Rain Fly Support System, Version 3.0

A few months ago I tried a new design for my rain fly support system. It consisted of two vertical 4x4 posts and a horizontal 25-foot cross piece running from post to post. It worked great...for about two days...then it failed miserably.The cross piece was just too flimsy. It twisted and turned and finally cracked.

I posted the failure on Facebook. Some of my friends consoled me. Others offered suggestions. I was already thinking about building a sturdier cross piece, something like a light structural beam, and many of my friends offered similar suggestions. Then my son, Boston, suggested a different approach:

"I think a compression member is asking for trouble. Why not a thick, strong rope under tension instead of a beam? Keep the 4x4 posts at the gable ends for compression, and turnbuckle the beam rope on the ground. Less weight over your head if it fails, too."

As soon as I read his post I knew he was on the right track.

I drilled 1/2" holes at the top of each 4x4 post and ran 50' of 1/2" twisted nylon rope from post to post. The rope has a 600 lbs working load. I intended to put 200 lbs of tension on the rope to keep it flat. That would leave 400 lbs for snow load.

Sighting down the rope from the front post, 14 feet off the ground

I staked the ends of the rope to the ground using two, 2 1/2' x 3/4" pipes at each end, and rigged a sort of block-and-tackle on the rope using four D-rings. I pulled the rope taut.

Block-and-tackle made from D-rings

The block-and-tackle worked well and I was able to get the rope pretty flat, which in turn keeps the rain fly smooth and stationary.

Rope in place, anchored, and pulled taut

I draped the rain fly over the rope and staked it down.

The finished rain fly

Water

Of all the modern convenience that I left behind when I moved into a tent, running water is what I miss the most. No electricity? No problem. Earth closet for my tent toilet? Well...okay. Heat with wood? Cook with gas? Sure. Drink warm beer in the summertime? I suppose I'm even used to that now. But carrying in containers of water is pretty inconvenient.

It turns out that finding a water supply is fairly easy, and we're all very lucky in this country that clean water is so readily available. Most people are happy to let me use their outdoor spigot. I found that out last November when I first started living this way. I was looking for a water supply and I noticed a spigot outside of a country store. I went in and bought a few items and started talking to the store clerk. I explained that I was camping in the area and needed to occasionally fill my water containers. They said, "Sure, help yourself!" From that day on, I made it a point to be a good customer at that place, and gave the clerk a dollar each time I filled a container. I'm sure they referred to me as "the water guy".

At my current location in Brandy Station, my landlord let's me use his hose spigots anytime I want. The closest one is on his guest cottage which is about 150 yards from my tent. It's a nice walk, especially carrying 7 gallons of water.

Filling up at my landlord's place

And that's one of the things that I really appreciate about water: it's *heavy*! One gallon weighs a little over 8 lbs, which means my 7 gallon container is almost 60 lbs when full. That's heavy enough to really knock you off balance when you carry just one container. And while carrying two gives you nice balance, it's over 100 lbs! And for some reason I just can't seem to fill those containers part way. I'm always compelled to fill them to the top. That's because water is so precious to me now.

I use Aqua-Tainers to carry my water. They're tough, and the spigots hold up well. I have two, one in my bathroom and another in my living area.

7-gallon Aqua-Tainer

My average water consumption is about 3 gallons per day. Here's the breakdown:

• Bathing: 1.5 gallons. I take sponge baths.
• Cleaning: 2 quarts. I do dishes every few days, which takes about 1.5 gallons.
• Cooking: 2 quarts. A pot of coffee, and maybe rinsing some veggies.
• Toilet: 1 quart. My tent toilet is an earth closet which consumes no water, but I urinate in a dump sink and flush each time with a cup of water.

In the summer, my water consumption increases a lot. That's because I often take two baths a day, and I typically use more water for each bath since I go outdoors and pour cold water directly over my head. Those are 2-gallon baths, and that gets me to around 5 gallons per day in the summer.

In my tent, each cup of water is precious to me, and I've gotten very good at putting every single drop to work. For example, I rinse my soapy hands with just a 1/2 cup of water. And it takes less than a gallon to rinse a full drainer of dishes. When I shampoo, I use 1 cup to wet my hair, and 2 more to rinse it.

But my extreme sensitivity to water conservation disappears when I'm back in a conventional house. For example, when I'm staying with friends I'll take long, guilt-free hot showers and enjoy each moment. And I'll often leave the water running while I brush my teeth. That's because I don't have to carry the water that I'm using there so there's no real penalty for wasting it. (Hmmm...no penalty for waste. Now that's a topic for another post!)

