What are your best Camping, Hunting, or Hiking stories? Share & You Could Win!

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Response by SSG William Jones made Jul 20 at 2021 2:59 PM

SSG William Jones — Tue, 20 Jul 2021 14:59:29 -0400

There should be some really good ones coming...

Response by Capt Brandon Charters made Jul 20 at 2021 4:27 PM

Capt Brandon Charters — Tue, 20 Jul 2021 16:27:09 -0400

As an Air Force guy, my camping stories are tame, but I always enjoyed duck hunting with our KAFB crew in New Mexico.

Response by Steve Jones made Jul 20 at 2021 4:32 PM

Steve Jones — Tue, 20 Jul 2021 16:32:11 -0400

This one time, while bear hunting with my dad....

Response by SSG Carlos Madden made Jul 20 at 2021 4:38 PM

SSG Carlos Madden — Tue, 20 Jul 2021 16:38:28 -0400

My favorite hiking story? I don't know if I have a specific one but my favorite hiking memory was probably doing 2 nights/3 days on the Arizona Trail near the Mexican boarder.

Response by TSgt George Rodriguez made Jul 20 at 2021 5:35 PM

TSgt George Rodriguez — Tue, 20 Jul 2021 17:35:54 -0400

Civil War encampments as a union troop with signal corps here in central Oklahoma or a Command Sargent Major with confederate forces under General Stand Watie. Got to burn a lot of powder.

Response by CPT David Gowel made Jul 20 at 2021 6:36 PM

CPT David Gowel — Tue, 20 Jul 2021 18:36:41 -0400

So I can't say this fits my own definition of "camping" perfectly, but when I was stationed in Germany, we rented a pair of motor homes (wohnmobiles, auf Deutsch) to go to Oktoberfest shortly after we returned from a year+ tour in Iraq with 3 of my friends and their spouses. We parked the wohnmobiles at a german campground outside of München and went into the city for the festival. Three of us then-strapping army guys were 200lbs+, and our fourth wingman was 150lbs soaking wet... but we all kept the same pace of consumption of dunkel heffeweisen for several hours in one of the big tents. Upon return to the campground, two couples per motor home bedded down for the night and we shared ours with my friend who was in the not-so heavyweight category. Then, somewhere around 3am, we heard my buddy frantically trying to exit our vehicle - unsuccessfully - before the beer got the best of him and it all came back up. That triggered a spontaneous early AM stroll for my wife and I while [redacted friend name] cleaned up his mess, still sick, with his wife scolding him the whole time. This was in 2004, and I haven't been able to convince my wife to plan another wohnmobile trip ever since, and I don't expect I ever will.

Response by Cpl Vic Burk made Jul 20 at 2021 8:33 PM

Cpl Vic Burk — Tue, 20 Jul 2021 20:33:29 -0400

My best hiking trip was on 7 May 2005. Ever since my son, Daniel, was just a couple months old we took him to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Eventually he, like I, developed a deep respect and love for nature and the park. I took my family there every chance we got. From the time he could talk we talked about Hiking Mount LeConte, one day.

Mt. LeConte is 6,593 tall and the third tallest peak in the park. There are six trails of varying lengths and strenuousness leading to the Mt. LeConte Lodge, which by the way is the only lodge inside the boundary of the park and the highest in elevation east of the Mississippi River.

On that spring morning I woke Daniel up before daybreak and told him to get dressed and go to the kitchen. We were going to the park! He was up in a flash and to the kitchen for morning chow and we left.

Usually when we go to the park we turn at the Sugarland's Visitors Center to head to Cades Cove. Cades Cove is a section of the park that has old rustic cabins, some build at early as 1821. We have explored them all and tried to imagine life in one of those small cabins and how easy we have it today. However, today I bypassed the turn. In surprise Daniel told me, "Dad, you missed the turn!" Shrugging it off I told him, "There are plenty of places to turn around coming up." Opportunity after opportunity came up to turn around but I ignored them all. He kept looking at me like why are you not turning around?

Shortly we came across the Chimney Tops Trail Head. It was packed with cars, not a space to be had. I said, "Well we can't turn around here." We continued on until we got to the Alum Cave Trail Head parking area. As I pulled in I don't think it had quite hit him yet what I was up to. But when I pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine he had quite a look on his face as he said, "I thought you lost your mind when you forgot to turn back there." What we had talked about for over a decade was now going to happen; we were going to hike Mt. LeConte, today.

We got out our packs which up to this point he had no idea was even in the van and put them on. This trail is mostly uphill with some steep spots which didn't slow us down at all. Our adrenaline was pumping with excitement as we talked and jabbered about all kinds of things on the way up. We passed everyone we came up behind. We only stopped once on the way up to have a banana and then it was back to the hike.

Alum Cave Trail levels out for a bit as you get near the lodge but that isn't at the summit of this mountain. We looked around at the primitive lodging that is booked up sometimes years in advance. When I told him we were not at the summit yet; this was only the lodge and we still had another forty feet in elevation plus another 0.2 miles of the trail. It proved to be a tough 0.2 miles. My son was not thrilled to have to go this additional distance. Daniel thought the lodge sat on the top of the mountain as many folks do. But with my encouragement and ribbing that he wasn't the son of a Marine if he couldn't make it the last leg he reluctantly forged on.

The sight we saw was beautiful. The weather was perfect. We sat down at the top on some rocks overlooking the park and had our lunch. Sub sandwiches from Subway that I had went to pick up the night before. Some birds were hanging around probably conditioned that humans would give them a handout if they got close enough. I held out a piece of bread off my sub and this bird came right up to my hand, took the bread and flew off to eat it. After reaching the top he was glad I pushed him to make the additional distance. It was well worth the effort!

After a half hour or so we started the decent back down the mountain. Going down was harder than going up. First, because since we had conquered what we had talked about for so long we finally did. And second, going down uses different muscles and was just more strenuous on our legs. We eventually made it back to the trail head and into the car. We knuckled each other that we had done it!

We stopped at the Sugarland's Visitors Center to pick up some patches and pins to put on our hiking sticks as we did with may hikes we completed. We have hiked all the trails to the top at least once but this hike is the one I best remember. It was a first for both of us.

