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On my family's first ever camping trip, my older brother
demonstrated for the whole family what not to do when sleeping
in a tent during a rainstorm. Finding the side of the canvas
tent made a hammocky support, he leaned against it all night
long. His sleeping bag became a wick to draw water into the
tent, eventually causing a small flood within. In the morning
his sleeping bag was sodden.
This was a serious problem. We were embarked on a several
week camping trip. The old Rambler station wagon was crammed
with supplies. Everything had to be stowed in a certain
manner or there wasn't room for the family. In addition to
the sopping sleeping bag, there was the wet tent and various
damp items. Not only were we going to need them again the
very next night, but there wasn't room to spread them out in
the car. Nor would my dad let the tent be folded up damp--it
would get moldy and ruined, he said.
He parked the station wagon in the sun and strung ropes to
trees. Under his direction, the tent was collapsed. Every bit
of debris and mud was swept off. He draped the tent over the
ropes. Pillows and other damp items were put on the hood to
dry. He got on one end of my brother's sleeping bag, and my
brother and I got on the other. We started twisting it. We
twisted and twisted it, until I could no longer hold it. We
got a lot of the water out but it was still pretty bad. We
draped it over another rope and then ate breakfast.
My dad did all the cooking on camping trips. That breakfast
was pretty good. We had pancakes and bacon and Tang orange
drink. By the time we'd eaten, and got the dry stuff packed,
the tent was almost dry, and the stuff on the hood of the car
was pretty dry. It was June and we were still in Texas, so by
eight in the morning the temperature was already over 100.
The rainstorm was some total freak of nature, I guess.
I know my parents argued about what to do with the still
sodden sleeping bag. One idea was to shut it in the back door
of the station wagon and just let it flap behind as we drove
down the interstate. I think Dad was just kidding, though.
He put down a tarp over the stuff in the back of the station
wagon and we all climbed in to the car. Dave and I were being
very quiet because Mom was still steamed. The baby was
grouchy, too. Despite the heat, the atmosphere in the car was
rather frosty with the parents being terribly polite to one
another. We drove for about an hour.
Suddenly, Dad took an exit leading to a small town. Right
next to a small grocery store was a laundromat. Dad chunked
out some change from his coin dispenser and in no time at all,
the sleeping bag and various other items were dry. We
finished drying the tent at our next campsite before we went
to bed.
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