It's anawesome guest write in from my good buddy Doug! Get ready to laugh hard!
So, there I was. . .
Camping near the top of a grassy bald near Buck’s Gap, just off the AT, above Roan Mountain State Park. The forecast was for a full moon and unseasonably cool weather, so I thought it would be really sweet to haul the dogs up there and sleep under the stars on the top of a mountain.
My only mistake, but one that would end up with exciting consequences, was that because I thought the dogs would want to sleep in the tent with me, I took my car-camping dome tent instead of my backpacking tent.
When I put the tent up, there was a pretty good breeze blowing. I put the tent entrance downwind thinking that if I put it upwind the tent would fill up like a parachute canopy and blow away. The main tent, which is mostly just a small screen porch, was holding up fine but the rain-fly grabbed too much wind so I was not able to put the rain fly on. I wadded it up and threw it inside the tent. Don’t worry, it never rained.
The next 5 or 6 hours were perfect. The moon shining on the Appalacians was magnificent. The dogs were having a blast and the coolness gave them energy that we do not normally see from them in the Summer. When they finally pooped out, they parked themselves on a rock outcropping, several yards away from my tent. I think they wanted no part of having to intimately listen to the flapping of my tent, in what I would now call a light and consistent wind. I took a couple Benadryls, which always knock me out, bedded into my 0 degree sleeping bag, and under a brilliant moon, quickly fell into a heavy sleep. There were no bugs, so I left the door to the tent wide open in case one of the dogs did eventually want to come join me. Don’t worry, no animals came in my tent.
I think it was the gale that woke me up, but it was my bladder that caused me to have to actually get up. While I was asleep, the clouds came in and the wind had doubled. It was 4:03 AM. The dogs had moved to the downwind side, base of the rock. They were wide awake and looking concerned. When I sat up out of my bag, they both shot up like they thought I might be heading back for the truck.
Remember how I left the door wide open? I hung my feet out that door to put my sandals on to keep the dirt out. I was probably still a little groggy and confused at this point, not realizing that my laying down was what was mostly holding that tent on the ground. The second my butt left the floor, wind got under the upwind side of the tent and it flipped up onto the door face, which dropped all its contents out the door. Once completely relieved of all of its anchoring baggage, the tent then took off in the wind and went tumbling down the mountainside like one of those giant snowballs you see in cartoons. The rain-fly, which I had wadded up and thrown in the tent, came billowing out on about the fourth tumble. It rose up into the air and mockingly danced around for a second as if it were a large orange ghost taunting me to chase it. Then it took off, downwind, but in a different direction than the tent.
So, there I was, standing on the side of a grassy mountain, at 4:03 AM, during a gale force wind, with a temperature in the 40s, in my skivvies, watching my tent and rain-fly run away. I don’t know what the dogs were thinking, but I will not be surprised if they never go into that tent ever again.
I managed to hang onto my sleeping bag and bed-pad. I put a big rock on them and managed, thank God, to fairly quickly find my pants and jacket. The moonlight was now gone so I wrote finding anything other than my rain-fly and tent off until daylight. They both flew/tumbled all the way to a tree line that was about 75 yards downhill from my campsite. I crammed the rain-fly into a crevice in some rocks. When I got to my tent, I loosened up the poles and weighted the now deflated tent down with some rocks.
Next, I hiked back up to my original campsite, wedged my bed-pad up against the rocks where the dogs had been, slid into my sleeping bag, and using my backpack as a headrest, I snuggled in with the dogs. I think I even got a little sleep.
You can imagine the collection process that I went through when daylight arrived. I managed to find my camera, binoculars, IPOD, cell phone, and headlamp. Forever gone, are a baseball cap, a bunch of pocket change, and the bag that holds my tent poles. Despite the calamity, my tent is completely intact. The dogs acted like they’d do the whole night over again if they could. With the noise that it was making during the night, I think they were glad to see the tent go.