Response by Maj Robert Thornton made Jul 20 at 2021 10:16 PM

Maj Robert Thornton — Tue, 20 Jul 2021 22:16:45 -0400

While deer hunting this past fall in the Chattahoochee National Forest I found a spot on a mountainside behind a very large oak tree. It was sbout 200 yards across the stream from what appeared to be a well used deer track. I had just finished eating a PB&J sandwich when I peered around the tree.
On the far side of the creek I saw a small black furry critter, a bear cub. Okay, where's momma bear? Then I noticed another small black furry cub a bit to my left of cub1. Crap! Oh no, now I noticed another cub on my side of the creek.
About that point I notice momma bear ambling down the deer track and all 4 bears were heading up the hill on my side of the creek. Cub 2 & 3 were headed about 40 yards off to my left, cub 1 was heading straight for my tree.
Okay, will he pass on my left or right? Danged if I know; but I don't wish to be the meat in the bear sandwich, between momma bear and cub1. When cub one got to 20 yards from me, I raised the rifle and yelled at the bears to get out of there. Cubs 2 & 3 took of to my left, cub 1 froze and momma charged up the hill and stood in front of cub1 in a very aggressive stance.
I did not wish to shoot a sow with cubs, especially considering the major fine and lose of license, so I calmly kept telling the bears to leave, I wasn't going to shoot them.
Finally, momma bear and cub1 started after the other cubs. I had never taken the safety off, since I didn't want to shoot. I waited a few minutes and relocated, since that spot was blown.
This past season I saw a total of 8 bear; 1 boar, 2 sows and 5 cubs. Only saw 6 deer, none that I could take with either the bow or gun.

Response by SPC Michael Terrell made Jul 21 at 2021 10:18 AM

SPC Michael Terrell — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 10:18:37 -0400

My Last time of Camping was Cold Weather Survival Training at Ft. Greely. Sleeping under a tent half, at -40 killed the urge to ever go camping again.

Response by Sgt Devin Loftis made Jul 21 at 2021 5:44 PM

Sgt Devin Loftis — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 17:44:32 -0400

I once spent 49 days straight sleeping on the ground in the Australian Outback. I was conducting a training exercise with the Marine Corps and Australian Army that lasted 49 days. Me and 7 others camped in the outback with just sleeping bags and camouflage nets to block the sun. At any given time I had about 100 flies on me, I almost got beat up by a giant Red Tail Kangaroo, and at night the Dingos would come into our camp site and get so close to my sleeping bag I could smell their breath. We spent the entire 49 days without a shower and had food and water brought to us every 3 days. We probably played a thousand games of spades, and learned everything about each other’s lives. At night the sky burned red as wild fires scorched most of Australia, and the smell of the burning brush was oddly satisfying, but we were sad that the wild fires burned so much of Australia’s outback and wildlife. It was rough and hot, and the wild life was crazy, but looking back on it, it was one of the greatest camping experiences of my life.

Response by Sgt Jim Rice made Jul 21 at 2021 6:11 PM

Sgt Jim Rice — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 18:11:24 -0400

MOST Memorable 1993: 16 Marines descended on New River Gorge, WV to camp/whitewater raft down the river. Upon arrival (roughly 1AM) into the camp site, we 'claimed' our LZ among a group of about 20 tents. Of course in the morning (really afternoon) when we finally woke up (came to), we were alone in our LZ. :-) Did some Railroad bridge jumping (upstream from NR Gorge Bridge), partying hard, and then serious whitewater down a river that was running hard that year. We made it there and back - didn't lose anyone, didn't leave any behind, all present and accounted for back at HQMC. Outstanding trip. "Rivers" is still there and worth the trip!

Response by LCpl Steffen C. made Jul 21 at 2021 6:11 PM

LCpl Steffen C. — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 18:11:35 -0400

I have a pretty good one. Back when my brother and I were roughly 12 years old, our dad thought it would be a fun idea to play hooky from school and go out for a one day camping trip. Being kids, my brother and I were ecstatic to ditch school and go out to the wilderness to do some fishing. We travelled out to a prominent river area that was close to the campsite and tried our luck at fishing. Nothing was snagging on our lines and we stood out there for a good hour before deciding to move up the river a bit. We eventually spotted a small bridge and thought that would be a good place to cast our lines. When we looked down, there was a frenzy of fish just waiting to grab at our lines. As soon as we put our lures into the water, a fish would hook right on and be pulled up. This was possibly the craziest fishing I have ever done and we were just reeling them in like a Marine drinks a beer. Unknown to us, a news team decided to stop by the bridge and noticed us catching fish. They came up and asked to record us fishing because they were doing a news segment on the return of wildlife to the river because of a bad chemical spill a decade or so ago. So, there we were, my brother, my dad, and I, on the news catching fish. Once the news crew packed up and left, we realized that this was going to air in our town and our teachers would realize we called in sick from school to go fishing... Long story short, this is an experience I don't think I will ever forget with my family.

Response by SPC James Cooke made Jul 21 at 2021 6:46 PM

SPC James Cooke — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 18:46:13 -0400

My last camping trip while in Boy Scouts, we got hit by a surprise storm and subsequent flood. I'm a heavy sleeper that slept through tornado sirens while at Fort Riley. At the camp site, I wake up to my back being wet, thinking I must have been hot and sweated. Nope. Woke up to the group's tent flooded. My group left with the responsible adult to a nearby hotel and we slept there until sunrise.

Fun time.

(Not saying that this made my decision to walk away from Boy Scouts. It ultimately came down to my schedule while also playing baseball.)

Response by SFC Patrick M. made Jul 21 at 2021 6:47 PM

SFC Patrick M. — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 18:47:47 -0400

My best camping experience was the first time I went camping with my daughters as Girl Scouts. We went to the Daniel Boone homestead in PA. We had a wonderful time and the girls I had trained won the First Aide competition

Response by SGT Robert Cooper made Jul 21 at 2021 7:21 PM

SGT Robert Cooper — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 19:21:14 -0400

I got out of the Navy and had to go back to Army boot camp(yes, all 10 weeks). On our last field exercise, we got ambushed by one of the drill sergeants in base camp. I directed my squad and we were able to get one of our Privates around the back of the drill sergeant, and he noticed a second too late. So he dropped his weapon and took off down a dry creek bed, and the private went right after him and took him down. I would have called him off, but I was laughing too hard.

Response by SSgt Walter Finley made Jul 21 at 2021 7:52 PM

SSgt Walter Finley — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 19:52:23 -0400

Went camping in Virginia with a friend. Lost my car keys, long before cell phones. We had to hike 3 miles in rain to get help, and eventually had to get the car towed to town. That cost me over $100 in 1977 dollars!

