truck cap

The Sound of Rain on the Truck Cap

I normally am not a fan of rain when I am camping. I don’t like getting wet, and rain can put a damper in plans to go hiking. I worry about rain washing out the roads, or making the mud so deep and slippery the roads become impassable and I’m stuck on whatever truck trail I am currently on.

My truck cap leaks. By at least one of the windows, the fiber glass has shrunk around the window — probably from my use of Sterno to heat the cap — and allowed water to leak in whenever it rains. The wet isn’t bad, but it does make it damp.

Campsite 21

The windows can’t be open when it rains — at least heavily — because of the slant to make the truck cap more aerodynamic. It gets humid under the cap, with no air flowing around to make up for the moist air I breathe out.

I worry about severe thunderstorms, as the I know laying in the steel truck bed, in a severe thunderstorm offers no protection from lightening, and the fiberglass would tear and shatter if a tree came down.

Through the Truck Cap Window

Yet, worst of all, it can be entrapping. There is relatively little room, especially with gear. I might have enough room to sleep in the truck cap, but it really isn’t big enough for doing any real living inside, with nowhere to stretch or move, without flipping down the tailgate.

Regardless, I kind of like the sound of rain on the truck cap. I can be loud, but it also is so soothing.

First Night in the Bed

Notes on the Re-Run for Friday, May 4th.

— Andy

This is a re-run from April 27, 2009, camping out at my parents house last year. This past weekend I put the cap on my truck, and look forward to the spring.

— Andy

Last night was the first night of the year I spent sleeping out in the bed of my pickup truck. I have the cap on, the sleeping pads and bags back in, an it was a delightful 75 degrees out last night. The weather was amazing, the stars where great, and I built a big campfire in the back field a ways from my parents house.

I had forgotten the wonders of the night. Sitting out and listening to the spring peepers and creek flowing by. Watching the flames flicker in the campfire. Swatting the black flies. Wandering around the field, looking at the stars and the distant city lights. Tossing stones over the creek bank into the stream 10 feet below.

As the fire burned on, I took off my clothes in the warm springtime eve air. I hopped in the creek, illuminated by the campfire. It was so refreshing after a warm summer day, and it cleared my thoughts. I could hear the owl in the distance, and the water bubbling down and over the rocks. It was so wonderful. I got out of the creek, and up the bank, and quickly dried off with the warm air.

Camping

I sat and listened to some old Gunsmoke radio programs I had downloaded to my Mp3 player and on my truck’s radio. The hours ticked by and the moon rose. It was almost 1 AM when I climbed in the bed of my truck, turned out the florescent lead lamp, slammed shut the tailgate and went to bed. I looked up through the back window of the truck cap at the stars and closed my eyes to sounds of the crickets.

Morning came, and I awoke with the hot sun beating down on my truck cap. It certainly was bright and beautiful out. I heard the neighbor’s cows mooing to be milked, and the occasional neigh of sheep and squeal of geese and hogs. Morning had arrived once again. I folded up my sleeping bag and moved things from the cab of my truck back to the bed, fired up the truck, and off I went on this beautiful warm spring morning.