Our summer camping gear is simple—budget backpacking gear with just enough comfort to keep us happy. You can pretty much see it all in the picture!
For winter, we used to swap the tents for two swags. They’re wonderfully warm, but they come with quirks (like not being fully rainproof—more on that later).
I'll share more details in upcoming posts, and some packing lists for anyone curious about how we keep it lightweight, Jimny-friendly, and still somewhat civilised out there.
Update: we’ve decided not to take the swags on the CSR. The two main reasons:
The weight savings are significant, and every kilogram matters in a Jimny.
When I roll our sleeping system into a single bag, the pack-up time isn’t much longer anyway.
The best advice I can give anyone who’s thinking about camping or overlanding is simple: just go.
You can read all the lists, watch all the YouTube reviews, scroll through endless gear setups… but you’ll never really know what works for you until you’re actually out there. And I don’t mean weeks in the outback right away — I mean anything.
A normal car, a picnic blanket, a stove to make tea, and a packet of instant noodles.
Once you’re outside, you’ll discover quickly what you really need, and just as importantly, what you don’t need. Maybe that fancy gadget you saw online is actually unnecessary. Or maybe you’ll realise you’ve been missing something simple, like a better way to boil water or somewhere to store snacks.
And if you plan on travelling with others — whether it’s family, friends, or a convoy — doing a test trip together is gold. You’ll learn how the gear, the vehicles, and yes, the personalities all work together before you commit to a big trip. Better to find out now than five days into a remote journey.
So don’t overthink it. Don’t wait until you have the “perfect” setup. Start small, get out there, and have fun. You’ll come home with a smile, a list of what to tweak, and probably a new appreciation for just how good tea and instant noodles can taste outdoors.
When you’re living out of a tiny 4WD like a Jimny, your camping gear isn’t just about comfort — it’s about weight, bulk, and sanity. The more you carry, the slower you move, the harder it is to pack, and the more it wears you down over weeks on the track.
In Lighten Up, Don Ladigin nails the philosophy: bring what you need, use what you bring, and don’t carry what you don’t use. Sounds simple, but it’s a game-changer once you start applying it.
Here’s how I approach it:
Dual-purpose is gold. If something can do two jobs, it earns its place. My camp table is also my cooking bench. My groundsheet doubles as a shade-cloth.
Test before you trust. Every single item in my kit has been used on a trip before it comes on the CSR. If it hasn’t proven itself, it stays home.
Every extra kilo affects fuel consumption, handling, and stress on the vehicle — and the Jimny’s payload is already tight. Carrying less isn’t about “being tough,” it’s about making the trip safer, faster, and more enjoyable.
If you want a brilliant, short, and often funny read on this, I highly recommend Lighten Up by Don Ladigin. It’s aimed at backpackers, but the principles work just as well for overlanders.
When you’re packing for any long remote trip every kilo counts. But going “ultralight” doesn’t mean giving up comfort or capability. It’s about looking at every single item you carry and asking:
“Is there a lighter option that still does exactly what I need?”
You’d be surprised how much weight you can save without compromising on use.
Here are two simple examples from my own gear:
1. My coffee mug conundrum
I’ve got a Yeti thermos coffee mug that I absolutely love. It keeps coffee hot for 9 hours and is built like a tank. But it weighs 559g.
Then I compared it to a free insulated Nespresso cup I got with some pods. Not as good — it only keeps coffee warm for 2 hours — but it weighs just 258g.
Since I always drink my coffee within 2 hours anyway… I realised the Yeti’s extra insulation was wasted on me. That’s 301g saved before breakfast.
2. The dinner plate dilemma
Two high-quality plastic dinner plates weigh in at 519g.
Two “strong enough” reusable party plates? Just 122g.
They hold my food just fine, they wash up just fine… and they save me nearly 400g.
These are just two examples, but when I went through my entire kitchen kit with the same mindset, I saved over 10kg — in the kitchen alone.
The key is:
Don’t compromise on function — if the lighter option doesn’t work for your needs, don’t switch.
Question the “just in case” gear — a lot of weight hides in rarely used items.
Small changes add up — saving 300g here and 400g there adds up fast.
Every kilo you save is one less your suspension has to carry, one less litre of fuel you burn, and one more snack you can fit in the back.
Over the years I’ve realised there’s a fine line between “roughing it” and actually enjoying yourself outdoors. The trick? Be honest with yourself about what makes the difference between survival and comfort. But remember; those things are different for everyone.
