by John Holman
We are back in the Fort Simpson Territorial Campground this summer, our third year in a row and nearly a year surviving in our intrepid, classic camper. It needs tender, loving care this year.
The suspension has gone on one side and needs welding, the exterior lights need repair and replacement. If we have to push the trailer another winter somewhere, we will have to conduct a day or two of sealing all the cracks and screen replacements. The tires should be maintained, or at least rotated, including getting an extra spare. We need to hook up the propane to fire the furnace and get a couple of house batteries to keep the furnace operational when the generator is being refilled (in the winter).
I have decided against the solar generator for the winter, for as my young friend Will pointed out to me, it could invite great inconvenience of the batteries freezing in the sub -40 C temperatures. Instead, we’ll look at getting a new Honda jenny and get the King Canada repaired as the back-up, which was our long-term view anyway. We may install solar panels on the outside of the camper then store the batteries inside, of course; that means we’ll have a major renovation, at least on the camper level. Then there is the exterior wind-break and shell for the upcoming winter, which last winter consisted of plastic sheeting, tarps, plywood and snow. Looking ramshackle and forlorn, nevertheless all drafts were nullified and we kept the camper warm even with just two little household electric heaters. This year, we will construct a modular shell, consisting of plywood, foam insulation, two-by-fours and one-by-threes, fitted together via a series of corner joints.
This means the front, back and sides, will snap together for easy disassembly in the spring and; will include a roof. This is where the tricky part of the solar panels comes in, for the shell will have to be designed in order to convert into a solar panel mount.
We lost our generator in April, due to overuse, which we had anticipated, as it ran for over six months straight, all day and night, during the autumn chill and winter freeze-up. It can only take so much, but that alone was also a learning curve, as we discovered how to maintain the machine, where we could jerry-rig a missing component and other adaptations, such as the shipping container we used to house the jenny in during the winter months and to provide some noise control. Many of my friends refer to a tiny house as their next home and in a way, Vera and me have already been testing this.
As a result of having lost the generator we lost our modern-day amenities and have been living like Neolithic nomads since, actually reading books and magazines, or engaging in artistic pursuits such as Vera’s rug-making, or my ridiculous cartooning. So when we hooked up to the power at the campground we emerged from the stone ages and Vera’s demeanour took on a beaming joy as she busted out the Playstation 1 and me the Playstation 4. Also, we can watch our extensive collection of DVDs and Blueray discs, as well as the now-ubiquitous movie downloads on USB and our new Terabyte external drive. Hours of listless, low-impact enjoyment that most citizens take for granted.
Of course all of these activities are not new to those in the capital, where nearby campsites turn into Yellowknife neighbourhoods. The campgrounds of Long Lake and Reid Lake, for example, fill up pretty quick and those lucky families often end up in a blended home situation of living at the camp sites in satellite summer homes. Once the school season is over, for example, you can be guaranteed that the endless summer days of yore then begin for the carefree youngsters. With the lakes, camp fires and supervisory staff on-hand, the campgrounds there become family-friendly rearing environments. Also, it’s summer; get the heck out of the house! Dang kids ...