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Mar. 31st, 2004 02:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tylikThe equipment test run went pretty well. As in -- it was a great run, which partly meant that things were well and trully tested (including me) and the equipment mostly performed.
First, the setting. Some damn place along the Mountain Loop highway. I headed out a bit later than I'd meant, but the weather cleared and bit, so I drove until I ran into snow by the road, and then drove back a little ways. Ended up selecting a spot to camp in around six.
Since a major component of this test was whether my body was up to sleeping somewhere that wasn't my bed, while I was mostly testing new backpacking equipment, I only camped about half a mile from where I parked because if I my back was upset, I didn't want to deal with a hike getting back. (And so I brought a lot of extra frivolous food, a hard back book, and other such.)
Of course, as soon as I got out, it started raining harder. And it was getting dark, so I set up my tent for the first time in the dark and the rain (which strikes me as appropriate -- goodness knows, I'm sure that will be the case often enough. But it was lovely -- some of the most wonderful moss, and I camped near a river.
The tent set up pretty easily considering that one of the things I forgot to bring was the strap that allows my mini mag light to function as a headlamp, so it was low light and touch throughout. The ground was both rocky and clayey, and while I picked a spot that drained just fine, it was hard to get the stakes in, and they pulled out easily. (I-beam stakes would have worked better, but they're a lot bulkier.) Then again, it's a free standing tent, and I did eventually get it pretty well staked, so no real problems.
By the time I finished with my tent, and got the rest of my gear out, it really was dark. My space blanket tarp (I love those things, I really do) made a good gear cover even though I was too lazy to tie it up -- put it on a reasonably flat surface, put stuff on the shiney side, and folded it back over to cover. The shiny bit meant when I uncovered stuff to work there, it served as a reflector for the candle latern.
Bed set up was easy. How did I go so long without every acquiring a thermarest? I apologize for all the slighting things I said about them when I was younger... Both warmer and more comfortable than my close cell foam. And not really bulkier. (A little heavier. And if I do a lot of cold weather camping I'll get one of the close cell waffle folding thingies and double up.) However I didn't bring a pillow. I should have brought something. I grabbed the lumbar pillow out of my car to compensate, but though it feels really stupid, I need to look into this more. Poor sad neck.
I ended up electing to have a cold dinner. Hot would have been nice, but the weather was pretty wretched, and I didn't want to play with a brand new stove under those circumstances. Then I got into the tent, and climbed into the sleeping bag (which has these straps at the shoulders so you can kind of wear it with your arms sticking out -- very nice for reading or journalling, makes a big difference on how warm your back is) and read and journalled for a while.
I was suprised how lonely I felt. I don't know if I've done the kind of camping where you spend a lot of time sitting in your tent in the dark solo before. Good time to have someone else along... But journalling kind of snapped me out of it. Oh, and the tent has a loop that's just perfect for hanging the candle latern, where it's useful and doesn't get in the way.
Around then is when I noticed the one flaw of the tent design -- the rain fly tends to touch the tent walls on two sides, which leads to condensation. (Okay, I'd noticed it before, but this is when they got damp to the touch.) Not a big deal with just me in there, but it would be problematic with two. However, there are loops, and it comes with guy lines that I believe will allow you to stay out the rainfly a little, and solve this problem... however, there are not enough tent stakes to do this. This will be remedied. Feh.
Oh, I should mention the great amount of amusement I got reading the documentation. Little things like "In high wind situations you can use the guy lines to stake down the tent as shown..." Without an illustration. "Do not burn anything that uses fuel..." Okay, I'm pretty sure what they meant, but my literal mind trips me up. How many things burn without fuel? "You can use this footprint tarp, your tent poles, and your rain fly to make a lightweight minimalist shelter." Kind of like setting up a tent, but without the tent! Might be fun in the summer, but the idea seemed pretty ludicrous in the cold.
Still, I really love the tent. Something about sitting under those intersecting arches by candlelight makes me feel like I'm in a tiny little cathedral.
And as silly as it sounds, I'm going to continue to look into making myself a solar charger for my PDA. They are just too useful -- no network connectivity for me, that far out, which is kind of just as well. But you can keep so much on them -- maps, photo repository, books, journal, etc. etc. And they're backlit, so you don't have to hassle wth finding a decent lightsource. Which is hugely useful -- I ended up reading a book I didn't like as much as the hardback I'd brought, just because it was so much easier, and could be handled one handed.
