Your worst night camping

[Michael_Kingston]

Has anyone got a 'worst night camping' horror story they would like to share .... tents blown over, possum attacks etc...

My worst night was about 20 years ago when I was in my teens. I was walking in the Wild Dog Mountains (Blue Mountains) in July with a friend. It got dark, it started to pour down and we were on the side of a very steep hill. We found a spot just large enough on a very rocky 30 degree slope and sort of put up the A frame tent we had. The whole night water ran through the tent (it was crappy) and we constantly slid down the hill pulling the tent forward. never been so cold or miserable before or since.

And the best story I have heard? I was cycle touring near Port Lincoln in SA and met an English guy also cycling. We got talking and he told me about how when he was walking the Overland Track a possum had got on top of his North Face tent. He hit the tent from the inside and the possum slid down the tent completely shredding the fabric in one section as it did so. He managed to tape the shreds together with some tape from a ranger who was at Pelion and, as he was staying there for a second night (he climbed Oakleigh), he decided to get revenge. He made a dahl using a load of chilli powder and then left it out for the possums. Unfortunately, rather than running off in pain the possums gobbled the whole lot up.

[Drifting]

Uh- waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of something like 100 skunks ransacking our campsite in the Pisgah National Forest in North Carolina. My tent buddy, a guy named Stacey (yup, named Stacey), chucked a rockat one of them, and the batard jumped in the air and sprayed in a 360 degree pattern. This was on the first night of a six-night wilderness ramble. Oh man did that stink.

The best I ever heard was my Dad- who when he was on a scout trip in California had a tent buddy who kept feeding marshmallows to this tame deer at the scout camp, despite everyone's warnings. In the middle of the night, the deer ripped open the side of the tent, staggered in and vomited all over the kid, without getting the slightest drop on Dad or his gear.

[Michael_Kingston]

I have heard skunks are worse than awful and the smell is almost impossible to get rid of if they spray in your house. As for the deer - poetic justice?

[Drifting]

The only way I know to get rid of skunk smel is to bath in tomato sauce when it is fresh. Not a good experience. It burns too.

[Lindsay]

A night spent on a rock ledge in Murchison Gorge, WA, on a walk from Galena Bridge to Kalbarri in 1974. No tent or mattress, just a sleeping bag and groundsheet. Bucketing rain and *&%$#! cold and uncomfortable. But I was young and invincible then and laughed in the face of adversity....

[Drifting]

LOL- we all suffer with a bit of Forrest Gumpitis when we're young, hey?

[Macca81]

2 nights spring to mind... first was at the aurthur river, sundown point. i had flown back into the state from thailand that morning, got bailed into the car by the parents, driven to the other end of the state, and found that they had packed their old dome tent rather than mine. first night was pleasent enough, second night found me waking up to find the tent poles broken and the tent flapping on top of me. this was fine, didnt worry me, iv slept thru wind before. then it started to rain...... the fly removed itself and im staring up thru the mesh inner at the falling rain.... needless to say, i proceded to seek refuge in the parents campertrailer!

the other occasion, was at mt field, sub zero temps, i forgot my thermarest.... nuf said bout that one really. i have never since forgoten it during winter

[stepbystep]

See this topic viewtopic.php?f=5&t=2469

Another silly one when I was a kid, was 3 nights on Rottnest Island, sleeping in the open in surfboard bags.
Night 1 - eaten alive by sandflies
Night 2 - eaten alive by sandflies and mozzies
Night 3 - eaten alive by sandflies and mozzies and then it rained at 3am

Still we got some great waves
sbs

[WarrenH]

When Haley's Comet last visited, a few years back now, my beautiful girlfriend then, Helen (who was eventually promoted after a decade of dedicated and selfless photographic service, to being my Senior Photo Assistant and Mother of our children) and I, spent weeks travelling around the Alps, photographing Haley's Comet, within the landscape.

I photographed structures (huts and chairlifts) and in the most amazing landscapes that I could find to show-off the comet, all in Kosci'. I'd spent months preparing to do this assignment and weeks actually photographing the comet. I was working as a professional editorial photographer back then. My job was to capture Haley's Comet.

Each day, during the late afternoon, I photographed a different landscape in Kosci'. With the camera left on a tripod, after the first shot was taken, at night I'd do a double expose of the comet trail, an extended time exposure. That is the background for what happened the night that ... I could have died from 'over exposure'.

Helen and I were on Carruther's West Ridge on the Main Range. I had set up the tent on the highest point of the ridge above the Sentinel track. The first shot had been taken looking over the Sentinel into Northcote Canyon. The camera was on the tripod, waiting for the comet to rise (about 9pm) to do the overlying comet star trail shot. The evening was well below zero, like minus heaps below C and sheet lightning and a storm, came in without any warning ... like totally life threatening lightning, flashing as brightly as daylight and with gale force winds and no chance to even count to "one-Mississippi," between the thunder claps.

Like we were on the highest point getting totally hammered and I had a raised metal object beside the tent with lightning striking all around.

I was half naked in the tent, changing clothes and Helen was asleep. I had to get the metal tripod away from the tent as quickly as poss' because the lightning strikes were very close. I removed the camera and then ran away from the tent and laid the tripod come lightning rod flat on the ground. The sheet lightning was supplying all the intermittent illumination needed to leave the tent ... the wind was absolutely hammering.

I was maybe 30 metres from the tent and the illumination from the lightning stopped. Then total blackness. With a threshold-of-pain roaring wind.

Helen couldn't hear me. I couldn't see the tent. I was disoriented in the wind but facing into the prevailing wind. I couldn't see didly-squatt. Helen was sleeping through the storm and didn't know that I had left the tent.