For example, in our little team of two:
Cold hands and feet ruin me. Gloves and wool socks always make the cut.
My son? He just needs an extra sweater and he’s fine, but he needs a soft toy.
Sleeping setups? He can happily crash on bare rocks, while I need a self-inflating mattress and a pillow if I want any chance of sleep.
Food rituals: I won’t start my day without coffee. He’s perfectly happy with beef jerky and bacon.
None of these are extravagant. They’re just the few things that flip a trip from “endurance test” to “good memories.”
The lesson? Pack the comfort items that matter to you — but only those. Forget the Instagram-inspired “must haves” and focus on what really keeps you (and your crew) happy in the bush.
That balance is what makes camping something you want to keep doing, instead of something you’re glad to have survived.
Coffee is one of those small luxuries that makes a huge difference when you’re out bush. For me, it’s black coffee, simple and strong — but over the years I’ve tried just about every way of making it on the road.
The French press works well, and it does make a solid brew. The catch is cleaning it afterwards: grounds, hot water, rinsing — all good when water is plentiful, but not so much when every litre counts.
That’s where coffee bags came in. They’re basically tea bags filled with ground coffee. Drop one in the mug, pour hot water, wait a bit, done. They’re light, easy, and the cleanup is throwing away a bag.
But then my wife came home from the Korean shop with something new: drip bags. And honestly — they’re the best camping coffee I’ve had so far. You tear open the little sachet, hang the paper filter over your mug, pour in hot water, and let it drip through. Tastes fresh, clean, and way better than I expected.
The links I’ve included are for similar items you can find on Amazon. The ones in the picture are what my wife buys — no idea what the writing says, but I know they taste great. There are also empty drip bag versions if you want to bring your own beans.
On our last (long weekend) trip, I upgraded our tent to a very similar hiking-style model, but with one huge improvement: the poles are on the outside of the rainfly. That means you can pitch the tent while it’s raining and the inner tent stays bone dry.
It’s also what I’d call semi-free-standing. In other words, you can set it up without pegs as long as it’s not blowing a gale — perfect for quick overnighters or rocky ground where pegs are a pain.
I also swapped the groundsheet for a shade-cloth style mat. It still keeps dirt away from the tent entrance, but because it lets water drain through, there’s no puddling. Trust me — nothing ruins a morning faster than unzipping the tent after a night of icy rain, stepping out bleary-eyed… and straight into a freezing cold footbath. Don’t ask me how I know.
Not every piece of gear needs to be shiny, expensive, or branded with “adventure” in bold letters. Sometimes, it’s the humble stuff from the supermarket aisle that makes life on the road smoother. For us, that’s zip lock bags.
Daily Bacon Packs
We buy bacon in bulk and repack it into daily portions. Not only does this keep it fresher and easier to use, it also cuts down dramatically on waste packaging.
Snack Rations
Long trips are dangerous for snack discipline. Instead of munching through the “fun food” in the first few days, we portion snacks into daily zip lock bags. That way, we always have a little treat left, even on day 21.
Mini Garbage Bags
The larger bags double as rubbish control. One bag for burnables, one for everything else. Squeeze the air out, seal it up, and suddenly you have compact, smell-free garbage that packs down neatly until you find a proper bin.
They’re cheap, lightweight and to a degree reusable.
We’ll be carrying two jerry cans of drinking water (40 litres total) as our core supply. We’ll top them up again when we refuel near Well 33 (Kunawarritji) — which also happens to feature the CSR’s most luxurious amenity: a shower. Yes, for a small fee, you can stand under actual running water and briefly remember what civilisation feels like.
We’ll also have two 2L bottles in rotation to keep things chilly. One lives in the console fridge-turned-freezer, slowly becoming an ice brick. The other chills in the esky, keeping food cool until it’s swapped for its frosty twin. These two and one extra 4L bottle are our “break-glass-in-case-of-emergency” water.
Around one-third of the wells along the route have water good enough for washing. But for most “bush hygiene” jobs, we’ll rely on the overlander’s secret weapon: wet wipes. They’re quick, easy, and don’t require heating a bucket or explaining to the local wildlife why you’re naked in the wind.
When water’s too precious to pour over your head, the humble wet wipe becomes your best friend: one for the face, one for the pits, one for the bits… and suddenly you’re practically ready for dinner with the Queen. Just remember — don’t mix up the order.
