DRAFT — Dave's still fixing the details on this one.
Field Notes · How-to

Reading your camp page

Dave Lalande · American Adventurer

A camp page isn't a brochure — it's a set of instruments, and each one is honest about one narrow thing and quiet about the rest. Read them that way and they'll serve you; read them as promises and they'll let you down. Here's what all six actually tell you, and — more to the point — exactly where each one stops.

The autonomy card is your clock, not your whole rig

The card up top answers one question: how many days can you live here before something sends you to town. Set your rig once in the rig tool and it runs your numbers; until you do, it shows a sample rig — roughly 4 to 7 days — so read that default as an example, not your camp. It counts five things and only five: drinking water, grey (used) water, the toilet tank, propane, and food. It shows a range, not a hard number, because tank math is an estimate. And it leaves three big things out on purpose, because it can't estimate them honestly: your battery, your fuel, and whether you can even drive back out. Two more honest edges — it never quietly raises your water use for desert heat or thin air (that's yours to set in the rig tool), and the only thing elevation touches is propane — and only if you run a furnace, and either you've marked cold nights or the camp sits around 8,000 feet or higher. It also stops counting at about two weeks: that's a common dispersed-camping habit, not your unit's written stay limit, and on a developed or fee page it's especially not the office's rule. When the ground disagrees with the number, believe the ground.

The services radar shows the nearest of each need, as the crow flies

The dial under "Everything you need" plots the single closest of each kind of resupply within a 60-mile straight-line circle of camp — one dot per need, not the whole map. The colors aren't decoration; they're how much a resupply really costs you. Water is always blue, because it's the resource that sends you in, not a distance. A stop inside about 30 miles reads green — a day's reach — 30 to 45 turns amber, and past 45 goes red. But every one of those miles is straight-line, with an approximate bearing, so real roads run longer: a green dot can still be an hour of dirt. The map says so on its own face.

A blank on the radar is a blind spot, not proof

Two different kinds of empty, and they don't mean the same thing. If a category reads "Not within 60 mi," we mined that region and nothing of that kind sits inside the circle — plan that one before you head up. If the whole services panel says the data covers the states we've mined and not this camp's region yet, then it isn't mapped here at all. Neither one means "wilderness, nothing around." It's OpenStreetMap data: a need with no dot is unmapped nearby, not confirmed absent. Don't read a quiet map as an empty landscape.

THE ONE RUN is a shopping list, not a routed loop

When at least two of the five core resupply types — water, a dump station, propane, fuel, and groceries — fall within reach, the page stacks them into "THE ONE RUN": the town trip that resets the clock. Read it for what it is. It's ordered nearest-first by straight-line distance — it is not a routed loop, it doesn't know which of your tanks runs out first, and its "good for another 4 to 7 days" sign-off is that same sample rig, not your clock. Think of it as a distance-sorted shopping list of the five things a town run is for. The page says as much in its own footer, and the town-run note has the honest, un-sugared version.

The field card is a place stamp on a sample stay — screenshot it early

Down the page is a shareable "field card": the camp's coordinates, its free-or-fee label, and the straight-line miles to each core need, stamped with the date. That part is a stamp of the place — good to screenshot and send to whoever's expecting you. But its "your stay ~4–7 d · drinking water sends you in first" line is the sample rig again; the field card does not recompute for your rig the way the autonomy card above it does. So if you want your real numbers, screenshot the autonomy card too — after you've set your rig — and do it before the pavement ends. The camp page is static and keeps working with no signal once it's loaded, but the weather strip is live and won't load without a connection, and nothing on the page can call for help. Load it, screenshot it, then treat your phone as a map, not a lifeline.

Read the weather strip and the badges for what they claim, not what you want

The weather strip is a real forecast, but it's the broad area forecast — not your exact pin, not corrected for your elevation, and not a road-status feed. The badges are just as narrow. "Free to camp," "Fee or permit required," or "Fees or permits likely" is what our data says about cost — not a permit in your hand — and a "developed campground" tag flags an established site, which often carries its own fee. A "★ Recommended" tag is a pick, not "verified on the ground." Most camps sit at a "likely" confidence, and the full ladder — verified, likely, stale, unknown — is laid out on How we grade. What no badge can show you: the road surface, the last mile in, whether your carrier has a bar out there, the fire situation today, or whether that water is actually flowing — which is exactly why each page carries its own "what we don't know" list. Before you commit, check the managing unit's own page and its travel map.

Every instrument on the page is decision support, not navigation, and none of it is a guarantee. Read each one for the narrow thing it's honest about, screenshot the stamps before the signal dies, and confirm the road, the rules, and the water with the agency and your own eyes before you turn off the pavement.