Late Summer, Early Fall

It was 58 degrees this morning as I began taking my clothes off to bath. I would bath indoors today. With warm water. It was just a few days ago when I bathed outside, dumping cold water over my head and body. Enjoying the invigorating sensations and looking forward to staying cool for sometime after my bath. But not this morning. Today I would heat my water. And light the kerosene heater that gets so much use in the fall.

Driving out the morning chill

As I walked around the tent barefoot, sipping my morning coffee, waiting for my pot of bath water to warm on the gas burner, I noticed that my feet were uncomfortably cold. The rest of my body was fairly comfortable on this cool morning, but my feet were just a bit too cold. Then I remembered, "Oh yeah that's right, my feet are always cold in the winter."

I thought back to last winter and how I was able to warm up the tent quite well, even on the coldest of days, but how the uninsulated floor always remained so damn cold. By January, I would be acclimated to the cold again, and I would once again walk comfortably in stocking feet, or even bare feet. But it would take weeks to adjust to winter's cold, just as it had taken time to adjust to summer's heat. I knew the secret was to expose the body to extreme temperatures as often and for as long as tolerable. I knew that. And I knew I shouldn't be lighting the kerosene so soon. Warm water, yes. But I should bath in the 58 degree air and let myself be chilled by it. I should start acclimating now, in September.

But I lit the kerosene anyway.

Soon, it was 80 degrees in the tent, and I was able to forget that this was September. And that colder and colder air would soon be coming. And that the heat of summer was all but over. I enjoyed a nice, warm, comfortable bath and kept the door closed. Soon the door would be closed all the time, and the woodstove would be installed, and the tent would be feeling much smaller. But I put those thoughts out of my head, at least for this September morning.

My Tent Toilet

WARNING! This post contains graphic descriptions of human solid waste disposal. If you find this topic offensive or repulsive, then please do not read this post!

Well, the time has come to talk about one of the more delicate topics of tent living: What to do about human solid waste.

How to dispose of human feces is an age-old problem. It's as old as the problem of gathering food, or staying warm and dry. It's one of the basic problems of human existence. Throughout the ages there have been a number of solutions. The most common solution in the US today is the flush toilet, also known as the water closet. Another familiar solution, especially in rural areas, is the pit toilet or "outhouse". The composting toilet is also gaining popularity.

But when it comes to outfitting a tent with a toilet, there are some unique challenges. How do you comply with local health regulations while at the same time maintaining a light footprint on the land? Turns out that's not an easy task.

My search for an effective waste disposal system started by considering a number of options:

• Flush toilet (aka water closet). The ubiquitous ceramic toilet found in nearly every American home (and all the plumbing that goes with it!)
• Pit toilet (aka "outhouse"). That cute little wooden house with the moon on the door
• Composting toilet. Dry toilet designed to encourage aerobic composting
• Chamber pot. Container that collects feces. Requires a separate means of disposal
• Earth closet. Dry toilet that collects feces. Requires a separate means of disposal

Some of these systems, like the pit toilet or composting toilet, are "all-in-one" solutions whereby the waste enters the system and stays in the system. Others, like the flush toilet or chamber pot, require an additional "down stream" disposal system, such as:

• Septic tank and drain field. Typically found "down stream" of flush toilets
• Tree bog. A tree bog is essentially a compost pile that contains human feces and other organic material. Tree bogs are located near trees or other nutrient "hungry" vegetation, hence the name
• Cesspit. A covered pit in which human feces is deposited. (Like an outhouse, but without the house!)

I immediately ruled out a flush toilet and associated septic tank and drain field. Too expensive. Too much impact on the environment. Too much water consumption.

I then shifted my attention to pit toilets, which happen to be legal in my area of Virginia. I came up with various ideas to try to make the outhouse experience a nice one (yeah, right!) Like a colorful, cheerful little house with a cute moon cut into the door. And plenty of ventilation courtesy of solar powered exhaust fans. Even a gas heating system for those cold winter nights. But outhouses have a bad reputation, and I was sure my guests would be less than thrilled to use one. Then there's the problem of digging that big hole, and explaining it all to my landlord. Even so, it was a possibility.

Next, I considered a composting toilet. Again, they're pretty expensive, and it just seemed like overkill. Why such an elaborate system? But I did like the idea of composting the waste. And zero water consumption.

