My friends Kim and Greg went camping on Mount Diablo (in California) with their kids recently, recording the fun on their blog.
Many years ago (well before kids, when I was living in Berkeley and doing my Ph.D.), I went camping on Mount Diablo with Kim and Greg. I packed all of my camping equipment onto a large hump on the back of my motorcycle and scooted over to Contra Costa County and up the mountain. We went on a nice hike and returned to the campsite for dinner and more conversation.
I found a great spot for my tent, in a nice bed of dried pine needles. When I set up my tent, I decided to leave off the rain flap, since it was so warm and because there was no rain in the forecast. (And let me tell you that rain is exceedingly rare during the summer in Berkeley. That made it very nice and very safe for Ekrem and Leanne to plan an outdoor wedding, for example. I felt it would also be safe for me to leave off the rain flap.)
Sleeping was very nice, after the long hike. Sadly, though, and perhaps due to my prior hubris, it started to rain that night. I woke up at 3 a.m. to a steady rain falling on my tent. With no rain flap to stop it, the rainwater started to seep through the tent material and onto me. At dawn, it was still raining, and I was wet and cold and miserable.
As the sun was rising, I decided that getting any more sleep would be impossible, but that getting up and changing into some dry clothes would improve my condition at least somewhat. I figured I would get up, run to the latrine through the rain in my wet clothes, and then return to replace my wet clothing. I unzipped the tent flap, stepped out into the rain, and then took another step onto completely dry ground. I looked up amazed at a clear, blue sky. I looked back at my tent, which was sitting in a perfect circle of wet ground underneath the pine tree.
It turns out that pine trees are very good at collecting fog and dripping the moisture down to make it available to their root systems. So really, it wasn't raining anywhere. It was just a foggy night, and I cleverly placed my tent in the 0.1% of the campground that got soaked. Kim and Greg had a hearty laugh at my expense over breakfast.
Many years ago (well before kids, when I was living in Berkeley and doing my Ph.D.), I went camping on Mount Diablo with Kim and Greg. I packed all of my camping equipment onto a large hump on the back of my motorcycle and scooted over to Contra Costa County and up the mountain. We went on a nice hike and returned to the campsite for dinner and more conversation.
I found a great spot for my tent, in a nice bed of dried pine needles. When I set up my tent, I decided to leave off the rain flap, since it was so warm and because there was no rain in the forecast. (And let me tell you that rain is exceedingly rare during the summer in Berkeley. That made it very nice and very safe for Ekrem and Leanne to plan an outdoor wedding, for example. I felt it would also be safe for me to leave off the rain flap.)
Sleeping was very nice, after the long hike. Sadly, though, and perhaps due to my prior hubris, it started to rain that night. I woke up at 3 a.m. to a steady rain falling on my tent. With no rain flap to stop it, the rainwater started to seep through the tent material and onto me. At dawn, it was still raining, and I was wet and cold and miserable.
As the sun was rising, I decided that getting any more sleep would be impossible, but that getting up and changing into some dry clothes would improve my condition at least somewhat. I figured I would get up, run to the latrine through the rain in my wet clothes, and then return to replace my wet clothing. I unzipped the tent flap, stepped out into the rain, and then took another step onto completely dry ground. I looked up amazed at a clear, blue sky. I looked back at my tent, which was sitting in a perfect circle of wet ground underneath the pine tree.
It turns out that pine trees are very good at collecting fog and dripping the moisture down to make it available to their root systems. So really, it wasn't raining anywhere. It was just a foggy night, and I cleverly placed my tent in the 0.1% of the campground that got soaked. Kim and Greg had a hearty laugh at my expense over breakfast.
Fun story, Michael. I was surprised to hear you had a motorcycle, and that you could have ever been unaware of something pseudo-scientific, like the water propensities of pine trees!
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