"This is living"

Another day in paradise was the thought as we greeted the morning.  Walked to the deck to touch its surface to see if the stain was still tacky. It felt and looked spectacular, although recommended dry time was 24-hours. Something less would have to do, we were not putting off the final set up that long.

Mikey was up stirring around. He’s a real gadget guy. Half the boxes on the trailer held a lot of his stuff. This morning I saw him leaning into the opened back hatch of the 4-Runner searching for his reel case. Must be time to fish.

We set out to cast a bit to let the stain dry further. Looking upstream from the dike road I could see a few ripples on the water surface just above the rocky check. We cast to a few risers, but somehow my heart was just not in it this morning. The draw of the deck and the completion of the project were too much. I looked at Mikey and said, “Let’s finish the job”. He said, “Go ahead, I’m fishing.” Since the final phase of the project was a two-man operation, I had to settle for casting to rising fish.

By early afternoon, and after hooking a few nice ones, I strolled back to the 4-Runner, opened the cooler and foraged for an apple and a Balance Bar. Rods stowed away, food in the belly, we redirected our efforts to the final push to set the Wall Tent onto the deck, and ultimately move in.

Its mid afternoon by now, the sky was beginning to cloud up with high wispy formations that cooled things down slightly and there was a faint breeze that gently cooled the sweat on the back of my neck. Welcome relief from the hot August sun. We dumped the contents of both canvas bags on the ground and sorted through the tangle of one-inch pipe pieces and connectors to lay out the frame. It went smoothly. It looked great sitting atop the deck, sort of like a framed house. The outline of the structure was impressive as the walls stood exactly five feet above the added foot for the deck; it traced the outline of the geometrical shape of what was to come shortly.

The canvas was heavy, yet supple as we worked at various approaches to lifting it over the rather tall frame. In the end we discovered that it was necessary to take off the vertical wall sections leaving only the roof so the canvas could be spread over the top while Mikey and I, from the inside, raised one end of the canvas covered roof section to insert the five-foot wall section raising it full height. After repeating the same on the other end, Mikey unzipped the mesh screen and the front opening and we walked out on to the deck. It was nearly perfect, except one corner had slipped off the deck and the whole thing went askew. After making numerous adjustments here and there, we secured the bottom of the tent by pounding nails through the holes in the metal grommets into the rim joist of the deck stretching the canvas tight for a nice fit. Mikey finished staking the sides as I started piling our stuff in side.

The tent site was situated just below the dike road that was elevated about a half dozen feet above the tent site grade. With an armful of stuff from the back of the 4-Runner I turned toward the tent deck and caught the scene from above it as I peered at this fully set up Wall Tent sitting on a finished deck against the back drop of a stand of cottonwood trees with the Tetons towering on the eastern horizon. I instinctively stopped and took notice. It was spectacular, exceeded my expectations, canvas, white as snow against the tall yellow August grass, the scene was epic.

The clouds were considerably darker to the south as the wind picked up and became gusty. The sky went from high scattered clouds to dark thick ominous looking formations signaling a gathering storm ahead. Things were secure so there was no concern there.

Moments later the sky began to rain down a bit at first until the wind velocity intensified in a matter of a minute or two. I grabbed the sleeping bags from off the deck and hurled them to Mikey who was setting up a couple of cots inside. Within a few of seconds the place was engulfed in an intense burst of drenching rain and howling winds. The deck clear of our stuff, and Mikey sorting through it all just inside the tent opening, I stepped inside, zipped it shut and began to set up my half of the tent.

The bay window, a rather nice feature, unzipped and my cot set up, I laid down looking out toward the Tetons watching the storm roll through. It was reassuring that the tent held up in this baptism by storm barely minutes following Mikey driving the last tent stake into the ground. This thing was sturdy, barely swaying in the howling gale.

The storm went on for most of the afternoon. We just hung out inside while it snapped off branches of the cottonwood tree and tossed them around the ranch. What a great way to finish this all up. We spend a day acquiring the material for the deck, build it, the next day, erect the tent frame, envelope the frame with new white canvas, secure it all safe and sound, dump our gear inside just in time for the storm of the summer to blast the hell out of the thing, while I lay on a cot inside watching this storm pound us for the entire afternoon, occasionally staring off to the east to view the Tetons jutting up out of the horizon, while I read several chapters of Bud’s novel.

I have to admit, this is living.