Response by SPC Don Mathis made Jul 21 at 2021 8:19 PM

SPC Don Mathis — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 20:19:20 -0400

A funny thing happened… (by Don Mathis, [login to see] )
A friend that once lived on the edge of the desert outside Del Rio told me how he kept critters out of his garden. “I pee around the fence,” he said. “Animals know when you have marked your territory and they won’t trespass.”
Years later, I found myself camping in Cherokee National Forest in the Great Smokey Mountains with my eight-year-old son. When it was time to turn in, to save a trip to the latrine (or kill a spot of grass) I instructed Charlie to help me pee around our campsite, “So the bears won’t get us.”
He looked at me skeptically but I kept a straight fact and explained the Tennessee woods were full of bears. “Davy Crocket killed a fair share of them, but there’s still a few left,” I said. “And you remember that sign about Smokey the Bear.”
I must have been making sense because he dutifully walked clockwise around the tent, peeing as he went. I did the same counterclockwise.
A week later we were at his Grandma’s house in Tulsa. She had one of her church lady friends over for lunch and they wanted to know all about our adventures driving from Texas to Washington, D.C., and back.
Charlie started telling them about our camping episode. I tried to divert his attention, to get him to change the direction of his spiel. But Mom’s friend wanted Charlie to tell it.
Both ladies were laughing hysterically and I was thoroughly embarrassed as my son finished telling his tale. “And it worked,” Charlie concluded. “The bears didn’t get us!”
They howled with laughter. I melted with shame – but proud my son had expressed the anecdote so eloquently.

Response by SSG Hank Ortega made Jul 21 at 2021 8:48 PM

SSG Hank Ortega — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 20:48:07 -0400

My young bride and I decided our Honeymoon would be hiking the Sierra Nevada Range from Kern River, to Lake Tahoe, with all the sites and sights in between. We liked it enough we did it again every summer for 4 years, and kept bringing our kids to selected areas, after they started coming along. On one of our trips, we had taken a side trip to Castle Crags State Park. It was 12 bucks to get in. In 1974, that was a ton of money to me, so we said, no thanks, and headed up the stream running along the road outside the park. We found a little place on the creek whee someone had brought in several tons of pumice gravel to make a camp site, and dropped a rickety old table, and made a fire ring. Hotcha! This is the place. We set up camp cooked a quick meal of instant rice and soup mix, with gatorade powder in a canteen cup mixed with Shaklee's Instant protein. It was all delicious. We lay around, I fished, the sun started creeping down. She bathed in water she brought up from the stream, I dove into the eddy that had dug a deep pool. The air was warm and crisply dry at that altitude, so we changed into light clothing, and as it got dusky, we crawled into our bag and did some reading. When the evening had reached that point that it was dark under the pines, but still a little light in the sky above, we heard something scratching and breaking limbs high above us. I shined a meager flashlight into the trees but couldn't see anything identifiable as a threat.
We waited some more, listening to branches and pine cones falling to the ground. It was large. Ikept thingking (hoping) it was a Raccoon. It wasn't.
AS it got lower I began to see that it was a larger hulk, black against black in the dark understory. It reached the bottom of the tree, on the opposite side from our camp, then hove into view, a large bear.
the bear realized we were there, and stood up. OK, not so large, but definitely old enough to travel by itself, and at least a year old. Approximately 200 lbs.
He snuffed, and grunted a few times, trying to see us, but we were hidden by the grey tent, and the darkness of the opening. It knew something was there, but it looked like a large boulder. It could smell our cooking, even though we had put out the stove, and cleaned everything up. Suddenly it bristled, and huffed, snapping its jaws. It shook it's head, a few time, growled and took off running into the forest. We listened for a long time until all trace of sound was gone. It was now fully dark.
My sweet little bride asked me if I thought we should leave. I figured that animal was startled enough to leave in a hurry, it probably left for parts unknown. Famous last words.
We talked about alternatives, and I decided upon standing watch. While we talked I got up and gathered a bunch of the largest stones I thought I could throw with effect, but all I could find were pumice rocks. I had already been floating these down the creek, so I know they were like throwing ping pong balls or balsa wood. I had quite a pile of them by the tent door.
I decided, I would stay up half the night and she would stay up the other half.
"You first", I said, and rolled over. I promptly went to sleep. Old Infantry soldier.
I awoke to her shaking me.
"Your turn", she said.
"Wait, whut?", I checked my watch. It was only midnight.
"Hey, I only slept for two hours!"
"Well, that's half the night. Your turn."
She promptly rolled over, and went to sleep. I lay there on my belly and watched the stars wheel overhead. I checked the packs for tightness, and moved them to a better spot. I read by a ever-weakening flashlight, and waited for morning. About 4:30, it seemed like it was getting slightly grey in the east. by 5 it was definitely greying, and I could see light just touching the tree-tips, or the pines towering over head. It was still pitch-black under the tightly packed trees. not a sound, except the rush of the stream. No birds or squirrels were moving yet. Nothing larger, either.
I wated a few minutes longer, then told my bride, "
"Hey, it's morning. I told you he wasn't coming back" Again with the famous last words.
I looked over at her to determine if she'd heard me and awakened. Her long curly hair, was splayed out around her head like a halo. She lay on her back breathing softly. She was at peace.
I took another look around and saw that it was clearly morning, and I was ready for a nap.
I looked around then lay down and rolled my face to the tent wall. I shrugged my shoulders and hips to dig into the pumice for supreme comfort then as I sighed, and started to drift off, I rolled my head around to take one last look over my shoulder, at my bride and the camp beyond.
There was that bear. He looked a lot larger now with the full light of morning, and up close.
How close?
His paws were standing on my wife's hair, where it was arrayed around her head. his nose was pointed straight down almost touching her nose, and he was breathing in her exhalations, (we'd had brownies late that night before). My turning my head, caused him to turn his head my way, looking down his nose at me, with those blood-shot piggy eyes.
I spun in my bed, bringing my left fist up and striking the animal dead on the end of his nose as hard as I could, all the while screaming at the top of my lungs. the shock went clear up my arm, though I hardly felt a thing. I could, though feel the crunch of gristle in his nose, and his teeth against my knuckles. His eyes closed, and blood began pouring out as he sat back and began sneezing, blowing snot and blood all over the tent flap and ground in front of him. I came to my knees, dressed only in a pair of cut-off jeans, and stepped out of the tent, I snatched up several of the rocks i had pre-placed and began throwing them with all my might, still shouting and roaring. The rocks flew like they were filled with helium. Totally ineffective. If you have never thrown a pumice rock, give it a try. they bounced off the bear's back, and rolled down to the ground. The bear shambled off, looking more embarrassed than frightened.
I turned back to my wife as the bear went into the trees, NO WIFE!
The tent lay empty, the bag rumpled where I had crawled out. What had happened. Was there another bear? Had I imagined her there, and she was already taken? Did she run away and leave me to face the bear by myself?
I hollered for her, and thought I heard something. I hollered again, yes, definitely something.
I approached the tent, and lifted the opening of the bag.
There, way down at the bottom of the bag, she was curled up in a small ball. I said, "The bear is gone for now."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
She sprung out, gave me a look that spoke volumes and began to collapse the tent without a word.
As we left the idyllic campsite, she told me that when she heard me shout, she opened her eyes, expecting to see me being eaten by the bear. Instead, she looked straight into the bear's slightly opened jaws, and smelled it's awful breath, instantly darting to the bottom of the sleeping bag.
That was 47 years ago. We never once after that day, went camping without a firearm. Ever.

