to hide aircraft. Basically airplane hangars with grass on and around them. The only place we could get our antenna high enough to reach the node center was on top of one.

We set up our own camp down below, under camo, so we could sleep and work our rotations. Being forward operators meant we were out there alone, without the rest of the command and without any supporting resources.

That’s where I learned how to make the things I needed to be comfortable. A glow stick in a bottle of water. A patio lounge made out of old wall lockers, with old oil cans for tiki torches.

It’s also where I had some of the best times I can remember, from dominating at spades to trading the locals a multi-tool for some good home cooked food. Or beer.

Where this company came from

That’s probably the unknowing genesis of Campfire Concierge. Set up where I can, no matter what, and make it as comfortable as possible until it’s time to go back home.

I learned to adapt, to think creatively, and to never accept the circumstance as the limitation. Instead, make the circumstance part of the comfort, or the fun, or whatever.

What you actually get

Which is why I can go to land I have never seen with nothing and set up a camp where a family I’ve never met makes memories. The landowner brings the land. We bring everything else, set it all up, and take it back down after everybody goes home.

So here’s the part that’s about your trip instead of my history. A local concierge who lives where you’re camping pitches the tent, makes the beds, stocks the kitchen and sets the camp, and you aren’t there for any of it. Pick the safari tent and there’s a real bed, a full kitchen and its own attached bathroom with a hot shower, standing and staged before you pull in. Pick camping and we bring and pitch the whole thing, a proper tent, sleeping kit, camp kitchen, table and chairs. Either way you’re not the one hauling wall lockers.

Summit and Sage outside Durango is the version with no power line running to it. Solar with a propane backup, a composting toilet, a full shower. Every partner property gets looked at for what it actually has, and the listing says so before you book, so there’s nothing left for you to find out at 9pm in the dark.

Plenty of people would rather have real bathrooms, showers and hookups, and that’s a good way to camp too. So the campgrounds we work with already have all of that, and we bring the same camping or glamping setup to a site on their property. The gear is ours, the ground is theirs, and they keep 100% of what you pay for the site, since what we charge sits on top of it instead of coming out of theirs.

It’s also why I refuse to think that the only way to do something is the way everyone always has.

No electricity? No water? No cell service? No problem. I’m used to this and I’m good at it.

Come and see! Bring a deck of cards.