The Camping Trip Where My Knee Told Me to Buy a Wagon

The trip started like every other trip. Ray and I pulled into the Kachina Trailhead lot on a Friday in October, and I did the thing I always do: I opened the back of the 4Runner and started hauling bins to the tent site 200 yards away. By the third bin, my right knee reminded me why this was a bad idea. I had fallen on that same trail two summers before, and every carry since had been a negotiation with the ache. That afternoon, with the cooler still in the truck and the tent poles still in the back, I finally said out loud what I had been thinking for a year: we need a wagon.

The ROSONG collapsible wagon was not the first thing I looked at. I had tried the cheap folding carts with the small plastic wheels, and they tipped on the first root. I had borrowed a friend's rigid garden wagon and it took up half the trunk. What I wanted was something that folded flat, rolled over dirt without catching, and could carry two full bins and a cooler without me having to watch it every second. The ROSONG wagon checked those boxes on paper, but I did not trust paper. I trusted the parking lot test.

By the third bin, my right knee reminded me why this was a bad idea. That afternoon I finally said out loud what I had been thinking for a year: we need a wagon.

The first thing I did when the ROSONG arrived was unfold it in the living room. It took maybe a minute, no manual, no pinching fingers. The frame clicked open and the bottom sat flat, which sounds like a small thing until you have used a wagon that sags in the middle. I loaded it with two storage bins, the cooler, and a duffel bag, and I rolled it across the carpet just to feel the wheels turn. Then I took it outside and rolled it over the curb, over gravel, and over a patch of dirt the neighbor's dog had dug up. It did not tip. That was the first good sign.

The real test came the next weekend at a site about a quarter mile from the parking area. That is not a long walk, but it is a long walk with a 40-pound cooler and a bin of tent poles when your knee is already complaining. I loaded the ROSONG with everything we needed for two nights, and Ray took the camp chairs. He got to the site in about four minutes. I got there in about five, and I was not limping. That has not happened since before the fall.

What surprised me most was how it handled the terrain. The wheels are wide enough that they do not sink into soft dirt, and the front wheels swivel, which sounds like a feature you would not care about until you are trying to turn a loaded wagon on a narrow trail. The handle is tall enough that I do not have to bend to pull it, and that matters more than I expected with a bad knee. I have used wagons where the handle sits low and you end up walking hunched over. Not this one.

After four months and seven trips, the ROSONG has done everything I asked of it. It folds flat enough to slide behind the back seat of the 4Runner, it holds two bins and a cooler without sagging, and it has not lost a single screw or wheel. It is not the lightest wagon on the market, and it is not the cheapest, but it is the one that does the job without me having to think about it. That is what I wanted.

What I'd Tell You If We Were Sitting at My Kitchen Table

If you are reading this because your knees are tired of the walk from the car, here is what I would tell you over coffee. Do not buy the cheapest folding cart you can find. I did, and it sat in the garage for a year before I finally threw it out. Buy something with wide wheels, a low handle you do not have to bend for, and a frame that locks open flat. The ROSONG wagon is the one I would buy again, and I do not say that about much gear.

I would also tell you to think about how you actually camp, not how you wish you camped. I am not a backpacker. I car camp out of bins in the back of a 4Runner, and my knee is the reason I will never go back to hauling everything by hand. The ROSONG wagon has made the difference between dreading the walk from the truck and barely noticing it. That is worth more than the price tag.