THE LAND NORTH OF SUPERIOR

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There are few things more exciting than using a new piece of equipment for the first time.  In the everyday world this is true for so many things but that wonder seems to pale a bit when compared to the excitement of using something for the first time in land north of Superior.

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Our first tent a nine X nine external frame tent had been bought second hand at a yard sale.  It had served well for three years except that lately as the family grew we were finding the tent a little crowded.  There was virtually no room in the tent for anything but the bags, people and Ace; who had from the first taken his place by the door.  This tent would have served until the end of the year except for an unfortunate stroke of luck.  One of our paddles had gone astray, from it’s usual place over the wheel well of the truck.  As more stuff was piled in pressure was put on the paddle and it, during the course of a four hour trip home rubbed a hole through three layers of the folded tent.

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We had talked of getting a hard top tent trailer but the used prices were really high at the time.  We didn’t want to invest in a new one in case we didn’t like the experience and had to sell it at a loss.  We bought a nine X twelve tent and waited to go camping.  Finally a two-night opportunity came.  And with it the rain came the night before.

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We decided in the morning to go, even though the skies were black and the clouds hung pregnant with water.  Instead of heading into the bush we thought that spending the weekend at an outfitter up the north road would give us the best chance of getting out quickly if we really got rained out.  For five dollars we got a camping spot with a galvanized fire ring and a picnic table.  The new tent had pretty much the same set-up as our old one and went up easily.  We would have gone fishing except some heavy duty waves rolled by the launch dock of the outfitter.  Our small boat was no match for those white caps. 

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We played some catch, went to look at the mounted fish on the walls of the main lodge and chased Ace around until my wife called that there was still super to be had and only so much daylight.  I think she was hoping for an early night to bed and an equally early wake up call to go to go fishing in the morning.  My new propane cook top was a dream I still wasn’t used to, no need to refill the tank half way through super.  Pan fries, onions , mushrooms and the ready, home made burgers were soon sizzling.  It got even darker as we were finishing super and the flicker of lightening to the western horizon served as warning.

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“Make sure we have everything we need in that tent,�?I told everyone.  “It looks like some boomers tonight and it just might get awful wet outside.  Even with the cooler in the tent there was ample room for the crowd.  Ace decided that what had worked well in the other tent would serve here also.  He choose his place by the right of the door.  Our propane lantern hung from a utility line I had rigged from tabs sewn into the tent across from each other.  The boys had a few comics and the adults always had books along.  Time went quick and it was midnight, time to tie the flap over the screen of the door incase it rained.  Everyone, including Ace, had taken a quick trip to the biffy, and I was tying the flap down when the first drops hit.  Big fat ones, a few at first, then increasing in volume until there was no point to speaking the tent.

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I warned everyone not to touch the walls of the tent because of leaks and was rewarded by a level look from Ace.  I could read that look easy.   It said, �?I>I’ve been in a tent before!�?/I>  As the tent filled with the sound of rain I drifted off to sleep.  I sleep like a babe cuddled in Mommy’s arms, when I hear rain on a tent.  The night wasn’t too much older when at about two into the morning the tent lite up like a shopping mall and huge rolling thunder walked across the area.  Then several crashing bolts turned the inside of the tent into daylight once more.  This stuff was really close.  For half an hour the heavens did their thing, then it got quite.  Again I drifted off to sleep.  Again I was woken up to a repeat performance of the wind, rain and thunder and lightning combination.  Three more times during the night the cycles of violence passed over us.  The last time I looked at my watch it was five thirty and should have been getting light.  I drifted off with the light rain drumming on the canvas of the tent.  We were dry; otherwise I’m sure I would have heard about it.

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I came slowly awake at about eight-thirty.  A sullen daylight filtered into the tent.  I got out quietly and only Ace followed me as I went to the biff.  The coffee pot was soon bubbling on the cook top.  A few drops of water landed on my fishing hat.  It wasn’t going to be nice today, and the tent didn’t appeal to me as an all day refuge from rain.  I looked about and noted the truck was positioned on the other side of the picnic table.  An idea came to me and I moved to check it out.   It turned out to be just what I needed to fight the rain gods.

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I tied the center of the twelve foot side, of the 12X14 tarp to the top tent bracket.  The two outside brackets took a tie each and we had a nice door arch for the tent.  Using some more thin rope I tied the tarp off to three points on the truck boat carrier.   The tarp made a beautiful room over the table, where the coffee was just starting to perk.  Two longer pieces of rope and tent pegs, from our old tent, stopped one free edge from flapping in the breeze.  The same treatment to the other side secured our little world.

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We never did get to go fishing that trip.  The radio we used kept warning of more thunderstorms rolling through and we played it safe.  We fired up the fire ring and did an all day picnic under our trap.  Other campers came by and we just nodded our heads when they talked of having everything they owned wet.  One tent in easy view was in fact sitting in it’s own puddle!  We had lots of company come over as the rains came and went during the day.  Our place was the only dry one around.  For that I thanked my Dad’s advise, a tent needs high ground and a boat needs water to float.  What the two have in common besides water I’m not sure, but it works for me.

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