October. It's on the calendar, but the chilling wind wafts the distinct aroma of winter. Gone are the sun's long rays that warmed my back and cast dappled shadows on the aspen groves just this morning. The afternoon sky looms sullen and gray; the temperature has plummeted from near thawing to three skinny degrees above the negative side of the Fahrenheit scale.

The advantage of a canvas wall tent over a lightweight model is the addition of a stove for cooking and heating. Keeping a good stock of wood nearby is certainly a necessity, though. (Inset) Great prefabricated frames are available from a variety of sources, but you can also save some greenbacks by buying a joint kit and picking up some electrical conduit.

Pausing beneath the contorted canopy of an ancient Douglas fir, I feel the feeble glow of daylight fade and my fingers numb as I peer into a thin opening in a dark sea of forest, hoping that elk will step into the park to feed. As shooting light expires, they come. First a cow, then two more, followed by a trio of calves that buck and bound into the clearing. No antlers in the bunch, I cut for the trail that leads back to camp.

It's all uphill, two miles of stepping, one boot over the other, to ascend a route I know as well as the path to my own mailbox. At the summit of a final steep pitch, the trail breaks from the timber to an open ridge. It's snowing now, tiny weightless flakes flocking the shoulders of my wool jacket. A gust of wind whips snow down my collar, stinging my cheeks and freezing my nose.

Another mile in the building blizzard would spell pure misery, but a light winks brightly in the darkness ahead. In two minutes time, I'll be home, sheltered in creamy walls of canvas that often have a stronger feeling of "home" than the bent-wood rocker and carpet of my living room--250 miles away.

The temperature drops; the snow rises while the fellows and I slumber until dawn. Pine logs smolder to ash in the stove, warming the tent through the long night. At dawn, there's no prettier place on earth than this white, untracked wonderland with snow still sifting from the clouds overhead and nowhere I'd rather be for breakfast.

In different accommodations, though, this morning would surely be my last away from civilization, no matter that I'm not expected at home for five days. You can hunt from an unheated nylon tent, but I'm guessing when the mercury hits zero it will also measure your enthusiasm for another day on the prowl.

TEN TIPS FOR A BETTER CAMP

1) Throw a slick fly, like a poly tarp, over your tent. It'll keep you dry and shed snow, which adds extra weight to the tent frame. 2) If firewood isn't available where you camp, bring it from home. Scrap lumber works fine. 3) In freezing weather, keep coolers on the inside of the tent by the sidewall away from the stove. They'll stay cool but unfrozen. 4) Shovel an inch or two of dirt in the bottom of your stove before firing to protect the bottom from excessive heating. 5) When building a pole frame, save work by tying an end of the ridgepole to a standing tree instead of building an A-frame. 6) Invest in good lanterns and plenty of fuel. In the short days of November, your camp will spend plenty of time in the dark. 7) Keep a hammer, a selection of various-size nails and a length of wire with your camping gear. It's amazing what you can build or repair with these simple items. 8) Take a couple days' extra food along. It'll come in handy if you get stranded or wind up with extra mouths in camp. 9) Provide some cards, books and games. If the weather keeps you in camp, you can enjoy yourself instead of feeling frustrated. 10) Keep a camp notebook. Make notes for next year's camp and a list of needed items while they're fresh in your mind.

An RV might seem a sensible alternative, but I know one fellow with a nearly new outfit that fled the hills below our camp when the water pipes plugged with ice and the toilet froze. Short of sledding a log cabin to the mountains, the canvas wall tents that sheltered trappers, prospectors and homesteaders more than a century ago are still the best home a hunter could ask for, and they now boast some modern improvements that have only added to their practicality and charm.

Whether it's an expedition for elk in the Rocky Mountains or a quest for a woodland whitetail in the wilds of Virginia, a canvas wall tent, complete with a wood heating stove and a couple of like-minded friends to share the tarp-motel, is as fine a base for adventure as you'll find anywhere.