Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Gear

Summer is the time for camping. It's great to get out when it's warm and all the field and fauna are active. When there is little worry of storm or cold. When you can pretty much just sleep under the stars without a care. 
My wife doesn't enjoy camping. My two oldest are out of the house. My two middle kids are at the age where anything with a parent involved is "lame and boring" and one doesn't like bugs especially mosquitos ( who really does?) 
my youngest son probably would go if I asked him but with all the others saying "no" I have written camping off. None of them want to fish
 
With Speyfest this week I'm looking forward to camping even it is only "car camping" , not backpacking. This past weekend was full of thoughts about gear. digging through camping gear that I haven't touched in a year. 
I know my stuff is strewn from one corner of the basement to the other and stashed in cabinets in the shop avoiding dust. 
 
Every time I pack to camp I am right back with the 307th ENG BN 82nd Airborne INF DIV. Half moon black and gold subdued version on my shoulder. A voice in my head screaming "travel light freeze at night" so there is room for demolitions, but I'm not walking all night this weekend I'm car camping. I have room for a lantern and a double burner Colman stove and even a cooler.  Better because gone are the days when I could put my head on my canteen on a pile of rocks and red clay and sleep like a baby. 20 minutes ready to rock. Nope, my body aches in the morning my joints need two cups of coffee for proper lubrication. The beauty of this is I have space in the truck for a coffee pot. (Laughing sinisterly)
 
Certainly, I wish the perverbial "fish wagon", a 1966 ford econoline camper top super van was complete but to no avail remains untouched this summer. It's a tent for sleeping quarters this year.
 
 
 A reliable tent though, a Kelty, this same tent survived a Father's Day weekend trip up the Manistee River from red bridge in the worst down poor of the last 100 years.
 
 
 Over night US31 washed out and the river came up so high we nearly couldn't get back under the bridge. The DNR heard we were up there and came up to see if we survived. The river was a torrent of bubbly chocolate milk with full trees rootball to tip spinning in corner eddies. Not a single drop of moisture in that tent. 
 
Other gear isn't quite as reliable. For instance the inflatable sleep pad from Walmart. I've used it for nearly 10 years and every year I say to myself and anyone that will listen. "This thing is junk". I wake up in the middle of the night with sore hips and my shoulder popping out of socket. I roll from one side to the other trying to stay on the mat that I have over inflated hoping for better cushion between me and the cold hard ground and that one root under the exact spot I'm sleeping.
 
Emotionally draining. I'm a far cry from who I was in the 90s. the beauty of that, perspective. Having those years humping a 100lbs of ammunition and demolitions and a spare pair of socks through the dark cold night only to lie down on a fire ants nest gives perspective. Perspective that says keep this "junk" mat "it's better than nothing".
 An appreciation for the best tent I've ever owned and a longing for my old woobie.
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