I couldn't find the tent after half an hour of searching, while half naked and freezing. I could have been with in a metre or two of the tent at any stage and not found it ... nor have Helen hear me shouting because of the howling wind.

I walked down wind to start the search again. If you know the Sentinel falling to one's death has happened to other people.

I left a wrapper from a Cadbury's Picnic , in the vestibule of the tent and it had eventually blown out. In one flash of lightning the only flash within half an hour, I saw the Picnic wrapper blow between my legs. I followed the direction I though it had come from, and I eventually tripped over the tent ... I didn't see the tent, I tripped over a guy rope of the tent.

I make no bones about that night. I could have died that night ... and the lovely Helen missed all the action.

I still love Cadbury's Picnic bars and I always will. I love Helen too and I always will ... despite her lack of concern shown that evening.

Warren.

PS, " The worst night camping?" ... I think it was the best in hindsight. It certainly could have been the worst.

[tas-man]

I was looking for some old bushwalking slides and in my search come across some from a long weekend on Frazer Island back in the early 1970's. The memories of our experience of an overnight mini tornado came back vividly when I looked at the old slides. A group of Brisbane Bushwalkers Club members with four wheel drives had been exploring Fraser Island over a January long weekend. The last night we set up camp on the dunes above the beach near the southern end of the island. It had been a hot weekend, and as the evening drew on, we sat outside our abduled Paddy tents and watched a spectacular electrical show over the ocean to the east. I took some time exposure photos of the lightning during the evening, and we eventually settled down in our tents with the regular pattern of pounding surf in the background. I distinctly remember the moment about 4.30am when I was suddenly awakened by the sound - or lack of sound - of the surf no longer breaking, and a sudden silence. I was nudging my companions awake to see what they made of it, when there was a wooshing sound in the trees around us and the tent poles suddenly collapsed and the guy ropes gave way. Still only half awake we all grabbed at the tent and rolled ourselves over the edges to try to keep it from flapping around in the howling wind. The the rain hit us with wind blown sand blasting us. This went on for about an hour. When the rain stopped, and with dawn breaking, we packed up our torn tents and equipment in the howling wind, loaded up the Landrovers and drove down to the southern tip ready to meet the barge from Inskip Point later that morning. We never forgot that weekend on Fraser Island!

Lightning display at sea.

FrazerIsland -1.jpg (241.94 KiB) Viewed 9129 times

Packing up the tents in the gale.

Another photo taken sheltering from the gale behind the Landrover.

[Michael_Kingston]

Warren - that sounds incredibly scary, but as you say finding your tent again probably made it the best night camping in the end. your are probably lucky your partner slept through it - she just may not have wanted to go walking with you again if she had been in the tent trying to work out what had happened to you or, worse, had gotten out to look for you.

[WarrenH]

Michael G'day.

What made the situation, totally negligent on my part, was that I had all the gear in the tent. We had good head torches for both of us and and the tent was a silver Trilogy snow tent. I could have been much further away from the tent than I was and flicked a head torch anywhere in the direction of the tent, and the tent would have lit-up like a reflective road sign.

Three shots from Carruthers West Ridge and the Sentinel Track.

A shot of Helen at the start of the Sentinel Track on that very day. The weather until sundown was stunning but cold. The Sentinel is a higher point on what becomes a knife edged ridge.




Mist forming on the sentinel Track. The Sentinel is the peak on the far left of the image, unfortunately just out of the shot.




'Ultra Violet'. Carruther's West Ridge looking towards Watson's Craggs . The Main Range.




It certainly was an extreme wake up call. I leave very little to chance nowadays, in the bush or above the tree line. Someone once wrote, "Mother Nature is a hard school Mistress. Firstly, she sets the exam and then She teaches you the lesson." Too true.

Cheers Mate.

Warren.

[Steve]

Almost surprised that no one made a reply about the following night after this topic was created (NYE). It was quite the display putting the fireworks to shame, up on the Western Arthur we had the wind though we were lucky enough to miss the down-poor or rain others had.

I can't choose my worst night ever so I'll post the both of them: (both are a few years back)

The first was camping along the Esperance River. Our usual spot was taken so we took a spot a few k's upstream. Never have I slept (well attempted too) on such hard ground, it was only dirt but it felt ten times harder than concrete.

The other was camping on Eliza Plateau with my Dad. We set off from the carpark in alright conditions. As soon as we got up onto the plateau we were blasted by gale force winds. We pushed on to a sheltered little spot where there was barely a breeze. We set the tent up before lunch and planned to explore and take photos the rest of the day, though literally as soon as we set the tent up it started belting down with rain. We spent the rest of the day confined to our tent. To make matters worse the wind decided to change direction and our sheltered spot was hounded with the full force of the wind. The night that followed was one of the longest I can remember with the tent being blasted with wind and rain the whole night. Our tent spent most the night laying on top of us, not that there was anything wrong with the tent but the wind was that strong it just pushed it straight over and held it down. Whenever there was a gap in the wind the tent popped straight back into shape, but as soon as the wind came roaring back in again it didn't have a chance. Most our guide ropes snapped and we had trouble keeping the door closed during the night. I awoke, well, became aware (as I couldn't sleep) a number of times to find both the fly and the tent doors fully open flapping around in the wind. The wind was that strong it kept undoing the zips. My Dad was on the worst side and had the poles hitting him the whole night, everything was soaked with one of the few exceptions being his boots which he put in his sleeping bag with him. After what seemed like the whole night I checked the time and could hardly believe it was only a bit past ten! It just kept going on and on. When it was almost five we packed up everything and set our target as the car and didn't stop till we got there. I know it was the worst night camping ever for my Dad, but for me it was a little exciting (never having been in those kind of conditions before) which is why it isn't my dead-set worst.