Inevitably “tourists” arrived. This is a beautiful place and it’s game season. I knew there would be more action that usual. Even so, I’d underestimated the draw.
All morning, UTVs with 2 or 4 people each kept showing up. It was always the same, the first thing they’d do is run for the outhouse. Then they’d wander off at a much more relaxed pace. There are more UTVs out there than you’d think.
One notable group was a grandma/grandpa set in a shiny new UTV followed by a beaming kid on an archaic 3 wheeler (ATC). Don’t go all safety nerd on me, the kid was riding it just fine. And boy did he look happy!
A few people rolled by very slowly to peer at my tent (which is unusual in design). They did this while failing to address me, the dude sipping coffee right next to the object of interest, how gauche!
One lady emerged from the outhouse and then made a beeline to my camp to look at “the little hut”. She had a chicken and wondered if a tent like that would keep it warm. I suppose so, but it would be the most expensive chicken coop in creation. I offered that if it keeps me alive it’ll keep a chicken alive but for my chickens I just make sure I’ve got enough chickens that they can huddle together. Keeping one chicken warm is hard, keeping 6 or 12 is no problem at all. She ignored my practical idea, which sums up 2022 precisely. We talked about ice roads for a while and then she wandered off. Her chicken must be a hell of a pet.
One fellow stopped and gave me a thumbs up. He had a question; “Is that a Russian tent?”
“Yes it is.”
“Nice.” He enthused. Then he added one more thing. “Fuck politics, I like that Russian tent.” Almost like he was afraid he’d get caught having committed Crimespeak he immediately clammed up and rolled his UTV out of there. Poor guy.
Having encountered a guy afraid of the entire topic, I ponder the Russian angle to what should be peaceful camping equipment. I bought the tent for several irrational reasons; none of which were geopolitical. I don’t have anything against the people of Russia. I think they suffered enough within the Soviet Union; which is gone. It’s not 1962; Khrushchev, Castro, and Kennedy are all dead. I feel like nobody knows the USSR no longer exists and the the Russian Federation is a different thing.
Back on the topic of the tent, I shocked myself at my own commitment when I spent the money. It simply felt right and I did it. It was only a few months after the Afghanistan retreat and not 6 months before a new improved war popped up. There’s always a new improved war. Would sanctions have interfered with the purchase? No idea. Was the eternal calling my bluff? I don’t know that either. How would a man know that?
It’s clearly of Russian origin but it’s built to very high standards. It’s rare. It’s not something you’d find at Gander Mountain. I think that’s funny because a lot of the stuff at Gander Mountain is made in China. I don’t know if I only had one shot to own this tent. I know I’m glad I made the leap when it felt right.
I spent a scandalous length of time making an overly elaborate breakfast. This was a form of procrastination. I really am tired from “life”. I was just out of steam. I had brought my motorcycle (“Honey Badger”) and I’m equipped to take the little beast on trails looking for game birds. But there’s a time when the right thing to do is to percolate coffee and do nothing. It was a decision made as much by my body as my mind.
I began reading a tattered old paperback. Robinson Crusoe!
Soon a new kind of tourist began filtering in. Bird hunters started arriving. UTV’s with 2 or 4 orange clad, shotgun toting bird slayers made the same beeline to the same outhouse as the “tourists”; but they did it with more armaments. Pretty soon so many groups of UTVs had shown up that I couldn’t tell when one cluster left and the next arrived.
I’d only read the first chapter of Robinson Crusoe when the onslaught of people finally drove me into motion. With coffee perking lazily on the fire I was set to read all through a chilly but pretty day. I gave up when three UTV’s (some with four seats) showed up toting a grand total of 5 men, 2 women, and 2 dogs. How many birds are out there?
I rolled my motorcycle off the trailer and prepared to go… somewhere. Alas, I discovered an annoying maintenance issue. The chain was too slack. The proper solution is to jack it up on a bike stand (which I don’t own) so the rear tire is suspended. After it’s suspended loosen the rear axle and twist a couple of “snail brackets” to push the rear axle back a bit. It’s not complicated.
Last time I did this while camping I used an old tree stump to elevate the bike. It worked. This time there were no appropriate stumps. That made the simple task into a struggle.
I strove mightily, finally solving the situation by balancing the bike on front tire and kickstand while perilously leaning it over my hunched shoulders just enough to lift the rear tire off the ground. It was a dumb, dangerous, solution and hard work too. However, it got the job done. I lubed the (now tight) chain, checked the gas, loaded the usual survival equipment (I ride loaded for bear), and was ready to go.
Frankly I was pleased I’d solved the chain dilemma. “Nothing has worked out but everything has been more or less drama free” I thought. Everything could have been a disaster but I’d handled each new issue like I knew what I was doing. Nice.
Then I made a discovery that kyboshed everything.
The truck was on a flat! Not cool when you’re a million miles from nowhere! (As a practical matter a rear flat on a dually is something I could probably ignore it enough to limp to a garage. Not that there were any garages anywhere nearby.) I wanted to ignore it and simply ride away on Honey Badger; let “tomorrow Curmudgeon” deal with it.
