The Packing Philosophy
Let's start with the biggest mistake you see new moto-campers make. What's the one thing that ruins most first trips?
Jake: Overpacking. I see it constantly—riders showing up with 80 pounds of gear strapped to a bike that was designed to carry 40. They've got a four-person tent for one person, a full camp kitchen, three changes of clothes. The bike handles like garbage, they're exhausted from wrestling the weight through corners, and they arrive at camp too tired to enjoy it. My rule: if you can't pick up your loaded bike by yourself on a slope, you've packed too much.
So what's your actual base weight? What does a fully loaded moto-camping setup weigh for you?
Jake: My entire camping system—tent, sleeping bag, pad, cooking gear, tools, and three days of food—comes in at 28 pounds. That's everything off the bike that isn't clothing I'm wearing. I've weighed it obsessively over the years because every pound you save on gear is a pound of margin you have for fuel, water, or that unexpected detour that adds 200 miles. The sweet spot for most riders is 25 to 35 pounds of camping gear. Above 40, you're fighting your bike instead of riding it.
Every pound you save on gear is a pound of margin you have for fuel, water, or that unexpected detour that adds 200 miles.
— Jake "Campfire" Mercer
Break down the shelter system. What are you sleeping in and under?
Jake: I run a Big Agnes Copper Spur HV UL1—one-person, freestanding, weighs 2 pounds 6 ounces. Freestanding is non-negotiable for moto-camping because you'll camp on surfaces where stakes won't hold—rock, hardpack, parking lots. My sleeping bag is a 20-degree down quilt from Enlightened Equipment, about 1.5 pounds. The pad is a Thermarest NeoAir Xlite, another pound. Total sleep system: under 5 pounds. That's where most riders blow their weight budget—they buy car-camping gear and try to strap it to a motorcycle.
What about cooking? Are you actually cooking meals or just boiling water?
Jake: Boiling water, 90% of the time. I carry a Jetboil MiniMo—it's a self-contained system, boils water in two minutes, nests into itself. My cook kit is the Jetboil, a long spork, and a collapsible mug. That's it. For food, I'm running dehydrated meals from Peak Refuel or Packit Gourmet for dinners, instant oatmeal with dried fruit for breakfast, and trail mix, jerky, and tortillas with peanut butter for lunch. No pots, no pans, no cleanup beyond rinsing the cup. The whole cooking system weighs under 2 pounds.
Campsite Selection & Sleep
How do you find campsites when you're on the road? Are you planning ahead or winging it?
Jake: Both, but with a system. I always have three potential campsites marked on my GPS before I leave in the morning—mix of established campgrounds, dispersed camping areas on national forest land, and a couple of "oh crap" options like 24-hour truck stops or hospital parking lots. The key is flexibility. I use Gaia GPS with the public lands overlay, so I can see exactly where BLM and Forest Service land starts. In the western US, you can camp for free on most of that land. I'd say 70% of my nights are free dispersed camping.
What's your campsite selection criteria once you're actually at a potential spot?
Jake: Five things, in order. First, flat ground—obvious, but you'd be surprised how many people pitch on a slope and wonder why they slide all night. Second, wind protection—a tree line, a rock formation, anything to break the prevailing wind. Third, no dead trees overhead—widowmakers kill more campers than bears. Fourth, distance from water—50 feet minimum, both for Leave No Trace and because water means bugs and animals. Fifth, exit route—if I need to leave at 3 AM for any reason, can I get my loaded bike back to pavement without drama?
Widowmakers kill more campers than bears. Look up before you pitch. Always.
— Jake "Campfire" Mercer
Sleep quality is the complaint I hear most from moto-campers. What's your secret to actually sleeping well in the field?
Jake: Earplugs and an eye mask. That's 80% of it. Motorcycling is loud—your ears are ringing even with earplugs in while riding. That noise fatigue stacks up over days. I use foam earplugs rated at 33 NRR, and I sleep with a Buff pulled over my eyes. The other 20% is the sleeping pad—don't cheap out here. A good inflatable pad with an R-value above 3 will keep you warm and comfortable on any surface. I've slept on gravel, on roots, on concrete. With the right pad, it doesn't matter.
The Ride Itself
How does a loaded bike handle differently, and what should riders adjust for?
Jake: Everything changes. Braking distance increases—sometimes 30 to 40% with a full load. Your center of gravity is higher and further back. The bike is slower to initiate turns but also slower to correct if you overcook a corner. I adjust three things: I add two clicks of rear preload, I increase my following distance by half, and I'm earlier and gentler on every input—brake, throttle, lean. The biggest crash risk with a loaded bike is an emergency swerve. That weight wants to keep going straight. Practice loaded riding in a parking lot before your first trip.
What's your daily mileage target when you're camping along the way?
Jake: 250 to 300 miles. That's the sweet spot where you're making real progress but arriving at camp with daylight to spare and energy to set up, cook, and actually enjoy the evening. I've done 500-mile days on camping trips, and they suck. You pull into camp in the dark, you're too tired to eat properly, you sleep like garbage, and the next day is worse. The trip becomes about surviving the miles instead of experiencing the country. 250 miles on good roads is five to six hours of riding. That leaves the whole afternoon for camp.
The trip becomes about surviving the miles instead of experiencing the country. 250 miles is the sweet spot.
— Jake "Campfire" Mercer
What's the one piece of gear most riders forget that you'd never leave without?
Jake: A headlamp. I know that sounds basic, but you'd be shocked how many riders show up with nothing but their phone flashlight. Try setting up a tent, organizing gear, or finding your way to a bathroom at 2 AM with one hand holding a phone. A good headlamp with a red light mode weighs two ounces and changes everything about camp life after dark. I use a Petzl Actik Core—rechargeable, 450 lumens, red mode for preserving night vision. It's the most underrated piece of moto-camping gear.
Hard-Won Lessons
What's the worst night you've ever had moto-camping, and what did it teach you?
Jake: Northern New Mexico, 2019. I camped in a dry wash because it was flat and sheltered. Woke up at 2 AM to the sound of rushing water—a flash flood from a storm I didn't know was happening 20 miles upstream. I had maybe 90 seconds to grab my bike and gear and get to high ground. Made it, but barely. The bike was submerged to the axles. Lesson: never camp in a wash, a dry creek bed, or any depression that channels water. Check the weather upstream, not just overhead. And always have your keys in a predictable spot so you can grab them in the dark.
For someone planning their first moto-camping trip, what's your single most important piece of advice?
Jake: Do a shakedown camp in your backyard first. Set up everything—tent, sleeping system, cooking, pack it all up, load the bike, ride around the block, come back, set up again. Time yourself. Find out what doesn't fit, what you forgot, what's awkward. Your backyard is the cheapest place to make mistakes. I've been doing this for 20 years and I still do a shakedown before any big trip. The gear that works perfectly in your living room becomes a puzzle at a windy campsite at dusk. Solve that puzzle at home.
Looking ahead, what do you see changing in motorcycle camping over the next five years?
Jake: Gear is getting better and lighter every year—ultralight fabrics that used to cost $600 are now $200. Electric motorcycles are starting to have real range for touring, which opens up a whole different kind of quiet camping experience. But the biggest shift I see is more people discovering that you don't need a $30,000 adventure bike and $5,000 in luggage to camp off a motorcycle. A KLR 650 with $200 in soft bags and a $150 tent will take you anywhere. The barrier to entry is lower than it's ever been. My advice? Stop planning and start riding. Your first trip will teach you more than any interview.