I’ve always prided myself on being a rugged, winter-worthy guy. Many a night I’ve spent hunkered in my minus 20 degree sleeping bag while Arctic gusts pushed wind chills well below zero. There was always something raw and gritty about being tucked away in a snow cave or single-wall tent, far away from the comforts of society. But lately, there’s a little more grey in my beard, a little more sense in my head and perhaps a slight adjustment of priorities. Freezing nylon tents and the soft swoosh of Nordic skis are fine but my cold-weather hedonist is mulling over a new plan: a mighty snowmobile that can pull Cabela’s Ultimate Alaknak Tent into the middle of the mountains!
Imagine if you will being able to haul this canvas beauty up some remote forest road with your modestly quiet snowmobile (I’m not trying to go 100% redneck here). After a little set up work, including a *portable wood burning stove* you can set up a cushy cot, throw down a few sleeping bags for the dog and viola, instant backcountry bliss.
Why do I feel kind of guilty about digging this portable palace (I mean besides the price)? Was it the gas-powered, peace-shattering snowmobile? Nah, since I would be perfectly content cruising in on well-worn forest service roads on a relatively quiet machine. Was it the poshness of it all? The truth is, I’m kind of over dirtbag-style glamour, having paid my dues in various low-budget sufferfests, so I don’t think that was it either.
I think what it comes down to is the intended audience for the tent: they are designed for hunters. I’m a humble vegetarian and while the tent is whatever I make it, I feel weirdly responsible for killing Bambi’s mother should I indulge in such a shelter. (One of the advertisements on another site cheerfully proclaims: “Plenty of room for a gutting table!”) It’s goofy logic but I think it’s on par with a long-held aversion to snowmobiles; it’s the green thing to do, frowning upon mechanical intrusions of the pristine wilderness.
The fact is I kind of like snowmobiles. And I love being out in the winter. And sometimes I think it does my dreams good to get off my high-horse once in a while. That’s not saying I’m ready to save my pennies for this sweet, sweet setup but at least I can entertain the thought. Bear in mind if I had a gutting table, I’d use it to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
The question is: would I be a sell-out for upgrading from my Bibler tent to an on-the-go backcountry cabin? Hard to say, but the thought of that little wood burning fireplace warming the cold winter night while camped next to a diamond-hard, frozen, alpine lake seems like a slice of Colorado heaven. Instead of angels and devils on my shoulders I have Walt Whitman and Larry the Cable Guy.
So I ask you humble readers, exert your peer pressure: fancy-pants tent, yay or nay?