Response by SPC Kristal Kent made Jul 21 at 2021 8:53 PM

SPC Kristal Kent — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 20:53:53 -0400

Mohican state park in Ohio is great! Camping, hiking, boating, fishing, nature trails, lake swimming etc. Fun to go with a small group, large group or with the family. You can tent camping, RV camping (they have full hook up) or Cabin camping.

https://ohiodnr.gov/wps/portal/gov/odnr/go-and-do/plan-a-visit/find-a-property/mohican-state-park

Mohican State Park

Located in northeastern Ohio, the 1,110-acre Mohican State Park and the adjacent 4,525-acre state forest offer outstanding opportunities for visitors to explore one of Ohio's most stunning natural regions.

Response by SGT Tomas "Huey" Husted made Jul 21 at 2021 9:30 PM

SGT Tomas "Huey" Husted — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 21:30:57 -0400

One afternoon my wife, a friend and myself were fishing on Lake Fork in east Texas. The impoundment was finally filled up to mean water level and all the timber, trees and brush was under water. We decided to tie up to a very large tree and we were fishing down through the limbs of the tree. Well the crappie were biting great until the wind came up and basically blew us off our fishing spot. So I put the trolling motor down so I could reposition the boat. I was about to tie up the boat by throwing a line around the tree when I noticed a large hole in the tree. It looked large enough for an owl or some other large bird. I threw the rope around the tree and I was pulling the slack out which pulled us closer to the tree. As I looked into this rather large hole in the tree the whole inside of the tree seemed to be alive and moving. With a flashlight we had in the boat all three of us were looking into this hole. At first I didn't comprehend what I was seeing because there was movement everywhere. Finally there they were staring back at us. Inside that tree was a huge and I mean huge ball of water moccasins. I have never seen so many snakes in one spot in all my life. Let alone poisonous snakes. I don't know who screamed loudest my wife or my friend, me, I cut the rope that held us to that tree and got out of that area darn quick. For the next three years I stayed clear of that area especially if my wife was fishing with me.

Response by SrA Susan Leonard made Jul 21 at 2021 9:56 PM

SrA Susan Leonard — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 21:56:20 -0400

We were going camping with the guys for the weekend and were allowed to bring dogs. We pull up to the campsite; the dog jumps out and spots a rabbit. And off we went, it looked like the keystone cops. The rabbit ran, the dog ran, we ran along with a couple coworkers. We ran forever before the pup finally ran out of steam lol. It’s funny now but not so much then.

Response by PFC Terrie Cadovich made Jul 21 at 2021 10:06 PM

PFC Terrie Cadovich — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 22:06:37 -0400

My best camping stories are with my family. When my daughters were old enough to meet “boys” at the campgrounds I never had to worry they would come back to their tent. My brother in law snored so loud, so aggressively he sounded like a bear at times! Scared those kids everytime! Lol

Response by SGT Antonio Orozco made Jul 21 at 2021 10:35 PM

SGT Antonio Orozco — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 22:35:52 -0400

So no shit there I was in the middle of a lake on the mountains near Colorado springs. We had rented a canoe at fort Carsons Mwr. We were fishing for dinner when my buddy gets up to take a leak. He slips falls on the canoe. Flips it and we lost most of our gear. He started swimming to shore and left me by myself. I was trying to keep the canoe from sinking as I didn't want to have to pay for it. Luckily I was able to get it out of the water. We kept fishing from the shore. Caught some rainbow trout and had them for dinner. The end...

Response by MSgt Private RallyPoint Member made Jul 21 at 2021 10:43 PM

MSgt Private RallyPoint Member — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 22:43:04 -0400

I think my favorite hunting story is from years ago. I used to go deer hunting in the UP every November with my Dad, Grandpa & older brother. Dad & I always hunted relatively close to each other while Grandpa's stand was a bit more of a walk (my brother's was way in the back 40). We usually spend morning & evening post in our blinds but during the afternoon, Dad often walks around looking for Christmas trees. One year, when I was maybe 12 or 13, I headed back to the truck to meet Dad & Grandpa after afternoon post. Dad had come across a buck. It was perfectly positioned to be clearly visible but not shot. That didn't stop the 3 of us from trying. Dad let me take the first crack. I think I took 2 or 3 shots & it didn't move. Then Dad took a few more shots with his rifle. Eventually Grandpa showed up. He didn't fare any better. Eventually somebody (can't remember if it was Dad or Grandpa) pulled out their sidearm & damn near emptied half a clip. The dang thing just stood there. We all went back into the farmhouse without a deer but the story kept everyone laughing every time it was told for the rest of camp.

