Campgrounds Harrisonburg VA

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Harrisonburg/Shenandoah Valley KOA
(800) 421-7116, (540) 896-8929
12480 Mountain Valley Road
Broadway, VA
Number of Sites
97 Total Camp/RV Sites,17 30 Amp Service,24 50 Amp Service,97 Electric and Water,41 Full Hookups,5 Group Sites,45 Max RV Length,33 Pull-Thru Sites,61 Sideouts,33 Tent Sites,
Cabin Rentals,

Rancho Campgrounds
(540) 740-8313
28 Rancho Dr
New Market, VA
Massanutten River Adventures
(540) 289-4066
Rt. 644 (Resort Drive)
Massanutten, VA
Spring Gardens
(804) 732-8908
2178 County Dr
Petersburg, VA
Fam Camp
(757) 766-7627
123 Saunders Rd
Hampton, VA
Endless Caverns
(540) 740-3993
1800 Endless Caverns Rd
New Market, VA
Shenandoah Valley Koa
(540) 248-2746
State Route 781 W
Verona, VA
Utt's Campground
(276) 728-7203
Po Box 304
Fancy Gap, VA
Yogi Bear''s Jellystone Park at Natural Bridge
(800) 421-7116, (540) 291-2727
16 Recreation Lane
Natural Bridge Station, VA
Number of Sites
210 Total Camp/RV Sites,112 30 Amp Service,85 50 Amp Service,210 Electric and Water,122 Full Hookups,45 Max RV Length,3 No Hookups,55 Pull-Thru Sites,22 Tent Sites,
Cable TV,Dump Station,Firewood,Group Area,Handicapped Restroom Facilities,Ice,Internet Access at Specific Locations in Park,WiFi HotSpots,Laundry,Pavilion,Pets Welcome,Propane,Snack Bar,Store,Cabin Rentals,
Arcade,Game room,Beach Volleyball,Biking Trails,Bird Watching,Canoe Rentals,Fishing,Golf Carts,Hay Rides,Hiking Trails,Horse Shoes,Mini Golf,Nature Trails,Picnic Area,Planned Activities,Playground,Recreation Hall,Swimming Pool,Swimming - Lake,Swimming - River,Theme Weekends,Tube rentals,Water activities,Water Slides,

Chesapeake Campground
(757) 485-0149
693 George Washington Hwy S
Chesapeake, VA

Camp Virgin - A Woman's First Hunting Camp

Trying to envision an Alaskan hunting camp is an exercise in futility. Stereotypical wilderness experiences usually have one imagining a warm campfire, a group of men huddled around its' radiating warmth, guns propped, a faithful dog lying at their feet and tall tales. That is the dream of many but the realities of camp life sometimes take a different path. For months I had been listening to legends and narratives from my companion about all the goings-on in a hunting camp. Wildly exuberant disclosures of near-miss shots with his .454 pistol, recounts of the distinctive camaraderie that ties camp mates together and his gleaming excitement were all part of the enticing tales he would recite to me upon his return from the hunt. This year as he prepared himself for a new season of adventure, a desire to participate in this annual "boys" event was ignited. I wanted to head for the remote and densely wooded hills, I wanted to share in some of the action, I wanted to see what this was all about! What is the allure that makes a man want to spend days or weeks in a territory where the lavatory facilities consist of whichever tree or bush is the closest target? Or where a human could very possibly wind up being a link in the pyramidal food chain?


After arriving at moose camp I spied the incorporation of a lean-to, fire pit and cabin, or my Hunter's Hilton. I was sure that my accommodations would have been the equivalent of an old, leaky and mildewed tent the size of which would barely fit two people and their sleeping bags. The surprise was a real 'lodge' that existed of an 8x10 cabin retrofitted with aluminum siding to help prevent the local brown bear citizenry from burglarizing the"palace". The look-alike shipping container cabin was connected to another ramshackle shed via covered breezeway. Two sets of bunkbeds fit in one corner and a tiny woodstove squatted in the other. Across from the woodstove was a shelf that supported a two-burner gas stove with the complement of a coffeepot. Cozy and warm, it was just perfect for female habitation. The"restroom" of course, was outside-around-the-corner-and-first-spruce-to-the-left.

Soot-covered frying pans, old-fashioned cowboy coffee pots, blackened sauce pans and a variety of cooking utensils hung suspended from support beams around the outdoor cooking arena. The best seat in the house turned out to be an old green vinyl bus bench. Burn holes from campfire sparks outnumbered the grease spots it wore and a Mexican horse blanket added a bit of decorated padding. This was where I would spend part of my time while the other half would be spent traversing heavily trafficked, mud-sloppy trails. Participating in the outdoor cooking experience was enjoyable since it was so contrary to the indoor regimen at home. Washing hands consisted of one good swipe on the ONLY pair of jeans I had brought along, then slopping a little bit of this or adding a little bit of that to the meal was the coup de gras of...

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