I staked out my Tarptent recently and felt for the first time that it was really finally looking a bit long in the tooth; just general weakness in the stitching. Granted, the zippers went about 50 nights ago after some sand mis-treatment, one poles has a bit of duct tape reinforcement at the ends, and there has been some minor strategic stitching reinforcement over time. But none of this was due to an unreasonable breakdown, just a love of the piece of gear and wanting to keep it somewhat dialed.
I figure I have now spent about 350 nights out in it and therefore feel somewhat confident in this statement: The Tarptent is the best backpacking shelter ever created period. I have had it in 5 inches of heavy slushy snow in Oregon, a mosquito apocalypse in Yosemite, hellacious wind high on Combs Peak, on snow during spring ski descents in Colorado, and in a damp moist unrelenting breeze in New Zealand. It has always felt like a solid home. I have never been in a situation where I wish I had had something more substantial above me. Yes, you must plan your other gear based on what you expect to encounter, but the Tarptent has always satisfied as the basic shell.
Is it always PERFECTLY comfortable (no moisture, 100% wind block, super warm in all conditions). No, of course not. We are living outdoors; a shelter does not need to compare to a Hyatt. If you are thinking along that line (you know what I mean), you are coming from a place of fear. Let it go along with so many other things that general society consciousness may be drawing you into. Trust me, the thing works. And it is light! “Nothing is perfect until you can no longer remove anything from it” – words our spirits live by out there and the Tarptent defined.
One other thing the Tarptent has made obvious: Ground tarps are unnecessary. Not one rip or tear of any sort in the floor after 350 nights!
Thank you Henry Shires. You are a maestro.
I don’t think I will be able to just throw it away. Maybe after some kind of ceremony; maybe I will burn it with chanting.
I love the damn thing.
Hans Berg