Where is the rain ?

Some things go together like bacon and eggs, like cake and more cake, and with me it’s fishing in New Zealand and rain. Lots and lots of rain.

There is another common factor here. Everyone meet Steve (names have been changed to prevent hissy fits and me sleeping under a tree on forthcoming fishing trips. I swear).  If a trip involves any combo of ‘Steve’, me and the great outdoors there will be an epic of some kind.

The theme for our last two fishing trips has been tents. To be more specific tents that have an aversion to keeping water out.

To be fair the last trip was in winter, but it did rain the entire time and we ended up with three tarps covering the two man tent, and then the water still managed to turn the tent into a bath tub. Which ended up with me curled up on my sleeping mat surrounded by water and ‘Steve’ in the back of the truck.

This time we were off to a good start. Different tent, freshly waterproofed.  First night no rain. Best nights sleep ever.

Second night bit of rain in the afternoon, getting a bit heavier in the evening. No dramas, we have a freshly  waterproofed tent. Boom. Get into the tent and the  roof is covered in little Christmas like baubles of rain. Hmmm. Out we go, tarp goes on. The rain gets heavier.

A few hours later I wake up with a sweaty right calf. Hmmm that’s odd. Back to sleep. A little while later – groundhog day. Check the inside of the bag, no feels dry,  putting it down to one of the unsolved mysterys of the universe, I go back to sleep.

The tent lights up and I finally make a move, still with a sweaty right calf (at this point I am still convinced that my sweaty right calf issue could keep scientist’s in research grants for years). I sit  up and put my hand down on the bottom of the mattress to discover it has turned into a giant sponge. Of course I am having flashbacks to the  last trip, so imagine my surprise when I open the tent door to find no moisture falling from the sky, no dude with a big stick herding animals into a giant canoe, and no need to put waders on to eat breakfast. To say I am happy would be an understatement.

This is where it gets weird. The sky’s clear, the days warm, and this just goes on day after day. I am not quite sure what to do. Not being wet, not walking around in mud and just not suffering is not something ‘Steve’ and I  am used to.

I have to say I reckon we could get used to it through….

 

 

 

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