The "Bad" Camping Experience....

[Northern Dancer]

Do you have one?

Here is one of my bad stories.

At the time I was a Scout Leader and with a colleague, had taken the senior boys out for an advanced program in camping skills. The day was beautifully bright but exceptionally windy. The tenting area was at the old Lions Club camp and was considerably hilly. When asked where to set up our tents I decided not going to top of the hill but a plateau that would provide some shelter from the wind. I prohibited an open fire and advised we use the Coleman Gas stove [can't believe they still sell them]. We put up a shelter to protect us from what seemed to be an increasing wind strength. Things seemed to be in ship-shape when another leader with his ragtag group was passing us. He stopped, and said to his group, "Now ya see ya shouldn't be camping where these guys are because if it rains they could be washed out." "Good day to you too Buddy", I whispered under my breath.

We were chowing down when all of a sudden we heard these gwad awful screams. My partner asked one of the lads to go check out the scene and report back. He was back in a flash puffing and panting, "The whole place is on fire he screams!" At that instant, we were up and out and got to the site. Everything was ablaze and there didn't seem to be any direction and no one in command. "Pull that tent down", I ordered. "Kill the grass fires", I shouted. When the commotion was finally over I approached the Leader of the Group, and asked, "What...did the hell happen here?" Simply reported - the three tents where close together in scout fashion, and apparently the fire was too. With a gust of wind, flames hit the first tent and in no time two of them were ablaze. We managed to get the third tent down before the flames spread.

They lost most of their equipment including their uniforms all neat and tidy in the tents. The Leader? Well, I listened to his conversation with the firefighters who were now on the scene. Needless to say that my opinion and impression of this guy hadn't improved since our first encounter.

To make matter worse, my group, when it was dark and the winds had gone, raided the scene and dug up what they had buried to see what they might be able to salvage.

Do I have other stories? Of course.

 

[ppine]

A trip over Chilkoot Pass from Alaska to BC turned into a survival mission. We had 4 days of heavy rain. My down sleeping bag got wet. I was afraid to go to sleep in the snow and sleet at the top of the Pass. Way above tree line. It got light at 0400 and we headed down to a lodgepole forest to get warm. It was August 31.

 

[Northern Dancer]

Wow!
The situation described "ppine" is the motivation for someone to write a television script for the rest of us to watch with great interest. The weather certainly has contributed to some frightening camp stories over the years. Isn't it great that you can talk about it and share things of the past? Dunno-but I think you have other fabulous stories to tell.

 

[Cappy]

Bad camping trips make the best stories when sitting around a fire and someone starts with yall remember the time............You can bet it aint gonna be all sunshine and lolipops

 

[ppine]

Experienced outdoor people have lots of them. Where to begin? Capsized canoes, punctured rafts, mule wrecks, bad storms, injuries, hunting stories? I would like to sit around a campfire with you guys and take turns. with Cappy, Grandpa and Northern Dancer. And of course Dino.

 

[Grandpa]

Northern Dancer's tale of the other groups fire reminds me of a trip. My brother and two friends had good luck at an end of road wilderness elk hunt and decided to try the same area the following year. One took his brother in law, my brother took me, and the other friend took his brother and brothers friend. This was about a 300 mile drive with the last 100 on various stages of gravel roads. All went well with us and we arrived at the intended destination within a few minutes of "John". We had arrived the day before the opener and busied ourselves with setting up our base camp, collecting wood, etc. "Gordon" never showed up. They had gotten a later start and we expected them later in the day, but it didn't happen. The four of us hunted for several days, got a couple of elk down and because the temp had warmed up decided to get the meat out before it spoiled. On the way out, the guys wanted to check a primitive camp site they had used before, thinking maybe Gordan had played over there and decided to stay and hunt that area. There in the creek were the remnants of a burned tent, sleeping bags. Clothes, etc. I recognized an exploded magazine that would fit Gordon's rifle. We gathered their mess up, cleaned the area and came home.