Response by SPC Michael Swearingen made Jul 21 at 2021 11:29 PM

SPC Michael Swearingen — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 23:29:45 -0400

I have many memorable adventures. One that I had was when my cousin Don and I were going to Backpack into the Eddeeleo lakes. They are ten miles from Waldo lake which is or was the fifth purest water in the world or at least it did in the 70's. I had a 1962 Chevy pickup we were going to use to get us there. When I arrived at Don's house at 5am we noticed that my truck was leaking oil. So we had to wait several hours for the auto parts store to open. They didn't have the part so we tried the Chevy dealer and the nearest one that had the part was a hour away. We went and picked up the part and we were on our way. We were quite a bit behind schedule so we camped out at Waldo lake and started at first light in the morning. I started wondering about Don with some of his comments. We had camped for hunting and fishing before with our fathers , uncles and cousins but always by pickups not packing in remote. We got pretty eatten up by mosquitos there at Waldo. the farther we went away from Waldo to the Eddeelo lakes the mosquitos dissapeared. We arrived about noon and started fishing for dinner. fishing from a log extending into the lake I was trying to keep my lure close to the bottom of the lake. It got hung up and I couldn't free it so I thought that I would dive in and retrieve it.The water was super clear, it looked about ten feet deep, the water was fairly warm on top. So I striped down and dove in. I got about ten feet deep and the water was freezing cold and it still looked ten feet down so up to the surface I went. Went back to camp and set up the tent, gathered wood for the fire. Fixed lunch then went fishing again, caught several nice Rainbow Trout 20" size for dinner. We sat around the fire talking with a beautiful sunset. As soon as the Sun set the coyotes started to sing on the other side of the Lake. I could see that Don was getting nervous when then asked if they were wolves. I told him no it was just coyotes. i was getting tired and it was getting late and was going to hit the rack. He asked for my 357 that I had brought, I asked him for what. Don said just to be safe since he was going to stay up awhile longer. The coyotes keep up the howeling and sing most of the night on the other side of the lake. When I got up Don was already up with no firewood left that we had gathered and aslo what others had left. I asked how well he had slept, He stated that he had stayed up all night and he was leaving and then left. So after breakfast I packed then hiked out. I caught up with him at Waldo lake at the Truck. I thought we were going to have a enjoyable trip before Football practice and School started. I have many more but we can only enter one. Some with my cousin Don as the center of the piece.

Response by HA Michael Caplin made Jul 21 at 2021 11:30 PM

HA Michael Caplin — Wed, 21 Jul 2021 23:30:27 -0400

When I was 10 we where camping in a national park and I would sleep outside off the ground on a camping cot. During the time we stayed I befriended a family of skunks, they actually became so comfortable with me that one morning I was awaken by my mom whisper screaming at me to not move! I wondered why she was so excited but trying to control herself she had a look of utter horror on her face. She was frantically telling me as quietly as she could that I had a family of skunks sleeping on me, to which I replied oh yeah that's George and his family there is Mama, George jr., little Georgie, and Greg. (I had named them all after the old Bugs Bunny cartoons) I told her they where my friends and proceeded to pet them, Mom was shocked and couldn't believe that wild skunks where behaving this way. The Skunks came back each night to sleep with me until we packed up to leave.

Response by SGT Amanda Pogue made Jul 22 at 2021 12:03 AM

SGT Amanda Pogue — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 00:03:01 -0400

I'm a big fan of car camping. I have an SUV tent that attaches to my vehicle... I can sleep in the back of my SUV with the protection of a tent. One night, with my two cats and my dog in the back with me, I suddenly woke up to my dog barking and both cats screaming... A man was standing just outside the back window, just staring at me. I instinctively grabbed my knife and sat up, holding it. He just smiled and walked away... After my heart rate slowed down, I quickly packed up and drove away. Thank god for my overprotective babies. ❤

Response by PO1 Kim Arbaugh made Jul 22 at 2021 12:07 AM

PO1 Kim Arbaugh — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 00:07:05 -0400

Kodiak Island hosts the largest Coast Guard base in all of the United States. Alaska has more coastline than all the lower 48 states combined. I had the privilege of serving for a total of ten years in the 1970’s, 80’s and 90’s at Kodiak. In 1985 my buddy Ike and I embarked on a commercial fishing boat to the big island of Afognak just North of Kodiak, for a ten-day elk and deer hunt. After a rough passage, we arrived at Duck Bay in Mary Anderson Cove. We took a small boat ashore where the giant spruce trees of the boreal rain forest descend from the mountains all the way to the high tide line. It was October and a light snow was falling. We climbed a hill late in the afternoon. Below was a beautiful gleaming frozen lake. We decided to split-up and meet on the far side of the lake. The lake was deceptively large and it was near dark when I reached the other side and Ike was not there. Then I heard three quick rifle shots, an indication of an emergency. I pushed on and a few minutes later I found Ike. He was soaking wet, exhausted and disoriented. I feared hypothermia was settling into his body. He told me he tried to cross the lake on foot and fell through ice. He was able to keep his head above water and his arms pulled his body out and stomach crawl to the shore. His rifle slipped from his arms before he took his icy plunge. He very slowly walks with me back to the small boat, then aboard the fishing boat to warm dry clothes and hot brewsky (coffey). This is only one of the many adventures I had while stationed in Alaska for over 17 years.

Response by SA Philip Price made Jul 22 at 2021 12:09 AM

SA Philip Price — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 00:09:54 -0400

I was in the Blueridge Mountains staying at a Cabin on the Skyline Drive. I awoke early in the morning and went out to gather some firewood. I'd been to this park a number of times and I know the especially in the fall, there are bears looking to eat anything to get ready for winter. I experienced a momma bear and two cups a few years earlier taking over my campsite so bears were on my mind. As a gather wood, I heard a noise just over my shoulder, a quick glance of brown fur was enough to get me moving. I heard the distinct thud of heavy paws hitting the ground behind me. Would I make it to the cabin? I just kept moving as the thuds grew louder and closer. As I reached for the door, he was on me. Yep, attacked but the largest St. Bernard pup I'd ever seen... licked to death and he took a piece of my firewood.

Response by SP5 Jason Rivera made Jul 22 at 2021 12:30 AM

SP5 Jason Rivera — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 00:30:31 -0400

You can’t go wrong with Camping out at Trillium lake with Man’s best friend.

Trillium lake and view of Mt. Hood

Response by PO3 Jjlg2dc Texas made Jul 22 at 2021 12:34 AM

PO3 Jjlg2dc Texas — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 00:34:16 -0400

My 13R friend (you're only allowed one) and I after years of hoping and planning managed to get an opening weekend opportunity to hunt Fort Pickett in Virginia. Our first day was fantastic, saw a bunch of doe and got a good read on the area. Our second day started very early to get in before anyone else started moving around. It was mid teens cold when we got in the truck and as we pulled to the side of the road on the north side to start our hike into the woods, I saw a dog in my mirror almost glowing in the brake light and exhaust heat. At first I was startled, because seeing a white dog with a red glow in your mirror at 0300 in freezing temperatures will never make sense. I could see he had a tracking collar on and it was obvious that this was someone's hunting dog. He was a little skittish, but I managed to get him to let me wrap him up in an old jacket I had, and I found a name on his collar but no number. I googled the guys name thinking maybe he ran guided hunts or something and I might find a phone number, instead I found a news article about an 18 year old young man who had recently been killed in a car accident. The article identified the young man's parents as survived by relatives, you know like the obituary does. I poured some coffee and put considered whether or not to reach out not knowing how to address the situation. After getting the dog to eat the sandwich I brought and considering it was already daylight, I decided to search for the mother on Facebook, understanding that there ain't really a lot going on near Fort Pickett Virginia, I figured it was very likely that she had a profile. I found her page with a news article about her son's car accident and decided to message her my phone number and an explanation. 30 minutes or so later a man called me and explained that he was the father and that the young man's two dogs had gotten lose a few days prior and they had found one that was killed by a car. He was so excited to have the dog back that he immediately asked for directions and said he would come right away. As I explained where I was, the dad choked in "and that's where you found the dog"? Turned out the dog was likely waiting at the wood line where he and the deceased young man had hunted several times. I had long realized that my chances of hunting this particular day were shot, but maybe I could save the dog.

