farewell old buddy

[Crow Wing River, MN, 1993]

Tonight I had to dispose of my friend, my shield, my protector. We've known each other since when? 1990? And before that, my parents owned her.

I'm talking about my green and yellow Cabela's dome tent.

At least once a year, I'd take her with me to escape. She was my co-conspirator since I didn't want any human company. In college, we'd run away to the Crow Wing River where I saw my first eagle. In Massachusetts, we'd go west to Florida (there's a Florida, MA) where I'd leave her to pick wild blueberries. In Maine, it was to gorgeous Acadia. Brought her to Sylvan Lake in the Black Hills but had to break her down quick-like when a huge thunderstorm hit, and then turned around and hit again. Then there was the desert of Nevada where I parked her right near a dry riverbed and lay awake all night, thinking of all the ghosts ambling up the river. Many times we camped off Sonora Pass, north of Yosemite and a few times near Big Sur. Shoot. So many memories.

I didn't want to get rid of her but I could tell she was tired. Her zipper didn't work so well, she had more than a few ember burns, she leaked at the seams.. And today, when I took her out for my adventure to Oregon, well, let's just say she didn't smell so fresh. I had to come to terms with the fact that it's time to retire the old girl. Can I admit I cried a little?

My Cabela's tent represented freedom to me. She allowed me to have inexpensive escapes in some of the most beautiful places in America. After a trip with her, I would be content to exist in the city again.

I don't want a new tent, but if I have to, you know I'm heading straight back to Cabela's. And yes, green and yellow if you please. It's the least I could do.