According to Wikipedia, loons
need “a long distance to gain momentum for take-off.” I’ve even read that loons can become stranded
on small ponds that aren’t long enough for their needed “runway.” As a fledgling hiker, I am exercising my
wings in preparation for flight by testing and familiarizing myself with my
equipment as well as the preparing of mind and body. I do not want to find myself stranded by
faulty equipment.
The other day, my new tent
arrived. So after dinner, I anxiously
went out in the backyard to set it up. Generally
speaking, setting up the modern day tent doesn’t require a lot of skill. Still, each design varies somewhat and I was
curious to see how much time it would take to pitch my tent and how much room
my new ultra-light 2 person home was going to provide. My mate was by my side to observe the
building of my nest.
From previous experience, I
automatically flipped the folded material so that the darker color was facing
the ground assuming this to be the floor.
The instructions stated that the guy lines were set close to the ideal
length with a pre-established loop to be attached to the notched stakes. Eagerly, I stretched forth these 6 lines and
hooked them to the stakes which I pressed into the ground. The next step was to un-zip the door to
insert the poles inside. Uh oh, the door
zipper was definitely going the wrong direction and that sunny yellow material
that I thought was my ceiling is actually my floor.
Feeling slightly embarrassed in
front of my witness, I proceed to disconnect the guy lines, flip the tent over
and reconnect the lines again. Un-zip
the door, crawl inside and insert the support poles. Ah, yes, that’s looking better. All that is left to do is to tighten the guy
lines so that all is taunt and anchored well to weather any storm.
Oh, and there’s these vestibule
flaps; something I’ve not had on any other tent I’ve owned, but also one of the
features that I liked when researching this product. The key features that my tent must have, in
my mind, for a long distance hike were a light weight, ease in set up and as
much room as possible to allow for some personal space and comfort. These vestibule flaps provide an additional “porch”
space outside of the sleeping area which I thought would be excellent for
storing gear or even providing a somewhat protected space for cooking in
inclement weather. As this is
considered a two person tent, I actually have a door and porch on each side of
my tent and when ordering it, I must say, I felt like I was going to have some
pretty deluxe accommodations on the trail.
Well, as I’m circling the tent
and trying to adjust the guy line tensions, my husband remarks, “THIS is a two
person tent?” I answer, “Yeah, now you understand why I ordered this instead of
using the single tent.” The single tent
we own is barely long enough for my body and the support pole was right by my
feet. Knowing my sleeping habits, I
easily envisioned myself kicking out the support pole during the night and
having the tent collapse in on me. Not
what I have in mind for a restful night’s sleep, so I decided to go with
something a little bit bigger.
I’m not exactly a small
girl. I’m 5’8” and a good 20” broad at
the shoulder, not to mention the width of my lower regions. My sleeping pad is also 20” wide and I’m sure
I will roll off of it many times until I learn to stay more still at night. Actually, I’m hoping I’ll be so tired from
the day’s hiking that I will lay still from sheer exhaustion.
The advertised width of my tent
is 37” which does not allow for two 20” pads to lie side by side, yet this IS considered
a two person tent. The length of the
tent is a more reasonable 87” or 7’ 3” for those who don’t want to do the math. The illustrations included with the tent also
show the two sleeping bags snuggled very closely and lying at angles that allow
the legs and feet to taper into the narrowing point that is the foot end of the
tent. All this is done, of course, to
conserve weight just as a mummy sleeping bag is tapered to conserve body
heat.
Also in the interest of
conserving weight is the material of which the tent is made. Let’s see, how should I describe this to you;
oh, I know…can you imagine a plastic Wal-Mart shopping bag? You know, that thin recycled plastic that
tears the minute any semi-sharp object comes in contact with it. Now, imagine it’s yellow and you have a good
idea of what my tent material looks like.
I certainly hope that it holds up better than the shopping bag or those
thunderstorms I expect to encounter are going to make for some interesting
evenings.
As I continue to adjust lines and
struggle with the sliding tension holds, which are of a design I’ve not
encountered before, I am catching the subtle smirks that cross my husband’s
face from the corner of my eye and I’m noticing the twinkle in his eye as he
holds in the humor he is finding in my learning process. I don’t mind; he’s a good man and he’s doing
his absolute best to be supportive of this endeavor despite not quite comprehending
why I would want to put myself through this extreme camping/hiking experience. I have no doubt in my mind that he secretly suspects
that I’ll quit before I get anywhere near Maine. But, true to character for him, he will state
that he believes in me and wishes me the best in my endeavors. He is a good husband and I’m very thankful to
have him. We both know that the odds are
against me, but we both also know that I have a stubborn streak that has
carried me through more than one challenge in my life.
While inspecting the fit of my
proudly erected abode, I noticed that the guy line to the “back porch” wasn’t
quite to my liking, so I crawled toward the door and was just beginning to adjust
the tension on the line when the stake on the opposite side of the tent, which
was not secured tightly but wedged into a crack in this Oklahoma red clay, came
flying out of the ground from the increased pressure. The sudden release caused the support pole to
come down and suddenly, I find myself on all fours inside a half collapsed
tent.
I crawled out the door to see my
darling husband struggling to hold back his laughter. As I walked around the tent to stand next to
him, I tripped over one of the guy lines which became entangled in my
flip-flop. This proves to be too much
for him and he tries to graciously excuse himself so that he won’t be laughing
directly in my face, all the while doubling over with that silent, I-can’t-breath-and-am-turning-red-in-the-face
laughter shaking every fiber of his body.
I stand there feeling somewhat embarrassed
by my clumsiness and assess the situation.
I make a mental note to add some small pieces of reflective tape to the
tops of the stakes and perhaps on the guy lines themselves. Or maybe I’ll attach some small lengths of
the bright, hunter orange poly cord to make the guy lines more visible. I say to my husband, “Well, this is exactly
why I’m testing everything out now.” He
jokingly responds, “And in 6 months’ time, you’ll be setting up like a pro.” I certainly don’t blame my husband for
laughing at my comedy of errors and I even join in with a few chuckles of my
own. Our own form of the loon tremolo
which writer John McPhee called “the laugh of the deeply insane.”
Yes, loons are considered clumsy
and have difficulty walking on land. To
land on water, they glide in on their bellies in an awkward manner, doing a
modified belly flop, as it were, because their legs are placed too near the
rear of the their bodies to land like other water birds. Yet the loons are
excellent divers, swimmers and migrate 100s of miles every year, eventually
reaching their goal despite what might be considered a handicap. My migration begins in 183 days. Looks like I’m going to need every bit of
that runway to gain momentum, but how wonderful it will be to reach the goal.
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