Chamber pots and earth closets were simpler than composting toilets, but required a separate means of disposal, like a cesspit or tree bog. But I sort of liked the idea of taking the waste far away from my tent for final disposal.

In the end, I settled upon an earth closet (using sawdust, which I get for free from a local sawmill, instead of dirt for the litter material) and a tree bog.

An earth closet is simply a bucket-like container placed below a toilet seat. You sit on the seat and defecate into the bucket. It's similar to a chamber pot except that it's design as a non-movable fixture with a seat. The other major improvement over a chamber pot is that it uses "earth", or in my case sawdust, as a litter material that keeps the feces away from the walls of the bucket, thereby improving sanitation. The sawdust is also used to cover the feces after use.

Below is a picture of an earth closet invented by Rev. Henry Moule in the 1860s.

Moule's Earth Closet from the 1860s

My first earth closet wasn't nearly as high-tech as Moule's design. It was based on the simpler Loveable Loo design. It was a simple plywood box with a hole cut in the top. I attached a traditional toilet seat for added comfort.

My original bathroom

My first earth closet

The plywood box had a hinged top and was large enough to hold two five-gallon buckets, one for the waste (on the left) and a second for the sawdust (on the right). I put a scoop in the sawdust bucket. After each use, you just lifted the lid and scooped sawdust onto your waste.

Inside the earth closet. On the left is the waste bucket. On the right is the sawdust bucket.
(The dark stain on the inside of the top is from incense smoke.)

In October of 2012, I installed a new kitchen and bath which included an old earth closet that I found at an antique store.

My new earth closet

Of course, the earth closet isn't the end of the story. It's just the collection device. The waste must still be disposed of, and that's where the tree bog comes in. A tree bog is really just a compost pile located near a tree or other vegetation. In my case, I simply dump the earth closet waste bucket around a tree some distance from my tent. The sawdust, feces, and toilet tissue creates an extremely active compost that breaks down quickly. I move from one tree to the next every three months or so. After about six months, the bog breaks down to something very close to dirt and can then be buried if desired. But at that point, there are very few pathogens left and the bog can as well be left in place.

I'm trying to keep all aspects of tent living above-board and legal, including my waste disposal system. So before going too far I visited my county health department to see if what I wanted to do was legal. I explained exactly what I had in mind. The earth closet with sawdust. The tree bog. The option to just leave the bog above ground, or to bury it after six months or so. It was an open discussion with full disclosure.

As we discussed the solid waste problem, the health department agent began asking me about liquid waste. So-called "grey water". I had already decided to install a dump sink and dry well to solve that problem, and to use that system for all grey water, including urine, so I told them about that system, too. I would use the dump sink for dish water, bathing water, and urine, and the earth closet for solid waste.

Well, after a good discussion, with me looking for every possible loophole I could think of, we finally concluded that what I wanted to do was against county health regulations. For one thing, the county doesn't differentiate between grey water and black (or toilet) water. All of it was just waste water that had to be disposed of in a proper drain field. For solid waste, I had three choices: a certified composting toilet, a flush toilet (with a septic tank before the drain field), and a pit toilet.

Damn! Oh well, I tried.

From that point, the conversation turned to understanding the process for health code violations. (That's right, I was moving to Plan B, outlaw toilets!)

In my county, the process for health code violations is as follows:

1. The county health department receives a complaint (usually from a neighbor) about a potential health code violation
2. A county field agent visits the accused violator and investigates the complaint
3. If a health code violation is found, then the violator is cited. At that point, the violator has 30 days to remedy the problem
4. After 30 days, the field agent returns to ensure that the problem has been remedied. If it has, then the case is closed

No fines. No fees. No legal actions. I can live with that.

The violation in my case would be the tree bog. Tree bogs have been around for nearly 20 years and are fairly well known in Great Britain. They appear in permaculture designs near Zone 2 (by the orchards and beehives!) But alas, in my area of Virginia, they are currently illegal.

Cesspits, on the other hand, are perfectly legal where I live. So if I'm ever visited by a county health department field agent, it looks like I'll get a 30-day assignment to dig a 5' x 5' x 4' pit. Ok, that's fair.

I'm pretty happy with my system. My earth closet is comfortable and easy to use. It's simple, eco-friendly, and it consumes no water. In the summer, I dump the waste bucket after each use, but in colder months I can simply cover the feces with sawdust and I don't need to dump the bucket so frequently. It's surprising how well the fresh oak sawdust covers odors. I routinely burn incense as an air freshener. And between the sawdust and the incense, I have absolutely no problem with odors. In fact (and I know this sounds gross), there's a sort of sweet, pleasant smell that surrounds you when you sit down on the earth closet.

