The Telegram (St. John's)

Tenting in the rain

- Paul Smith Paul Smith, a native of Spaniard’s Bay, fishes and wanders the outdoors at every opportunit­y. He can be contacted at flyfishthe­rock@hotmail.com or follow him on twitter at @flyfishthe­rock

I love life under canvas, or nylon, or modern breathable waterproof fabric, or whatever a tent might be sewn together from. Tenting is wonderful when the sun is shining and the weather is fair and warm. At least that’s the way most folks think about living in a tent for a week, or even a few days. But you know what, not surprising­ly for those who read my column regularly; I like to be in a tent no matter the environmen­tal conditions outside. Yes, I even love tenting in the pouring rain.

I have slept many nights under fabric, and just one under the stars. I’ll tell the open sky story another time. But tents keep the rain from falling directly upon your dreams, and are the preferred option for most, even the toughest outdoorsy of folks. Oh the wonderful memories of growing up, sleeping nearly entire summers in a tent during my youth. Yes, my parents did own a fine traditiona­l wood frame house, but I’d be getting my zz’s out in the backyard, or someone else’s yard, for the entire summer season. Canvas is in my blood.

As boys growing up in Gander in the early 70’s, we’d camp out just about every night, rain or starry skies. Just about every one of us lads had a tent of some sort set up somewhere while school was closed for the summer. Most evenings we’d have a barbecue, hotdogs, hamburgers, a slice of bologna, or something left over from Mom’s kitchen. That wasn’t our supper mind you, rather an after-dark snack gathered with friends. At sunset we would light the coals.

I remember the warm humid July night when Alvin Tucker barbecued a rabbit. Hey, if you are out there reading this, drop me a line old friend. It was my first taste of grilled hare. We shared our grub. Funny how some obscure past experience­s just find permanent storage in your brain’s filing cabinet. Those were real coal cookouts, no propane grills in those days. And there were no video players, computer games, or internet to amuse our young minds. We made our own fun. After our bellies were filled we’d have a game of monopoly or cards in the tent, lit by a cord fed in through a house window. Grand long summer evenings they were.

Last week I had vivid flashbacks to my youth, four days in a tent with no cellphone, Facebook, e-mail, or any of the modern forms of social communicat­ion. And it rained for a solid 36 hours. I didn’t bring along my AM/FM battery powered emergency radio. It’s now added to my camping checklist. It was like sensory deprivatio­n. I guess our minds are conditione­d to being continuall­y connected to the great big digital world. I hadn’t realized how I have changed. Good thing we brought books and headlamps to read by. I thought of long summer evenings past, as the rain pitter patted on the nylon tent fly. Come to think of it, tents didn’t have flies in the ’70s, just a single layer between kids and rain.

Goldie and I camped in a tent at Barachois Provincial Park on our beautiful west coast. The park is nestled in a lovely valley between Erin Mountain and the high ground of the Trans Canada Highway just 45 minutes west of Corner Brook. It’s a lovely old-styled provincial park with 150 tree-surrounded campsites. It’s not the gravel parking lot styled campground­s for accommodat­ion of massive RVS so typical nowadays. I’ll say more about the park and all the wonderful stuff you can do there another time, like Goldie climbing her first mountain. For now let’s talk about rain and tenting.

So it rained a lot, heavy at times and perpetuall­y to some degree. At least it wasn’t cold. We had experience­d a few nice days before the dark clouds moved in over the hills, and the rain was forecasted. We had checked our phones and Weather Network while resupplyin­g in Stephenvil­le. Goldie was worried about getting wet in our tent. I reassured her from past experience that we would be fine. No worries, tent materials are vastly improved, and I had purchased a good quality car camping tent, a Eureka sixperson Copper Canyon. It has a full screen roof covered by a full waterproof fly. That gives it plenty of ventilatio­n when sealed up for bad weather. It’s the inside condensati­on that usually gets you wet in a tent. I had that problem covered. I have been wet many times before, in lesser poorly ventilated tents.

Our sleeping quarters stayed dry as bleached desert bones, but our cook tent was altogether another story. I’m giving that aspect of car tenting some further thought. Personally I’d just cook in the open air, in a rain suit if necessary, but Goldie doesn’t fancy that idea, or flies, no, not one little bit. So I bought one of those screen shelters, so we could cook and eat in comfort, out of the way of pesky flying buzzing critters, and the elements to some degree. We had our camp kitchen fully rigged on our picnic table in the shelter. It’s lovely to have a cook tent separate from the sleeping tent, even for rough around the edges sorts like me.

With the rain coming we had to find a way to batten down and rainproof the fly screen shelter. I bought a tarp and parachute cord at Canadian Tire in Stephenvil­le. It was scheduled to start raining overnight. While Goldie cooked supper inside, I rigged the tarp around the fly shelter so that our gear and grub would stay dry inside. And we could cook and eat breakfast in comfort, with the rain pouring around us. With the wind direction in mind I used the tarp’s limited area to best shelter us. It started raining around midnight just as our campfire died down for the night. Off to bed we went wondering how dry or wet breakfast might be.

Our plan worked for the most part. A bigger tarp would have been better. But breakfast was relatively dry. Now I’m doing my homework on buying a proper kitchen tent and not just a screen shelter. Eureka makes several kitchen tent designs with rain flaps that cover the screen sections for rain protection. I’ll have one for next year. If anyone has suggestion­s on kitchen tent options please let me know.

We weathered the rain without much discomfort and dried out our gear in the warm sun before heading home. The sun eventually shines and warms the Earth for us tenters. And I still love sleeping in a tent on a rainy summer night. I think I’ll add my monopoly game to our camping checklist.

 ?? PAUL SMITH PHOTO ?? My attempt tarpaulin attempt to stay dry and keep Goldie happy in the rain.
PAUL SMITH PHOTO My attempt tarpaulin attempt to stay dry and keep Goldie happy in the rain.
 ?? PAUL SMITH PHOTO ?? Skies always clear. It never rains forever.
PAUL SMITH PHOTO Skies always clear. It never rains forever.
 ?? PAUL SMITH PHOTO ?? A dandy camp kitchen.
PAUL SMITH PHOTO A dandy camp kitchen.
 ?? GOLDIE SMITH PHOTO ?? That’s me, morning coffee and breakfast in total comfort.
GOLDIE SMITH PHOTO That’s me, morning coffee and breakfast in total comfort.
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada