Washing and storing camping gear without wrecking it

Most camping gear does not wear out on the trail. It dies in a garage, compressed in its stuff sack, or put away one degree damper than it should have been. Almost everything below costs nothing but a little patience, and it is the difference between a sleeping bag lasting three seasons and fifteen years.

How do you wash a down sleeping bag?

Carefully, and less often than you think. Body oils are what actually degrade down over time, so a bag does need washing eventually — but every wash is a small risk, and a liner plus airing after each trip pushes the interval out by years.

When it is time: use a front-loading machine with no central agitator, a down-specific wash rather than detergent, and a gentle cycle with an extra rinse. Detergent residue strips the natural oils that make down loft. Lift the bag out supporting its whole weight — a wet down bag is heavy and the internal baffles tear if it hangs from one end.

Drying is the part people rush and the part that matters. Tumble dry on low with a few dryer balls, and expect it to take hours, not one cycle. Down comes out in wet clumps and the balls break those up as it dries; a bag that feels dry on the outside but still has clumps inside is not dry. Synthetic bags are far more forgiving here, one of the real practical differences covered in down versus synthetic insulation.

Why does storing a sleeping bag compressed ruin it?

Because loft is the insulation. Down and synthetic fill both trap warmth in the air held between the fibres, and both take a permanent set when kept crushed for months. The damage is gradual and invisible until the night you need the bag's rated warmth and it no longer has it — and the temperature rating on the label was measured on a bag with full loft.

Store it uncompressed: a large cotton or mesh sack, hung in a wardrobe, or simply loose. The compression sack is for carrying, not for keeping. This single habit does more for a bag's working life than anything else on this page.

How do you re-waterproof a tent?

Two different things wear out, and they need different fixes. The DWR finish on the outside of the fly is what makes rain bead and run off; when water starts soaking in and darkening the fabric instead, a spray-on DWR treatment restores it. The seams are the other failure point — factory tape lifts with age and is re-sealed with seam sealer along the inside of the seam.

Neither of these changes the fabric's hydrostatic head, the number explained in the tent waterproof ratings guide. That rating comes from the coating itself, and the coating is what the next point is about.

What is the one thing that destroys tents?

Packing them away damp. A tent put into its bag wet grows mildew within days, and mildew stains permanently and smells permanently. Worse, the polyurethane coating on many flysheets and floors hydrolyses — it breaks down chemically in the presence of moisture — leaving a sticky, flaking surface that no re-proofing recovers.

If you strike camp in rain, the tent goes back in wet; that is unavoidable. What matters is that it comes out and dries completely within a day or two, pitched or hung, before it goes into storage. Store it loosely packed and fully dry, never compressed in the bottom of a rucksack over winter.

What actually kills a sleeping pad?

Storage, again. An inflatable or self-inflating pad should be kept unrolled and with the valve open — flat under a bed is ideal. Self-inflating pads especially: months tightly rolled compresses the open-cell foam inside and it stops self-inflating properly, which is exactly the loft loss that costs you R-value, and R-value is what keeps the cold ground from taking your warmth. Closed-cell foam pads are immune to all of this, one of the trade-offs in air, self-inflating, or foam.

Leaving the valve open also lets any moisture from your breath dry out rather than sitting inside the pad growing mould where you cannot reach it.

How do you look after a water filter?

Backflush it regularly — flow rate dropping is the filter telling you it is clogging, and most hollow-fibre filters recover almost completely from a backflush. Doing it at the end of a trip rather than the start of the next one means it dries out clean.

The critical rule is that a wet filter must never freeze. Ice expands inside the hollow fibres and cracks them, and a cracked filter looks and flows exactly like a working one while no longer filtering anything. There is no way to check it in the field. If a filter has been left wet in a car overnight below freezing, retire it — and on cold trips it sleeps in the bottom of your sleeping bag. See the water treatment picks for the difference between filter types here.

Stoves and cookware

Cookware is the easy part: wash it, dry it properly, and do not store pots nested while damp. Titanium and aluminium behave differently under heat and scrubbing, which the titanium versus aluminium guide covers.

Stoves need less than people expect but not nothing. Keep the burner jet clear — a blocked or partly blocked jet shows up as a yellow, uneven flame instead of a clean blue one — and check the O-ring seal where the stove meets the canister for cracking or hardening. That seal is a cheap part and the only thing between the thread and a gas leak. Store canisters somewhere cool and never fully spent-and-forgotten; see camping gas canisters for how much you actually need.

The short version

Everything dries completely before it is put away. Insulation — bags and pads alike — is stored loose, never compressed. Filters never freeze. Those three habits cover most of what shortens the life of a compact camping kit, and none of them cost anything.