THE SEDATE OUTDOORS

By GINIA BELLAFANTE

Perhaps late into the dank night, when the Smores have congealed to the consistency of government cheese and the sleeping bag begins to feel more like a moist Baggie, certain outdoorsmen begin to wish for the unspeakable: that the call of the wild would be answered by room service.

That might be one possible explanation for the explosion in sales of such wilderness products as L.L. Bean's portable "vacation home," a tent that sleeps five and includes a screen porch ($499); or the Coleman Company's "Event Center," a 40 1/2-in. collapsible bar with a 37-qt. storage compartment roomy enough for a case of Chardonnay ($29.99); or for the Starbucks-deprived, G.S.I. Outdoors' Mini-Expresso maker, which weighs in at a featherlight 13 oz. ($25.95).

More than 40 million Americans go camping every year, and apparently many of them are redefining their idea of rugged outdoorsmanship. Nowadays campers can languish in multiroom tents, cuddle up in adjustable-temperature sleeping bags, roast game hens in "outback ovens." "People don't want to go outdoors and get dirty and wet," explains Tom Huggler, author of The Camper's and Backpacker's Bible. "They want to be safe and comfortable, and they want a smooth experience." And they are willing to pay for it. According to the National Sporting Goods Association, a trade group, sales of camping and backpacking equipment are expected to reach $1.3 billion this year, after climbing nearly 20% last year.

Smooth-experience campers will soon have their own lavish shrine. On Sept. 13, R.E.I., a national retail cooperative that sold $448 million worth of outdoor equipment and clothing last year, will open the doors of its 80,000-sq.-ft. flagship store in Seattle. Spanning more than a two-acre city block, the store will feature a mountain-bike test trail encircling a 35-ft. man-made waterfall, and a "rain room" courtesy of Gore-Tex in which customers can try out foul-weather wear.

The growth of stores such as R.E.I. and other purveyors of high-tech outdoor gear arises from technological advances that have spawned a host of new synthetic fabrics and materials. These innovations are unprecedentedly light and durable, not to mention increasingly resistant to heat and cold. Even better, especially from the seller's standpoint, the rapid improvements can make relatively new equipment seem outmoded. Tents, once made of canvas or nylon, are now composed of fiber glass and aluminum, materials that have shaved a pound and a half from the average tent weight in the past five years. Ranging in price from $200 to $900, today's high-tech tents often feature near-vertical walls, gear lofts, "mud rooms" and windows for star gazing.

Should your outdoor adventure require watercraft, Mad River Canoe of Waitsfield, Vermont, manufactures a series of boats with aluminum-tubing frames and polyvinyl chloride skins that actually fold up into a backpack. Bon voyage, portage.

Certainly anyone willing to pay the $1,700 price tag for such compact transport might easily see the value of the $319 MemBrain Denali jacket. The lightweight parka, made by Marmot of Santa Rosa, California, adjusts to the wearer's activity level: if one is, say, paddling briskly in the rain, strands of temperature-sensitive molecules expand to let vapor escape--then tighten up to trap body heat and prevent the chills when the canoer takes a break.

And dash any notion you had of cooking over a fire, or snacking on trail mix. Liquid-fuel stoves with electronic ignitions have made matches passe; contraptions like the Camp Kitchen from Coleman, the Kansas-based gear purveyor, allow any hiker to play Martha Stewart. The portable kitchen weighs only 35 lbs. and yet contains 6 ft. of counter space, a sink, stove space, storage shelves, a paper-towel rack, a set of backgammon and a set of checkers. It all fits in a suitcase-size carrier. At $199 the movable diner is one of the company's best sellers.

Paper-towel racks? Sinks? Shouldn't nature remain the uncoziest of places? Not anymore. The point of all this paraphernalia, says Michael Hodgeson, editor of the trade publication Outdoor Retailer, "is to take the indoors outdoors and add a little cush to the hard edge of the wilderness." Add a little cush and, some would argue, take away the fun.

--Reported by Stacy Perman/New York and Janet I-Chin Tu/Seattle

With reporting by STACY PERMAN/NEW YORK AND JANET I-CHIN TU/ SEATTLE