They had driven until late in the night, stopped and camped in that spot. They had hurriedly set up the tent, spread out their bed rolls. Two were undressed and in their bags when the third reached up to turn off the white gas lantern, knocking it loose, and engulfing the whole tent with flame. They made it out of the tent okay but lost everything. They threw everything in the creek to keep the fire from spreading, but with no clothes, middle of the night, in high mountains, had to leave. One had his trousers but no shirt, one had his shirt but no trousers, and the third had his underwear and an old raincoat that was in the truck. Three hundred miles from home. Little or no money, and dressed like that. They had made it about a hundred miles when the voltage regulator or generator went out. (51 chev.) They drove in the dark the last few miles to a small town, literally in the middle of nowhere. Gordan had stopped at a particular gas station before and knew the owner lived in a trailer behind the station. This was in the late 50's when every gas station was full service including a lot of basic repair work. The owner figured no one could make up a story like that, so fixed them up, filled them with gas, gave them pop and snacks all for the promise of a check in the mail.

 

[Northern Dancer]

Northern Dancer's tale of the other groups fire reminds me of a trip. My brother and two friends had good luck at an end of road wilderness elk hunt and decided to try the same area the following year. One took his brother in law, my brother took me, and the other friend took his brother and brothers friend. This was about a 300 mile drive with the last 100 on various stages of gravel roads. All went well with us and we arrived at the intended destination within a few minutes of "John". We had arrived the day before the opener and busied ourselves with setting up our base camp, collecting wood, etc. "Gordon" never showed up. They had gotten a later start and we expected them later in the day, but it didn't happen. The four of us hunted for several days, got a couple of elk down and because the temp had warmed up decided to get the meat out before it spoiled. On the way out, the guys wanted to check a primitive camp site they had used before, thinking maybe Gordan had played over there and decided to stay and hunt that area. There in the creek were the remnants of a burned tent, sleeping bags. Clothes, etc. I recognized an exploded magazine that would fit Gordon's rifle. We gathered their mess up, cleaned the area and came home.

They had driven until late in the night, stopped and camped in that spot. They had hurriedly set up the tent, spread out their bed rolls. Two were undressed and in their bags when the third reached up to turn off the white gas lantern, knocking it loose, and engulfing the whole tent with flame. They made it out of the tent okay but lost everything. They threw everything in the creek to keep the fire from spreading, but with no clothes, middle of the night, in high mountains, had to leave. One had his trousers but no shirt, one had his shirt but no trousers, and the third had his underwear and an old raincoat that was in the truck. Three hundred miles from home. Little or no money, and dressed like that. They had made it about a hundred miles when the voltage regulator or generator went out. (51 chev.) They drove in the dark the last few miles to a small town, literally in the middle of nowhere. Gordan had stopped at a particular gas station before and knew the owner lived in a trailer behind the station. This was in the late 50's when every gas station was full service including a lot of basic repair work. The owner figured no one could make up a story like that, so fixed them up, filled them with gas, gave them pop and snacks all for the promise of a check in the mail.

Wow!!! That is one incredible story, Grandpa. I can [because you make it so easy] visualize the scene. I do a lot of hot tent camping, as you know. One of the items I keep close is my sharp knife. Not to ward off attackers - but to cut a slit in my tent to escape should it catch on fire. Man...the thought of such makes me shiver. Oh...that's another good reason to wear something to bed. If you have to get up and get out it is better to be wearing than hanging.

 

[ppine]

Most of my bad camping experiences are in the distant past. Sometimes the wrong people or bad weather and inexperience can result in some bad trips. I learned quickly to be careful with selecting crews especially for more rigorous trips. I have back up systems for bad weather like a tarp to set up over a fire in the rain.

In the last ten years my only bad experiences have been people that were over exposed. Old friends that I used to backpack with that haven't been in a sleeping bag in 15 years. One came out from the East Coast and wanted me to be "the guide" when I kept telling him he was part of the crew. Lack of skill, lack of confidence became a problem. No one wanted to camp with the guy again on a river trip. I told him if I am guide, then I have to charge him $300 a day.