Response by PO1 Courtney Smythe made Jul 22 at 2021 12:42 AM

PO1 Courtney Smythe — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 00:42:21 -0400

My dad grew up vacationing at Bass Lake with his family and when I was stationed at China Lake, him and I drove from China Lake to the north entrance of Yosemite, through the park and, to Bass Lake where we camped and hiked and fished for a few days. My dad shared memories and stories and we hiked one of his favorite trails. Getting to have that experience with my dad and him being able to share this place with me was the best and is a memory I will always cherish.

Response by SP5 Jason Rivera made Jul 22 at 2021 12:53 AM

SP5 Jason Rivera — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 00:53:51 -0400

Response by PO3 Monica Zink Davenport made Jul 22 at 2021 1:12 AM

PO3 Monica Zink Davenport — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 01:12:58 -0400

Most memorable..probably not “best”…camping story…we got to our campsite just before dark and things became a comedy of errors and nothing, literally nothing went right..started raining soon after we arrived, camp stove flat out would not work, tent roof nylon ripped as a branch tore through it, air mattress sprang a leak leaving nothing but the hard ground…ended up spending most of the weekend in Kmart replacing gear…yes, checked gear prior to outing just didn’t work out..

Response by SrA Jerry Burris made Jul 22 at 2021 1:23 AM

SrA Jerry Burris — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 01:23:55 -0400

I went on a camping trip once in Oregon in late September to Badger Lake by Mt. Hood. Everything was fine and dandy except for yellow jackets, everywhere. When I mean everywhere, I mean like in the scrambled eggs, tents and our hammocks. It was the most yellow jackets I had ever seen in my life. Literally thousands of them. It made the weekend bothersome but it did not damper any shenanigans thankfully! Oh I and also almost threw a firecracker in my buddies face. He was not happy, luckily he didn’t get hurt :) fun times had by all!

Response by SGT Jeff Long made Jul 22 at 2021 1:32 AM

SGT Jeff Long — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 01:32:14 -0400

My brother and I go camping at Enchanted Rock. I grabbed my Osprey, which looked full to the brim meaning it was safe to assume it had my tent, sleeping bag, and mat inside. Boy was I wrong! We get to our spot and I cannot find my tent inside. His was a one man variety. It drops to 28 degrees F that night so I wear everything I brought that night and jam myself in my sleeping bag which thankfully was inside. I made it through the night and woke up far wiser than I was before.

Response by SSgt Private RallyPoint Member made Jul 22 at 2021 4:09 AM

SSgt Private RallyPoint Member — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 04:09:26 -0400

My wife and I bought 14 acres just north of the Twin Cites in Minnesota. I was so pumped to go bow hunting! My father in law is from New Mexico and had never been hunting before. He said he wanted to try it so I told him I’d take him out with me. Being from out of state he had to spend $180 on a tag so I said the first thing with antlers that walks in front of you I’d shoot it. We sat in my ground blind together a couple times so I could kind of show him the ropes, which he caught on pretty quick. It was early November peak rut so I told him let’s sit in separate stands because the deer are really going to be moving. The next morning we got all out gear together and went our separate ways to our tree stands. About 30 minutes or so after shooting light he texted me “I forgot my bow release.” I texted him back that he should make sure there are no deer around him and slowly get down and walk back to the house to get his release. From my stand I could see him walk out and back into the woods. I thought for sure our hunt was over, we probably wouldn’t see anything the rest of the morning. I kid you not 20 minutes or so after I saw him walk back into the woods he texted me “Buck down!” I replied back you’re kidding me! He said nope walked right in front of the stand at 20 yards and I smoked him! It might not be the biggest deer ever but it’s definitely the weirdest one I’ve seen. Super glad I was able to share this moment with my father in law and he has a fun story to go along with the first buck he harvested.

Response by CPT L J made Jul 22 at 2021 4:10 AM

CPT L J — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 04:10:57 -0400

We packed up the car and headed to camp for the weekend. As we were setting up our tent we noticed we were the ONLY ones in a tent. We thought, ha, look at all these glampers in their fancy RV's and campers... We had all sorts of encounters: raccoons stole our marshmallows and we even busted an armadillo in our tent (who tore a small hole on his way out). There was a small storm through the night so the next morning we were cleaning up our site when some RV'ing neighbors came over and said they were happy to see we survived the night. We said, ehh it was just a small storm! They were like, no not from the storm, from the GATORS!! We were camping at an ALLIGATOR PARK. No woooonder everyone was in campers!! OMG we could have been eaten alive. Needless to say, we did not stay for night two...

Response by SPC Michael Duricko, Ph.D made Jul 22 at 2021 7:23 AM

SPC Michael Duricko, Ph.D — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 07:23:49 -0400

After reading through these exciting experiences, someone, somehow, should bind these into a book of "OUTDOOR EXPERIENCES " which is not only fun, enjoyable and exciting to read but loaded with many dos and don'ts as you read through the stories. Congratulations everyone who wrote a story you're all WINNERS in my book!

Response by PO1 Matt Sullivan made Jul 22 at 2021 8:03 AM

PO1 Matt Sullivan — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 08:03:46 -0400

I hadn't been deer hunting in quite a while and my cousin and I decided to camp in Shenandoah, VA and go hunting. We went to bed early that night, around 9pm, and it was raining. I was in a 2 man tent, which is not really big enough for one grown man on a cot. So my cot was diagonal and my head was in a corner of the tent. I woke up at midnight, despite the nice pitter patter of the rain - something felt off and I had a surge of real fear. Just then, I heard something large sniff my ear through the tent. I laid frozen. Hearing whatever it was move past, I slowly got up and grabbed my pistol, no sitting mostly naked in my cot with a pistol wondering what was happening. I quietly opened the window of my tent to see a black bear rummaging through our camp. As soon as I shined a light on him, he disappeared.
We didn't get a deer on the trip, but I did learn that I need a bigger tent in the future and the need to better plan for bears!

