I guess there must be other folk like that,
city folks maybe, but to someone who has been camping out since I was around
three it does seem strange. After talking to him I got to thinking and trying
to remember some of the places I've slept over the years. There are the
regulars, curled up on a blanket beside a creek, river or lake. I know we used
to think that sleeping under a pickup was about the same as having a tent. I
can't even begin to remember all the trees I've spent the night under or the
number of shelters I've spent the night in. I've made shelters out of tree
limbs and brush, roofed with pine boughs. There have been lean-tos covered with
everything from tree bark to Johnson grass leaves. There were caves, both large
enough to stand up and move around and the ones that were just big enough to slide
into feet first. I've even spent a few nights inside a fallen hollow log
watching some pretty good storms pass by.
I've slept under rock overhangs trying to
keep dry during a rain storm or trying to catch a few hours sleep out of the
desert sun. There have been nights spent sitting up or leaning back against a
tree and warm summer nights just laying out in the middle of a field. I can
remember almost every night I've ever spent in abandoned buildings from the old
saloon in a ghost town in Nevada to the old miner's cabins in Alaska. There was
even an old honky-tonk in Schulter where I spent a few nights when I had
problems at home during my teen years.
I saw a film about Chimps building a kind of
nest and sleeping in trees so of course I had to try that. It really wasn't bad
until a storm blew in and the tree started hard enough to almost toss me out of
my "nest", I developed a lot more respect for baby birds after that
night. I spent several nights in snow caves during some bad storms and found
them to be downright comfortable as long as you pay attention to how you dig
them, having one cave in on you in the middle of the night will definitely get
your attention!
I built a really nice shelter out of drift
wood on the Oregon one time. It was snug and water proof and I enjoyed staying
in it until the night I got the fire too close to the roof and set it on fire.
Thankfully it was raining that night which is the only thing that saved me from
burning up a few miles of beach.
Snow caves are great places for a night if
you happen to find caught out in a blizzard and the snow is deep enough to dig
into. Even the cloudless nights up in Alaska when it hits thirty or forty below
a snow cave will be relativity warm in a nice sleeping bag and just a miner's
candle. I did manager to spend one night in an igloo. It only took me about
five attempts to actually get one that would stay up. Those things are a lot
harder to build than it looks. Another way to keep warm at night (at least in
Oklahoma where it seldom gets more than about ten below) is to burrow into a
pile of leaves. I have spent a few hours raking up all the leaves I could and
piling them against a log the burrow into the middle of them. I've spent nights
like that just as snug as a bug in a rug and woke in the morning to find the
whole pile covered in ice. The only bad part about spending the night in cold
weather is having to get up in the morning.
I found a nice overhang in a cliff up in
northern Arizona one time that came in real handy when I got caught out in one
of the big desert thunder storms. The best thing about it was the fact that
there were pictographs on the walls. I'm not an archeologist but even I could
tell that they were very old. I was careful to build my fire at the edge of the
cave in order not to have smoke blowing inside. I didn't know if the smoke
would cause and damage to the drawings but I sure didn't want to take a chance.
I spent that night wondering what the person that made them might have used the
cave for. Back when they must have been made that part of the country was a lot
different than what it was while I was there. There was a lot more water and
the country was a lot greener then. The ledge in front would have been a great
spot for a hunter to watch the valley below or maybe it was a sacred place only
visited by the local Shamans. I will never know but it was special place to me.
One of the scarcest places I've ever spent a
night was in a hammock tied to two carabineers driven into a couple of cracks
in the rock and about six hundred feet up the side of a cliff in northern
California. That was my one and only attempt at real rock climbing. I didn't
get much sleep that night.
Now days I tend to spend my camping nights
in a tent on a cop with an air mattress. Laying out on the rocky bank of a
creek for the night just isn't as comfortable as it used to be as Stanley and I
found out the last time I went down to visit him. Those rocks just don't seem
to make as good a pillow as they used to!
No comments:
Post a Comment