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Trading Up

By Susan Oloier

With the approach of warmer weather, it was time to reassess our camping needs. In short, it was time to say goodbye to a sometimes good friend: our tent. Indeed, it saw us through many nights last summer in Telluride, Ouray, and Moab, but we already were experiencing growing pains with two adults and two young boys. The tent seemed somehow unwilling to grow with us. So in its bag it will remain this year; we bought a tent trailer to replace it. Sure, in many ways it is a betrayal - not only of the tent itself, but of the old ways.

In our pre-kid years, Jeff and I camped in a two-person backpacking tent. In those days, digging a cat hole was not unusual. We even spent a month on the road, sleeping in the back of our Suburban, buying a shower when it was available, caring little if it was not. Maybe we had been spoiled by owning and living in a motor home for fourteen months, but I think it is more than that.

We tried to make things work with our tent last year, but things began to unravel when the zipper broke and could not be repaired easily. This, of course, was probably just an excuse to ditch it and its nylon, but there were other problems, as well. As we laboriously set up the tent at each new location, we enviously watched others deploy their campers with ease. We quelled our desire to sleep off the ground and inside the walls of a tent trailer. We hauled our sleeping bags, Thermarests, and pillows out of the vehicle and stuffed them into the tent along with our jealousy. There was so much convenience associated with those campers; so much less hassle.

In addition to the ease that a tent trailer would bring, we knew we no longer would have to squeeze duffle bags and Camelbaks into the already-cramped space; there would be plenty of it in a pop-up. We wouldn't have to line up like sardines in a can, crossing our fingers that all four of us would simultaneously receive a good night's sleep.

As we prepared for our first outing with the camper, I pulled out all of the necessary gear. There sat the tent in its bag, and I found myself giving it a reassuring pat as if I left an old, dear friend behind on the shelf. Fishing out the sleeping bags, I came across the Thermarests. Sorry guys. You, too, must remain behind.

We decided to take this new tent trailer on a test run - a first date, of sorts - to see how it met our needs. We chose to stay relatively close to home in case there were any glitches, opting for Transfer Park near Lemon Reservoir. We wanted to venture further away, but rain was in the forecast, so it felt like a good place to experiment with the new camping set up.

Even though we weren't in a hurry, it seemed to take an endless amount of time to negotiate our way into our campsite. With our old friend (the tent), we just pulled in and started setting up. The camper was more high-maintenance. We had to back in and pull forward, repeating the process until we found just the right spot.

While it seemed that setting up the tent trailer would be much easier than putting up the tent, it was not the piece of perfection that we had dreamed. It took over an hour to make it livable. And, during our stay, the temperatures dropped into the 20's at night. While we luxuriated in the comfort of propane heat on the first night, we ran out of it by morning. Jeff had to drive home to retrieve more. Luckily, we didn't go too far from home. Before children, we easily would have tolerated the cold. But with kids come different needs.

At the end of our second day, we elected to try out the shower (yes, it has a shower). By the end of our second day, we ran out of water, too. The campground had not yet turned on their water source. Fortunately, we brought an extra container for just this situation. We poured into the pop-up water tank, which sucked it down like a cheap Cabernet. When we turned on the tap - reaching for the metaphorical wine bottle - there was nothing. The pump stopped functioning. Jeff drained the contents of the water tank back into the container so we would have something to drink during the remainder of our trip.

After our weekend outing, we feel as though we are coming to know the idiosyncrasies and quirks of our new travel companion. But like an old photo of a lost love, we refuse to completely let go of the tent by selling it on eBay or placing a price tag on it at a yard sale. Who knows? There may be a time and place where our tent will be useful - and loved - again.