Response by SCPO Private RallyPoint Member made Jul 22 at 2021 8:32 AM

SCPO Private RallyPoint Member — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 08:32:00 -0400

A quick one. My oldest son and I went on a couple of father son hikes with church group to Old Rag Mountain in VA when he was young. It was a somewhat typical "come on son, you can make it, I am not going to carry you" hike. Years later he is AD stationed in WA and we hike a Mt. Townsend trail, and by the 4th switchback he is saying "cmon dad, you can make it, I can't carry you". I am sure he enjoyed getting me back.

Response by CPT Danie Martin made Jul 22 at 2021 8:56 AM

CPT Danie Martin — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 08:56:35 -0400

Thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail in 2004 I had an interesting wildlife encounter. From my trail journal:
May 25 2004, Saltlog Gap Campsite, Southern Virginia

After an early thunderstorm little did I know that the morning excitement was just beginning. As I lay contemplating a late start to let things dry out, I heard the scuffling of a small animal outside my tent. I had brought my food bag in when the rain started so I assumed it was a racoon and yelled "Get lost!" in a loud voice. To my horror, a black and white streak disappeared into the shadows. I had yelled at a skunk!

I was feeling relieved that it had left when back it came. It clamped it's teeth on the door zipper, grabbing hold of a hiking boot inside as well. I gently pulled the boot away and it let go of the fabric only to scratch away at the wall and try to burrow under the floor.

"Please go away" I pleaded, to no avail. Soon it was starting under the floor. I carefully used the boot to shove it gently out again but it tried again. Again and again the skunk tried to get in, from every side; getting underneath, chewing at the door, clambering up the wall and gazing at me through the mesh. Meanwhile I fended it off as best I could, but never too forcefully lest it decide to spray me.

It became clear that it was not after my food or my boots and did not care that I was there, it just wanted IN! It would keep it up as long as the tent was there, so during a lull in the action I started packing. At first I followed my usual neat orderly packing but when it returned to chew at the door zipper and would not let go for anything I just threw things in willy-nilly. When the skunk let go to run around and try its luck on the tent rear I snuck out the door and brought out my pack. I turned to pull the stake for the front awning and start taking the tent down when behind me I heard a scuffling of fabric.

"Oh no" I moaned, "Not inside!"

Not exactly. When I looked in I saw a skunk-sized mound in the floor. While it was exploring the basement I gingerly reached over the wriggling mound and plucked out the last few items. Then I cautiously removed my trekking poles holding the tent up. Taking no chances, I picked up everything I had so far and carried it a prudent distance away. Then I went back to pull the stakes and ever so cautiously pulled the tent off the skunk. At first it seemed about to grab a stake loop before it got out of reach and play tug-of-war. But it noticed the groundsheet and started worrying and burrowing at that while I took the tent to my pack and stuffed it into its sack. Finally I went back and got the groundsheet. Only then did the skunk give up and shuffle into the underbrush. Worried that it might return, I grabbed my pack and dashed, not even stopping to adjust the trekking poles to the right length for walking until I was a quarter mile away.

How I escaped getting sprayed, I'll never know.

Response by MSgt Mike Ekshtut made Jul 22 at 2021 9:09 AM

MSgt Mike Ekshtut — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 09:09:27 -0400

With all of life's challenges and stresses, we all need time [regularly] to decompress and "get away from it all". A couple of months ago I took a long weekend for myself to do just that. I went and spent a few days with friends up in the Golan Heights. Wait, where?!?... Isn't that in Israel?

Yep. After a 26+ year career in both the Marines and in the Air Force, both active and Reserve, I retired from the AF in August 2016 and moved there with the family shortly thereafter. It's certainly has been an adventure living here, and one of the best life decisions I ever made.

Now Israel is a very small country, roughly the size of New Jersey, but amazingly it has mostly all of the geographical and climate features one would find in the U.S. In the hotter spring/summer months, one of the best and more remote places to go for an outdoors experience and a weekend getaway is up to the Golan Heights. Or as I dubbed it, 'the Montana of the Middle East'.
On Sunday, I decided to go for a long solo hike on a portion of the Golan Trail. This revered path begins at Mount Hermon, Israel’s tallest mountain, and only ski resort, and heads down through the hills all the way to the Sea of Galilee, the lowest freshwater lake in the world. I only took on about an 18 km portion of this 125 km trail.

My buddy, another US vet (Army) who lives nearby, was not interested in humping in the heat, forecast to be about 85 deg. F. that day. We left the house at about 0620 and left my car at the end point of my hike, a picnic area near the biblical city of Gamla. He then drove me to the starting point, to a place called, Tel Hushnia. These are the ruins of an ancient Arab town that date back to Ottoman period, about 500 years old. I didn't mind going solo.

I started hiking at about 0650 and already I could feel the heat of the day kicking in. During the course of my trek I passed several historic and biblical ruins, some dating as far back as the Bronze Age, about 3000 years ago.

The first part of my walk started through orchards, animal pastures and along the sloped banks of a narrow irrigation canal. I suspect that this canal was formerly an anti-tank ditch, which are pretty common in this area since the whole Golan Heights was a major battlefield in the Six-Day War. More on this later. I also observed that I wasn't alone during this hike. I had the buzzing flies as my constant companions trying to catch a free ride.

After several kilometers, I arrived at a marshy wooded area named Einot Peham, an officially designated Nature Preserve. What else is officially designated is that this area is still also a marked mine field! The ubiquitous upside-down red triangle "Danger Mines!" signs were clearly written in Hebrew, Arabic and English, and posted right next to my path of travel. Another remanent left over from the Six-Day War.

Prior to this war in June of 1967, the Syrians controlled the Golan Heights and planted thousands of mines all over place in this occupied DMZ. Unfortunately, they didn't create many, or detailed, maps of the locations of these mines. Hence, many of these fields still remained after the war, and still pose a certain uncertain amount of danger to the careless trespasser or stray cow. I came across several other such mine fields during my hike that day. Luckily these mine fields are fenced off with barbed wire and mostly well marked.