Oh, somewhere fairly late at night -- when I got up to use the lack of facilities before going to sleep -- the cloud cover blew off and the moon and stars came out. How stunningly different. During the rain the dark was almost oppressive -- it was really hard to see anything, and the sense of large quantities of dark space, empty of people was disquieting. But it was a half moon, and everything was silvery, and it shone off the snow covered peaks around. And, of course, as soon as the clouds were gone, the temperature dropping and it was fricking freezing.
My neck is a little sore, but my back is fine. I didn't really sleep well, though -- it was colder than I'd expected, though not enough to be a problem by itself (two pairs of wool socks mostly solved it, though I'm bringing one of those knit hood things that cover your neck and ears next time, my hat helped, but really didn't do the job.) But throw in the discomfort from not having a pillow, and it was kind of marginal.
But the morning dawned and was glorious. I often think of that scene in the hobbit where Bilbo climbs a tree up out of the murkwood, where they've been in the dark and hungry and cold for days, and he ends up in the sunlight surrounded by purple emperor butterflies. Not that it was a particularly bad night for me, but the sun turned all the birch trees across the river golden, and lit up the hanging moss as the last mist settled around the riverbank... and I remember why these trips are worth it, even when they aren't that comfortable. Even when it's pretty mild, there's a sense of ordeal, and transformation.
Meanwhile, I got up and got to play with the new stove. No, I didn't mean to get a new stove, but it turned out my old stove at some point, probably quite a while ago, was sprayed, and corroded. I'd been meaning to replace it this season anyway -- it was crappy when I got it for $5 twelve years ago -- so I just had to replace it without doing as much research as I'd like. But I'm happy with my new one (though I'm not sure I should have gotten a cannister stove...) and it, its fuel, and the cookset all nest inside eachother and are about the size of a grapefruit. I'm in love.
(Oh, and I got a new cookset. My other stuff was mostly circa 1978, and pretty big for one person, and since I spent less on a stove than I'd expected I got two little nesting pots.) So I made myself tea and oatmeal, which made for a lovely morning, all in all.
After a bit of puttering around, camp was easy to break, and I did a bit of Taiji, and headed home.
First, the setting. Some damn place along the Mountain Loop highway. I headed out a bit later than I'd meant, but the weather cleared and bit, so I drove until I ran into snow by the road, and then drove back a little ways. Ended up selecting a spot to camp in around six.
Since a major component of this test was whether my body was up to sleeping somewhere that wasn't my bed, while I was mostly testing new backpacking equipment, I only camped about half a mile from where I parked because if I my back was upset, I didn't want to deal with a hike getting back. (And so I brought a lot of extra frivolous food, a hard back book, and other such.)
Of course, as soon as I got out, it started raining harder. And it was getting dark, so I set up my tent for the first time in the dark and the rain (which strikes me as appropriate -- goodness knows, I'm sure that will be the case often enough. But it was lovely -- some of the most wonderful moss, and I camped near a river.
The tent set up pretty easily considering that one of the things I forgot to bring was the strap that allows my mini mag light to function as a headlamp, so it was low light and touch throughout. The ground was both rocky and clayey, and while I picked a spot that drained just fine, it was hard to get the stakes in, and they pulled out easily. (I-beam stakes would have worked better, but they're a lot bulkier.) Then again, it's a free standing tent, and I did eventually get it pretty well staked, so no real problems.
By the time I finished with my tent, and got the rest of my gear out, it really was dark. My space blanket tarp (I love those things, I really do) made a good gear cover even though I was too lazy to tie it up -- put it on a reasonably flat surface, put stuff on the shiney side, and folded it back over to cover. The shiny bit meant when I uncovered stuff to work there, it served as a reflector for the candle latern.
Bed set up was easy. How did I go so long without every acquiring a thermarest? I apologize for all the slighting things I said about them when I was younger... Both warmer and more comfortable than my close cell foam. And not really bulkier. (A little heavier. And if I do a lot of cold weather camping I'll get one of the close cell waffle folding thingies and double up.) However I didn't bring a pillow. I should have brought something. I grabbed the lumbar pillow out of my car to compensate, but though it feels really stupid, I need to look into this more. Poor sad neck.