- please carry the wet wipes out or burn them, they are not bio degradable -
We’re still bringing a metal bucket and a 12V pump with a showerhead for those days when a proper wash is needed — turning a bucket into a surprisingly good bush shower. Pro tip: the “refreshing” factor increases dramatically as the water temperature drops.
Why a metal bucket? -> Metal bucket + water + campfire = hot shower
As anyone who's spent a night in the desert knows, cold temperatures can be a challenge. To stay warm on our adventures, we've developed a multi-layer sleeping system that works like a charm.
Here's how it works:
Starting from the outside: We use a fleece (no cotton!) sleeping bag liner as the outer layer.
Next, we add a synthetic summer sleeping bag to provide extra warmth without breaking the bank on expensive 'winter' sleeping bags.
For added warmth and comfort, Jasper uses a kids' hiking sleeping bag, while I use a down quilt.
This system has several benefits:
Flexibility: Because it's layered, we can add or remove layers as needed to adjust to changing temperatures.
Reduced condensation: By having separate layers for each component, we minimize the risk of condensation building up and making our sleeping bags uncomfortable or even wet. If condensation does build up, it is mostly in the outer layer only, so a lot easier to dry out in camp.
Overall, this approach has been a game-changer for us. It's not only effective at keeping us warm but also kind on our budget.
We’ve been using a pair of lightweight “hiking” chairs for our trips, and they’ve turned out to be one of those little luxuries that make a big difference. I couldn’t find the exact model we own on Amazon anymore, but something very similar is this chair . They’re light enough to carry around without a second thought, surprisingly comfortable for their size, and they pack down small enough to disappear into the corner of the car or trailer.
Are they as plush as a big camp chair with armrests and cup holders? No. But the trade-off in weight and space makes them perfect for longer trips where every kilo counts. For us, it’s the balance between comfort and practicality.
In short, a good hiking chair won’t turn your campsite into a lounge room, but it’ll save your back (and your sanity) compared to sitting on a log or the ground.
Our camp table is about as simple as they come — basically the non-folding cousin of this one. I couldn’t find it online, but I’ve seen it in stores. We picked it up for just AUD 19, and honestly, it’s been one of the best bargains in our setup. It’s incredibly light and easy to pack — I usually slide it under the weekend bag with all the kitchen gear so it doesn’t rattle around.
Because it doesn’t fold, it’s actually sturdier than a lot of the cheap folding tables we’ve tried before, and it doesn’t have any fiddly bits waiting to break. At camp, it’s the perfect size for holding the stove, plates, or just a couple of mugs of coffee.
Would a bigger, fancier table give you more space? Sure. But this little guy does the job with almost no weight penalty, and for us, that’s the sweet spot. It’s not the centrepiece of camp, but it’s one of those “set and forget” bits of gear that just works every time.
One of the reasons I bought swags for our trips was simple: packing up a tent every single day gets boring fast. Especially when you have to deal with all the bedding separately — it’s just one more job when you’re itching to get on the track.
With the swag, I can roll it up with all the bedding still inside. Job done. No fiddling with sleeping bags, pillows, or folding sheets in the wind. Swags are also noticeably warmer than a tent, which is a big plus when the nights get chilly.
Yes, they’re bulky — but I just tie ours on top of the trailer, so it’s not a problem. Inside, the thicker foam mattress makes a huge difference. You don’t have to hunt for a perfectly smooth campsite; the mattress takes care of little bumps and dips. We even add a thin closed-cell hiking mat on top of the swag’s foam mattress, and that combo is incredibly comfortable and warm.
The Big Problem
The main issue with the swags we bought is a design flaw: the stitching between the groundsheet and the canvas is folded inwards. That means in heavy rain, water creeps into the seam and — you guessed it — drips inside the swag.
Because this is a seam between PVC and canvas, no amount of “seasoning” will fix it. More expensive swags probably don’t have this problem, so it’s something worth checking before you buy.
Verdict
In short — I wouldn’t recommend the swags we got. Sleeping in fear that you’ll wake up in a swimming pool is not my idea of a relaxing night. I went for the cheaper option as an experiment to see if we liked swag camping compared to using a hiking tent. The “good” brands are double the price (or more), and that’s a lot to spend before you even know if swags are your thing.
If you’re thinking about trying swag camping, my advice is: borrow one first, or invest in a model that’s known to keep the weather out. Because dry, warm, and easy is the whole point.