Well, I'm officially a hanger.
I've been planning to take the new setup for a test-drive where I could readily duck back indoors if I screwed something up, and finally got my chance yesterday. I set up after work on the back patio, since the wetlands easement on our property means we don't have a proper back yard (a trade-off i now kind of, but not really, regret).
I'd previously sunk some eye hooks into the patio overhead joists, and decided to use them, even though i know they're too high (~8ft)from my prior test. I hung the tarp and tied the guylines off to the railing, a bench, a Buddha statue, and whatever else was anchor-worthy nearby.
We get a pretty rippin' wind through the wetland channel pretty regularly, so I put the tarp into storm mode with the doors down, leaving just one loose for ingress and egress. Next I hung the hammock, using some wrenches on the straps for my marlinspikes. I'd read that the WBBB-XLC likes to have the head a fair bit lower than the feet, so i hung the foot end at about nose height, and the head around chest-height.
After tieing out the bugnet & shelf tensioners, I went back inside for dinner and our after-work TV-ritual with the wife. Show concluded, I slipped into my smartwool socks & merino thermals, said goodnight, and, feeling slightly silly for leaving the warmth of a populated bed to sleep in the yard, tromped downstairs with my sleeping bag (Igneo 20*), underquilt (Wookie 20*), wool beanie, and a book to read (American Buffalo).
Well and truly dark now (~2100), I slipped under the tarp, managing to only trip on my guyline once, tossed the bag into the hammock and clipped and hooked the underquilt into place. I'd developed some sag in the tarp between hanging it and going back out, so I guess I'm gonna need to add some shock-cord to the guy-lines for next time. I'm a big guy at 6'4" and 240lbs, so I definitely felt like I should've hung the tarp up another 6 inches or so, though it wasn't touching my bugnet anywhere, so I felt confident that it wouldn't cause a problem once I added my weight to the hammock.
After quickly double-checking that my whoopies were still seated on the marlinspike knot, I almost sat in the underquilt, but a vague sense of wrongness and a recollection of some stories I read here helped me avoid an embarrasing bruise on my backside, and land safely in the hammock. After kicking off my boots and shucking my sweater I flopped most gracefully onto a fluffy mound of down and nylon.
As I had recalled, the height of the hang left a pretty bad sag in the ridgeline, enough to put it about 6 inches off my nose when I lay back. I streeeeetched forward, to the foot end, happy that I had had the time and foresight to make some zipper pulls for the bugnet a few nights back, and sealed myself into the hammock.
After ~10 minutes of rolling around like an alligator subduing its prey, I managed to secure myself inside the sleeping bag and liner, and gained a new understanding for the appeal of the top-quilt. Of course, in the process, I'd overheated, and immediately had to open up the bag again so I could stick an arm out and ventilate.
I managed to make use of the ridgeline slack to secure my mini-lantern overhead with a carabiner, wrapping the carabiner spine around the ridgeline so friction would hold it in place, but I could easily slide it to where I wanted it. This also helped take up some of the slack and lifted the bugnet far enough away for me to comfortably rest my book on my belly to read.
This is when I really began to appreciate the hammock. With the barely perceptible sway of the hammock, the quiet murmur of the lake to my right, and the light patter of a gentle rain on the tarp, I soon found myself nodding off, re-reading the same passage about Yosemite wolves' predatory interactions with buffalo a handful of times before I decided to make it official. I clicked off the lantern, snuggled down toasty warm into the sleeping bag, and drifted off to sleep ~2200.
I awoke at 0230 to nature's call, and half-heartedly tried to fall back asleep for half an hour before the combination of increasing bladder pressure and mustered courage thrust me into the cold night air. After relieving the first and depleting the second, I hastily retreated to my nest, this time slipping into the sleeping bag liner before rolling into the better-prepared, and still mildly warm sleeping bag and vowing to obtain a top quilt next payday.
Just as I was dropping off to sleep again, a loud ker-sploosh startled me awake as some nocturnal critter splashed into the lake. Perhaps a nutria? Perhaps ol' swamp-thing himself?
After a bit of self-reassurance that I could surely take whatever critter wandered the night should it be so bold as to approach, I was able to sleep again ~0300, though less comfortable than before, as it was nearing the overnight low temp of 34*, and while my body and limbs were warm, my nose and cheeks felt the cold acutely.
I woke next, gritty-eyed in the rosy light of dawn, as my fitbit buzzed on my wrist to let me know it was time to get up and hit the elliptical for my morning run. By God, I'd done it! A quick stretch and rubbing of my face helped me shake off the last evidence of the sandman's blessed work, and I emerged triumphant, grinning foolishly at the ducks swimming lazily in the pond, and listening to the songbirds greet the day.
With a tinge of remorse, I headed inside again to wake my wife, and begin to plan my next night outdoors.
Pics: https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B2...jhtMHRWVjJZTDQ
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Originally Posted by DaSpindler
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