Gearing Up
When I pulled in front of my brother-in-law's driveway, he was in the garage weaving line through his 9-foot spinner rod. At his feet were two carefully set rows of gear: one camping, one fishing. Our casual trip now included four rods, four reels, two tackle boxes, vests, waders, and fuzzy-soled boots. Already inside the Forester were the inflatable kayak, a pair of paddles, life vests, and a large-volume air pump. There was my camping gear: Big Agnes sleeping bag, ice chest, Atle BBQ stove by Primus, cooking utensils, hiking pack, and the like. I had also loaded in my Kelty collapsible kitchen table, a portable sink, and a pair of folding chairs.

Not only were we well prepared for a two-day fishing trip, but we were ready for the Normandy invasion.

Brian and I packed the Forester with the delicate fishing gear and relegated the hardier equipment to the top of the trailer. Based on a heavy-duty utility trailer, the Jumping Jack stores its canvas tent in a large, plastic-coated bag that fills every square inch of the steel mesh trailer box. Anything extra must be strapped to the deck, exposed to the elements and within reach of pilfering fingers.

To be fair, the trailer was not designed to carry small equipment, but rather to haul robust accessories. Hatches closed, the Jumping Jack's upper deck can shoulder such things as hard-shelled kayaks, mountain bikes, a pair of ATVs, and even one of those eight-wheeled utilitarian vehicles. We relegated the inflatable kayak, camping table, and ice chest to the top of the trailer and secured it with ratcheting straps.

The Jumping Jack
We made Tannery Gulch campgrounds along the western shore of Trinity Lake by midday. Eager to cast our hooks, we immediately set to hoisting our quarters.

Opening the thick, weather-proof tent bag revealed a heavy eucalyptus-green canvas enclosure. Our initial impression was that we had brought little more than a tent on wheels, but as the Jumping Jack unfolded, it was clear a lot of field research and planning had gone into its design.

The hatch doors swing open over the trailer's wheels, becoming the support shelves for the tent beds. Once the canvas roof was unfolded, we had access to the inner frame through the zippered entry door. With a little guidance, the frame's integrated hydraulic dampening system then erected the shelter almost on its own.

Along with the tent's cavernous interior, the seven large mosquito-meshed windows add to its spacious feel. In addition to two beds, the tent is equipped with a large popup table. But that's it for appointments. The manufacturer's spec sheet says the Jumping Jack will sleep six adults, but they’d have to be a close group of friends. Four is more like it, and even then the arrangement would be cozy.

With zero amenities, this may not be the best camping tent for the family. Yet it is not intended to be. Its no-thrills function is for the true outdoorsman, for the guys (and gals) who need a rugged platform to transport their adventure gear off the trodden path and still take along a viable shelter.

One note: After unhitching the unit from the Forester I discovered it is critical to lower the rear stabilizing jack under the trailer's tailgate. Failing to do so allows the trailer to pivot on its 15-inch wheels and dump its occupant and content, tilt-bed-style, out the back door. Take my word for it, it happens quicker than you can imagine and can be very embarrassing in front of your brother-in-law.