Tent Design in the Modern World
By Cam Burns |
| Kelty Carport |
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| Nemo Hypno AR |
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| Wegner Lucerne II |
Similar questions can be asked of tent design. Why have poles traditionally been designed with outsized knuckles that hang up on and shred pole-sleeves? Why do many asymmetrical tents have tiny entries requiring stomping upon a fellow sleepee in order to access the inner position? Why do tents fit neatly in their stuff-sacks when you buy them, but after the first overnighter, it’s a brawl to get the shelter back in? And for that matter, why are tent stuff-sacks handle-less — making most of us tote them using the non-load-bearing drawstring?
I hadn’t meant to write about tents this issue — I’d planned to examine crazy products, like diapers for SCUBA-diving toddlers and hair-coloring for balding alpinists. But the tent industry has changed radically in recent years, and today’s puppies demand another look. Tents that attach to cars, tents that attach to other tents, tents for the disabled, tents for the fast, tents for the slow, tents for people without big Poles, tents for people who don’t know how to use poles, tents with inflatable poles, even tents for SCUBA-diving toddlers — well, you get the overstated idea. They’re all out there now, and they’re being made by people who were formerly designing things like gaiters and running undies. In briefs, this Schmear was pulled together to make you ponder your current nylon shack, think about what your intentions are and chew over what you need for the next trip.
Bright star
Auriga is a constellation in the Northern Hemisphere, located about 42 light years from Earth. The Auriga is also one of the bright stars of Outdoor Gear’s (OR) tent line, which is growing faster than Summit County’s roadside weed sampling. In the versatile Auriga ($249), the knuckle-less poles go directly into the fly-sheet (which can be quasi-permanently attached to the tent), so that this baby goes up fast. Its two pole sleeves are dedicated and single-ended, and they don’t share open space with other poles that want to fight for attention. After you’ve shoved them home, you’re basically done (just some staking, if needed). Though touted as a small two-manner (or a ménage-a-trois-er at a pinch), this compact tent boasts doors and vestibules on both sides negating the often-obligatory “uh-I-gotta-pee; move-your-ass” shenanigans at 3 a.m. Once up, it’s a quality erection. As OR’s website touts: “the freestanding Auriga remains strong in stiff winds …” Nuff said there. There are interesting keeper ties to the vestibule doors, and the stuff sack — finally, tentmakers are doing this! — is a classic burrito-wrap, ropebag-style repository, so when you’ve screwed up the packing, the sack will accommodate any amoebae-like shape you’ve wrangled it into. Bundled up (just the fly, canopy and poles), this sucker can go at 5.7 pounds; with the whole shebang (stakes, patch fabric, pole repair segments, etc., you’re looking at 6.6 pounds. Too bad Ron’s no longer with us to see this baby heading out on some fun trips. www.orgear.com
Nice port for a storm
When one of the PR folks from Kelty contacted me about the new Kelty Carport, I immediately thought: “Okay: looney on the line. Just be calm, kind and quiet, and maybe the rubber-room people will dose him up.” But, I’m the one that needs the sedatives now. This is a cool tent — ’scuse me: shelter. The carport is basically a nylon lean-to, designed to attach to the sides of various-sized automobiles, ranging from vans to mopeds. There is no floor in the thing, and the walls hardly hit the ground (wind blows through), but it boasts plenty of room (I store the snow machines in my Carport) and it makes for a fast hideout if you’re driving from Point A to Point B and get sleepy around A-. Most hard-driving types won’t care about the Carport’s weight (the medium ($200) weighs 4 pounds, 8 ounces) but those of you on yer bike might. The best thing about this sucker is its attachment design — it’s not overly precise. As easily as it can be fastened to a vehicle’s roof rack, it can be attached to a shopping cart, a headstone, a hospital gurney, or two upside down bar stools. I recommend you find a dumpster and tie one on. Highly endorsed for roadside dumping trips. www.kelty.com
Missing poles found not needed
MSR’s (Mountain Safety Research’s) Missing Link ($230) is one of the new breeds in tents that are becoming common: light suckers (sans poles) you can pitch with sticks, trekking poles, or dead fellow travelers (guy lines go ’round the gangrenous ears). Many companies are making ’em, and they — like this copy — can be good, bad, or crazy-ugly. First thing to understand with polethrifts like the Missing Link is that it takes a little bit of intelligence to erect. Somehow, I got it up. This single-walled tent is a geometry fan’s best friend: It forms something of a trapezoid that opens completely on one side with a huge awning for cooking, tugging off togs or slaughtering supper (could serve as a miniature bandstand, too). It stands solidly using five main guy lines (and two vertical anythings) and weighs a scant 3 pounds. A capable little shelter for anything a backwards (whoops! … woods) wallower might need.
www.msrcorp.com
Hello dolly
The folks at NEMO have finally done what we’ve all postulated for years: inflatable poles. The NEMO Hypno AR ($395; 3 pounds, 4 ounces) is a terrific little fast and light single-waller, capable of housing two normal people, one really fat bastard, or, as marketing director Chris Dickey notes: “up to four — well, at least four — masochistic adventure racers.” The inflatable “airbeams” — made from a textile that is a derivative of sailcloth called Dimension-Polyant — are no gimmick. Stout and abrasion-resistant, once swollen they are as sturdy as any metal or carbon-composite rods and, the best thing is, you can dive into the shelter and inflate the beams from inside. The 30-second inflation can be done by mouth, with NEMO’s 3-ounce Integrated Pump (you blow into a bladder, then squeeze it manually to generate the required 5–7 psi), or with the 4-ounce NEMOID Foot Pump, which can be squashed down to the size of a couple of energy bars. The air poles have quick-disconnect fittings, so there’s no wasted blow. So go ahead, stage your own little backcountry jihad and blow one up.
www.nemoequipment.com
Under the really big
big-top
When Frusilla and I go “family” camping, that usually means bringing along our eighteen Shetland ponies (shaved, of course, for the summer months). They used to languish under a dilapidated sheet of plywood, but now with Wegner’s Lucerne II ($280), they can all now enjoy a cozy night snuggled up with Fru and me (and the chickens). At 192 square feet, featuring two roomy rooms, this tent has all the amenities you’d look for in a trophy home on the range: two expansive bay windows with their own support systems, louvered front-and-back windows for adjustable ventilation, a hanging corner bookshelf, a doggie door, a shoe pocket, an e-port and too many other things to list here. The surprise was how easily this big phalla went up; the roof dome is separate from the six steel poles that support it, meaning you thread the dome, heave her up, and she’s good to go night-night (took about 20 minutes on the first try). At 48 pounds, 10 ounces, though, you’ll realize why a car, and car camping, is rated in terms of horses. The stuff sack is one of the cooler innovations: It’s a modified travel-wheelie bag with a beefy handle and a beating-resistant fabric. Superb for “managing” little kids who want to go berserk at the campground (bring a padlock). www.wengerna.com
Cam Burns wonders if quizzes are quizzical, what are tests? He can be reached at jonathanhemlock@hotmail.com
