Hey, I just spent a whole slug of money on a honey of a new camper trailer.
As I hurry to construct a place to park it next my garage I am apprehensive about the upcoming course in "Camper Trailers 101" which the dealer will conduct on the day we pick up our little home on wheels.
Why, you might ask, would I spend lotsa bucks on a camper trailer? Well, I answer you: because I had to do something to add a little ginger and snap to our lives. Spending money is always good therapy (and reason for it).
But, if the truth be known, blame the PNW. When we lived in California we camped on every square foot of state, national, and Forest Service park space in the entire state with our peg tent and accompanying dining fly house. Setting up may take three hours, but after that we were able to take advantage of the full length of our reservation in sunny days and balmy, campfire nights.
Enter our move to the Pacific Northwest a decade ago. I don't think our 9x12 Coleman tent has been dry since! Sure, we should have taken the hint when our first vacation outing was in a place called the "rain forest," but, duh, who pays attention to names?
Since then, every camp trip ends early as we are forced to fee incessant Oregon and Washington rain that seeps through the top of the tent at night and drips onto your nose.
Every trip, I have to go home and set the tent up in the yard for it to dry out. Every trip.
Last time, in a little stay on the Pacific Beach in mid-Oregon, our days in the sun were again cut short by, well, no sun, and cats and dogs of rain.
We fled again, and on the way home, we thrust our fists out the Suzuki window and declared "As God is our witness, We'll never be wet again!"
Ergo the search for a tent trailer since then. These nifty rigs are really tents on wheels, but more like little, protective houses when it comes to rain. And, ("the guy said") they only take 15 minutes to set up and take down!!
Now, I suspect that was sales hype, so I am planning on 20 minutes, max. But whatever, once I push the button to lift the roof, hook up to power and water, get the thing leveled, and push out the beds, we'll be camping free from the fear of rainfall.
How wonderful that will be!
Well, this weekend is the shakedown trip to Deep Lake in central western Washington. That's near Mt. St. Helens, so we only have volcanic lava and ash to worry about, but we can take one of those Volcano Escape Routes (they have those here, along with Tsunami Escape Routes), an merrily head in a safe direction.
I'm stoked and ready to camp in the rain as I sit smiling beating Sally at Uno beneath my little house with the heated (no kidding) beds, sipping black coffee, and laughing at tent campers at the next site sitting beside dead campfires in their ponchos.