The earth closet is a 200-year-old solution to an age-old problem. Hopefully tree bogs will make their way to the US before too long as an alternative to pit toilets. Both of these solutions fit right in with tent living and I'm pretty pleased with the results.

My Finished Living Space

A few months ago I found a nice shady spot near my tent that I began setting up as a living area. It started with just a few camp chairs and a tiki torch. Then I added a hammock, which was a huge improvement. I've spent many hours in that hammock already. Next came a picnic table. Then a camp stove and a fire ring. And finally I built a frame and added a wooden swing.

My "living room"

The hammock gets a lot of use

I love this space. I often have friends over for dinner and drinks and we spend most of our time down here. I keep a cooler at the picnic table and fill it with ice when I entertain. This area is about 20 yards from my tent and I've made a path and lined it with tiki torches. It's so nice at night. I'll bring down my CD player and do some outdoor cooking. Grilled sweet corn, fish, or steaks. Fresh vegetables. Goat cheese and bread warmed on the coals. I've even brought down the camp oven and made grilled steak nachos with fresh guacamole. And always plenty of beer on ice. And a hammock calling out my name. It's my favorite "room".

FAIL!: Rain Fly Support System, Version 2.0

A few weeks ago, I complete my new, re-designed rain fly support system. The support system consisted of two vertical 4x4 posts and a horizontal 25-foot cross piece running from post to post. I built the cross piece using doubled-up 1x8s, face-bolted together. I staggered the joints so that they were 4 feet apart.

The finished board was 1-1/2" thick x 7-1/4" tall x 300" long (that is, 25'). It was a ribbon of a board, and when you picked up one end the tried to get it to stand on edge, it would inevitably twist and turn and lay down flat at the other end. I was a little concerned about this behavior because I needed the board to stand on edge once I fastened it to the posts.

When I first installed the cross piece, it had a nice, gentle twist to the right. It sort of reminded me of the pleasant lines taken by wooden strakes on a rowboat. But I didn't want this thing to glide through water, I wanted it to stand up on edge. My good friend, Tom, who helped me put the board in place said, "You'll never get the twist out of that thing." Well, maybe, but I was still gonna try my best.

I attached a few ropes at different locations on the board and pulled and tugged as needed to get the board to stand up on edge. I finally got it pretty close and staked the ropes in place.

The board would hold its position for about a day before slowly sagging and twisting in a new direction. So I'd pull and tug and stake out the ropes again, only to have the board twist at yet another place a day or so later. This cat-and-mouse game continued for awhile. Then, a few days ago, I was trying to straighten out a particularly nasty twist and heard a "crack!" I peaked under the rain fly and saw exactly what I didn't want to see. One of the joints had cracked. And with that bad joint, there was no way the board would handle any sort of a snow load this winter.

Failed joint in the 25-foot cross piece

Well, turns out Tom was right. I couldn't get that thing straightened out. I'm leaving the board in place for now, since it's still fine during the summer when there's no snow. The rain fly has quite a sag, but it's still sheds rain just fine, and it offers much needed shade on these hot summer days.

Twisted cross piece and saggy rain fly

Okay, okay, so let me be the first to say it: FAIL! I guess it's back to the drawing board (and I already have some ideas for Version 3.0).

Completed Rain Fly Provides Welcome Shade

A few weeks ago, I complete my rain fly support system. The support system consists of two 4x4 posts, one in front and the other in back of the tent, with a 25-foot board running parallel to the roof ridge from the top of one post to the top of the other.

Completed support system

With the support system in place, the final step was to drape the tarp over the cross piece, spread it out flat, and stake it down. I fastened metal conduit to the eaves of the rain fly using nylon zip ties. That kept the lines straight so that water would shed properly, and spread the tension across the full set of grommets instead of just a few.

Tarp in place

I designed the support system such that the rain fly would be 2 to 3 feet above the peak of the tent roof. That would keep the hot summer air away from the tent. The rain fly would act as a big shade tree in the summer. And it worked better than expected. The shading effect has reduced my interior temperature by more than 15 degrees. Now, when it's 95 degrees outside and the summer sun is directly overhead, it only reaches perhaps 97 or 98 degrees inside the tent.

Two-foot gap between tent and rain fly allows air to circulate