But it was better to deal with the task at hand when many people were around. There were six people hanging around the outhouse. Including a sweet old retired couple cooking a picnic on a little BBQ. Something could go wrong. If that happened it would be advantageous to my safety. Also, what if I needed to haul the tire to a shop? My motorcycle can get me to civilization but it can’t haul a truck tire. There was a chance I’d need to beg a favor!
I lowered the spare, checked that it was holding pressure (it was, and frankly it’s nicer than my other tires), and started struggling with lug nuts. 8 lug nuts sounds cool until you have to do them by hand. I jacked up the truck, swapped the tires, re-installed the lugs, set her down, and retorqued the lug nuts. That doesn’t sound like much but it was quite a workout.
I’d started the weekend already tired. Then I’d done some light motorcycle fiddling. I’d followed up by swapping the rear tire on a truck that’s just about as big as consumer trucks get. I was out of steam!
I also noticed something, the instant my truck was in the air EVERYONE VANISHED. Literally dozens of people coming and going TURNED INTO NOBODY AT ALL. What’s up with that?
Well I’m used to working without a net so no big deal. I’d done all that grunting and lug nut torqueing without so much as a nod from any of the UTV people. There’s no mystery in that. The UTV people that might have been incoming seemed to know to go elsewhere. Now that’s a mystery.
More in the next post…
That just doesn’t seem right! You should have had two guys helping, and three or four more standing back giving advice. Where has America gone? It was the russian tent, perhaps? :))
Maybe that’s why nothing stupid happened while changing the tire? I didn’t have an “audience”.
OK, you did it! Satisfied? (Get thee behind me, Curmudgeon).
I didn’t get your Russian palace (my bank manager just gave me ‘the look’), just a (white*) Luxe Megahorn 3, so much lighter than my Tentipi and Savotta … (and a new Winnerwell stove, and a new expedition Skipulk to go with my newish OAC KAR 149 skishoes). My bank balance is in shock although local retailers would like to thank you profusely.
[*The white is more expensive since it is “silvered” on the inside to ‘supposedly’ reduce radiation losses, and is less ‘fashionable’ since apparently only ‘idiots’ like me go camping in areas where white is the predominant colour]
Hardangervidda here I come (yet again, and the North Slope once I can afford the shipping).
Your “tourist/hunter” issue is (from my limited experience) an almost uniquely CONUS related phenomenon. Most places you have ‘tourist areas’ (where you queue to walk up a hill) and ‘wilderness’, only there (and certain parts of Australia) do you get ‘mass’ seasonal/date influxes of ‘crowds’ in defined wilderness – but then limited to a set distance from a parking lot/camp site (past experience was that a mile away you could be alone on the planet). Most places I frequent the issue tends to be the opposite (especially in winter), the automatic magnetism exerted, gravitating towards each other, when you see someone in the distance, because you haven’t seen a soul for three weeks and you want to see if you still remember how to talk.
But … how do you manage to get away from the crowd when you use a motorbike? I’ve been ‘considering’ (or my bank manager has at least) something like pasqadventure.com’s products. Now if I could only win the lottery I could transport (what has become in my dotage) the ‘necessities’ for maintaining the level of comfort I have become used to.
Awesome! I’m a bad influence!
I hope you have a great time with your tent. I’ve never used a skipulk. My snowshoes are old and worn and my cross country skis are long gone, but I’ve never heard of skishoes. If I had the money I’d go all out and have a snowmobile but that’s not in the budget. I’ll Google skishoes when I’m back in decent WiFi range.
The hunter/tourist thing is definitely very American. I kind of like it in theory but prefer to be alone in practice. When I say wilderness I don’t always mean the legal designation. In the US some places are a zillion miles from nowhere but still just “National Forest” or some other less impressive title. Similar in Canada with “Crown Lands”. I actually prefer them to true designated wilderness because (ironically) it often has fewer people and almost always has fewer restrictions.
I’d like to comment more but I’m in a place with bad WiFi. Please report back on your camping adventures. I like knowing I’m not the only one doing a hot tent.
As Rosanne Rosannadanna said, “It’s always something. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”. Glad you survived changing the tire. At least you were able to get the lug nuts off without snapping a lug bolt.
Surprisingly, the lugs on my huge truck aren’t as prone to being “seized up” as on the many junkers I’ve owned over the years. That’s a good thing indeed. I once had a vehicle with “California rims” and even tire guys were jumpy around that beast. They approached it like it was a land mine.
On the chain issue, simply add two ratchet-straps to your collection. In a pinch they make a fine improvised winch. Find a tree with a decent limb, attach ratchet straps to limb and rear frame, ratchet the rear wheel off the ground and level by adjusting each. Adjust chain tension side, fire the motor and place into some convenient gear, adjust slack side so that the chain naturally aligns with the rear sprocket on top and bottom. Tighten axle nuts, re-check alignment, stow straps. Done. Those straps can be used to winch the bike out of a mud pit or into the back of the truck should the need arise, and they make a handy hammock mount, one helluva lashing mechanism, or an improvised tourniquette should an emergency arise. I have at least two on every one of my motorcycles for just such an inconvenience.
That’s a good idea!