I ended up electing to have a cold dinner. Hot would have been nice, but the weather was pretty wretched, and I didn't want to play with a brand new stove under those circumstances. Then I got into the tent, and climbed into the sleeping bag (which has these straps at the shoulders so you can kind of wear it with your arms sticking out -- very nice for reading or journalling, makes a big difference on how warm your back is) and read and journalled for a while.
I was suprised how lonely I felt. I don't know if I've done the kind of camping where you spend a lot of time sitting in your tent in the dark solo before. Good time to have someone else along... But journalling kind of snapped me out of it. Oh, and the tent has a loop that's just perfect for hanging the candle latern, where it's useful and doesn't get in the way.
Around then is when I noticed the one flaw of the tent design -- the rain fly tends to touch the tent walls on two sides, which leads to condensation. (Okay, I'd noticed it before, but this is when they got damp to the touch.) Not a big deal with just me in there, but it would be problematic with two. However, there are loops, and it comes with guy lines that I believe will allow you to stay out the rainfly a little, and solve this problem... however, there are not enough tent stakes to do this. This will be remedied. Feh.
Oh, I should mention the great amount of amusement I got reading the documentation. Little things like "In high wind situations you can use the guy lines to stake down the tent as shown..." Without an illustration. "Do not burn anything that uses fuel..." Okay, I'm pretty sure what they meant, but my literal mind trips me up. How many things burn without fuel? "You can use this footprint tarp, your tent poles, and your rain fly to make a lightweight minimalist shelter." Kind of like setting up a tent, but without the tent! Might be fun in the summer, but the idea seemed pretty ludicrous in the cold.
Still, I really love the tent. Something about sitting under those intersecting arches by candlelight makes me feel like I'm in a tiny little cathedral.
And as silly as it sounds, I'm going to continue to look into making myself a solar charger for my PDA. They are just too useful -- no network connectivity for me, that far out, which is kind of just as well. But you can keep so much on them -- maps, photo repository, books, journal, etc. etc. And they're backlit, so you don't have to hassle wth finding a decent lightsource. Which is hugely useful -- I ended up reading a book I didn't like as much as the hardback I'd brought, just because it was so much easier, and could be handled one handed.
Oh, somewhere fairly late at night -- when I got up to use the lack of facilities before going to sleep -- the cloud cover blew off and the moon and stars came out. How stunningly different. During the rain the dark was almost oppressive -- it was really hard to see anything, and the sense of large quantities of dark space, empty of people was disquieting. But it was a half moon, and everything was silvery, and it shone off the snow covered peaks around. And, of course, as soon as the clouds were gone, the temperature dropping and it was fricking freezing.
My neck is a little sore, but my back is fine. I didn't really sleep well, though -- it was colder than I'd expected, though not enough to be a problem by itself (two pairs of wool socks mostly solved it, though I'm bringing one of those knit hood things that cover your neck and ears next time, my hat helped, but really didn't do the job.) But throw in the discomfort from not having a pillow, and it was kind of marginal.
But the morning dawned and was glorious. I often think of that scene in the hobbit where Bilbo climbs a tree up out of the murkwood, where they've been in the dark and hungry and cold for days, and he ends up in the sunlight surrounded by purple emperor butterflies. Not that it was a particularly bad night for me, but the sun turned all the birch trees across the river golden, and lit up the hanging moss as the last mist settled around the riverbank... and I remember why these trips are worth it, even when they aren't that comfortable. Even when it's pretty mild, there's a sense of ordeal, and transformation.
Meanwhile, I got up and got to play with the new stove. No, I didn't mean to get a new stove, but it turned out my old stove at some point, probably quite a while ago, was sprayed, and corroded. I'd been meaning to replace it this season anyway -- it was crappy when I got it for $5 twelve years ago -- so I just had to replace it without doing as much research as I'd like. But I'm happy with my new one (though I'm not sure I should have gotten a cannister stove...) and it, its fuel, and the cookset all nest inside eachother and are about the size of a grapefruit. I'm in love.
(Oh, and I got a new cookset. My other stuff was mostly circa 1978, and pretty big for one person, and since I spent less on a stove than I'd expected I got two little nesting pots.) So I made myself tea and oatmeal, which made for a lovely morning, all in all.
After a bit of puttering around, camp was easy to break, and I did a bit of Taiji, and headed home.
