Up To Our Axles

 I remember that trip to Rock Cliff the year the dam was completed. The State considered it the crown jewel of the State Park system. The Provo River flows into the reservoir on the east side and just before it begins to back up and with the river still in its historical course, they built a rather magnificent campground. It’s a beauty. The latest thinking in campsite design, at the time. One unique feature was the way they constructed elevated tent sites, the surface of which was constructed with manufactured decking. It was clean to look at and it stood about eighteen inches above grade. We set up the Kelty and enjoyed a couple of days playing with the kids and hooking nice fish on the river.

I’m pulling out of Kirkham’s with a 10 X 12 white canvas duck bag containing the new Wall Tent, delighted in the discovery of the thing and the prospect of providing a more civilized place to live out the rest of the season.

An imagination in overdrive is a beautiful thing. Passing beneath the I-80 overpass on State Street just a few minutes after leaving Kirkham’s, the image of the white canvas tent sitting atop an elevated deck had taken full form inside my head. That’s it. We’ll build a deck and fasten the tent on top. It will be clean, comfy, sophisticated and as cool as the pic in the ad that spawned the whole idea to begin with. Rock Cliff redux, except, this scheme included an oversize deck that would extend well beyond the tent footprint; we’d build a double sized deck, half to accommodate the Wall Tent, the other half to stage all of our adventures, lounge on or just to stand atop and admire our kingdom. This was going to be very cool.

Mikey had a garage full of tools. The only problem, we’d need to sort through piles of stuff to find the right ones. Drills, table saw, walls full of hammers, wrenches, saws, blades of all kinds of implements, gadgets and tools hanging from one of those brown peg boards’ handy guys hang things from. Box after box of electrical cords, carpenter belts, paint cans and bungee cords. It was a mass of confusion piled over years of accumulation. I told him, “Somewhere in there we might find your BMW R1100RT bike that you no longer ride”. “He took offense”. Some things just aren’t that funny.

But best of all, he had a trailer. After a couple of hours sorting and sifting though it all, we loaded it with boxes of tools and equipment and headed to the ranch. En route an order for lumber and nails was placed at the big lumber store in Rexburg with delivery scheduled for the following morning. If the trailer didn’t blow a tire on the way, we were set to construct the deck and mount the tent in the morning.

Mikey’s great, I love the guy. We share the same set of parents. Generous to a fault, he’ll give you the shirt off his back, if he can find it. Thing is, he’s occasionally forgetful. He’ll stop at the store to buy a diet coke, only to discover there is a nearly full cup of the same sitting in the cup holder in his car. He’ll go into a fly shop, quietly search and find the things he needs, pay at the register, then turn around and walk out. At Jimmy’s one day, the sales guy came running out of the shop with a bag in hand as Mikey’s backing the Four Runner into the street. It happens on a regular basis. All the same, Mikey is a real pal and always a kick to hang with.

The morning sun came early as we rolled out of our bags. Even that early you could tell it was going to be a hot one. At about mid morning, I ran up the dike road to open the gate as the lumber truck approached. I hopped in the cab and told the driver to cut through the pasture and drive to the north end just past the big cottonwood tree. Once past the tree the rear wheels began to spin. Instinctively, he gave her more gas as the rear of the truck settled axle deep into the softer sand just beyond the pasture.

 

We took turns shoveling and laying old fence posts under the wheels, too much weight for the sandy conditions. The driver jumped into the cab, started the engine, yelling over the loud rev to us to get out of the way, then lifted the loaded truck bed to dump the load. Ten and twelve foot 2 X 6’s slid off the back onto the soft sand. We dug all four wheels, fore and aft, placed more old fence posts in each trench hoping there would be enough traction for the truck to climb out of the hole it was in. With great anticipation the truck slowly began to roll forward onto the old fence posts as it gently lifted up and out of the trenches. I yelled to the drive to keep going and don’t look back. He flipped a U-turn then took off stopping about a hundred yards into the pasture. We did a little paper work and he was out of there.

After lugging 2 by’s forty yards to the new site, we realized we had spent nearly two hours of extra fun in the sun we had not intended to spend. All the same, as we began to lay things out, things were beginning to take shape.

It went faster if we didn’t screw every board to the joists on the first pass. We had a couple of days to work finish that task later. It was important that we roll a coat of clear natural stain over the top to ensure some level of protection for the decking. The sun had set and we just rolled the last gallon of stain when we’d had enough for one day. Tomorrow we’d finish the job.