Between the mine field on my left and a near impassible ravine, stream, marsh on my right, I was stuck having to ford a knee deep, 40-meter wide, channel of muddy irrigation water in order to continue my journey. This is when the heel blisters started.

Luckily, being a former Boy Scout as well, I was prepared with a small first aid kit that included moleskin. I found a shady place under a carob tree to stop. I wrang out my socks and insoles, applied the moleskin dressings to my heels and then had a snack. I then continued to march.

About 5 km later I came across another remnant of the war, an 105 mm artillery or tank shell carrier. The writing on it was Hebrew, but too blurry to read. One normally doesn't find such items outside of a firing range or military training area. Too bad that it was too big to take home as a souvenir. I did take a selfie with it.

The moleskin helped immensely but the blisters continued to reminded me that they were still there throughout the next 14 or so klicks of my hike. Nevertheless, they did not detract from the fantastic time I was having during my carefree outing. They only added to the magnificent adventure that I was having that day.

And so did the wild boar that I almost ran into three hours later. But that experience will be shared in another post.

Response by TSgt Larry Abernathy made Jul 22 at 2021 9:20 AM

TSgt Larry Abernathy — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 09:20:37 -0400

I have 2 camping stories I would like to share. Both of these happened while I was a kid/teenager. Just about every year, our family would travel to the Great Smoky Mountains and camp. We would drive a pop-up camper to Townsend, TN, set it up, and spend several days there. Back then, Townsend was very quiet with only a half dozen or so campgrounds, local stores, restaurants, etc. Each time, we would take at least 2 trips to Cades Cove to walk the trails, visit the old houses, churches, & other buildings, have a picnic, etc. One year, I believe we had just pulled up to the Abrams Falls parking area for the 2.5 mile hike to the falls, one of our favorite hikes. This was a popular area, so many cars were already there. As we were preparing to start our journey, we noticed a commotion among some people nearby. We walked over, and found that there was a baby bear walking around all of the cars parked there. People were keeping their distance, but following him/her to take pictures and stuff. A Ford Mustang convertible was parked in the area with the top down. We watched as the bear climbed into the driver's seat and sat down. It bit into the steering wheel and tore the seat some as it was sitting there. Then, it just climbed back out, and wandered off into the woods. It turns out the car was a rental, and the people using it were not around, probably already hiking. Someone left them a note saying Yogi had damaged their car.
The second event happened when I was an older teen. My dad woke me up early one morning so he and I could drive the 11 mile loop at Cades Cove to see how many deer we could count. Our plan was to be one of the first vehicles for the day. No one else wanted to go with us, so it was just him and me. Back then, hunting was not allowed anywhere in the Smokies. As we drove the loop, we saw herds of 40-50 deer, maybe even more, in one place. We counted around 280 deer before leaving the park, and it's possible we missed a few that we couldn't see. I would say that the ratio would have been about half bucks, half doe. The deer were used to people in vehicles coming to look at them, and just kept eating in the fields as we drove by.

Response by SGT Private RallyPoint Member made Jul 22 at 2021 9:22 AM

SGT Private RallyPoint Member — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 09:22:57 -0400

My best camping trip was when no one wanted to go camping w/me. No one wanted to sleep in a tent in the coldest month of the year. I told them this was the challenge, can you do it with me? I got a flat nope, so I went alone. My 1st camping in a tent after leaving the military alone. I got lost and had to call DNR. He took me to an RV site which I said was wrong b/c I renting a tent site. He said, "ma'am, that site is closed for the winter, no one really camps in a tent this time of year so we will place you in an RV site." I got the felling he was laughing at me silently. Got to the site, I had never been there so I asked about alligators, what if I have an issue do I call 911 or who, what happens if I see a snake, what if the water rises, (my tent was beside the lake and I can't swim), etc. I didn't want him to leave but of course they can't stay with me. I started setting up my tent and it started to rain and by the way, it was about 30 degrees. Cold, wet and by myself I started to cry while continuing to set up my tent; I told myself I was stupid to do this by myself in the cold. I looked around and the RVers were of course in their nice cozy RVs. It got dark while setting up my tent so I had to put up my tent in the dark in an unknown place (had a light on my head). Finally got it up, got my things inside, changed into some dry clothes, and sat down for the night. After all that, I said to myself, "wow, I did it, in one of the coldest months, and by myself." I did it. I now go every January for the last 5 years, by myself, no distractions, no cars going by, just me and nature.

Response by Amn Steven Heugel made Jul 22 at 2021 10:29 AM

Amn Steven Heugel — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 10:29:48 -0400

So my four year old son Jacob and I are out "indian hunting" amongst acres of park in Elyria, Ohio. I saw a few folks walking and stated: "look the indians, hide!" We then found two "digging spears" (sticks) and began to dig for buried treasure. I asked God to let us find something where we were about to dig. One dig, two digs, and BAM out rolls a penny! Out of acres & acres of land, I stuck the stick right where (somehow) a penny was buried! Jacob excitedly stated, look Daddy, money! I explained that I asked God to let us find treasure and that all money states "In God We Trust" and thus a lesson was taught that day, that even in the "small" things, we can trust God in all things! He will never forget that day, I'm sure. Steven Heugel [login to see]

Response by SMSgt Michael Gleason made Jul 22 at 2021 10:35 AM

SMSgt Michael Gleason — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 10:35:08 -0400

In the early 1980s we were camped in our tiny tent trailer at Mactaquac Provincial Park, New Brunswick's "Flagship" Park, on a very dark moonless night. I went to the lavatory to fetch a small pail of warm water, and was wending my way back to the camper by flashlight beam. Suddenly there appeared in the small circle of light what appeared to be a very large black animal with a prominent white stripe down its back. I think it was as startled as I! My wife, inside the camper, heard the pail hit the ground as I flung it and quickly exited the scene. Fortunately, the skunk, apparently, exited in the other direction, scentlessly!

Response by Sgt Sophia Cottrill made Jul 22 at 2021 11:28 AM

Sgt Sophia Cottrill — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 11:28:09 -0400

During a night hike the flashlight batteries died. So luckily I used my cell phone light to hike off the mountain. This was before I had a flashlight app. Don’t worry I wasn’t alone.

Response by SSgt Roger Murray made Jul 22 at 2021 12:20 PM

SSgt Roger Murray — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 12:20:06 -0400

Three Little Bears

My wife and I were enjoying fishing on the shore of Lake Mary near Mammoth, California. The elevations is nearly 9000 feet high in the Sierras. This was our first trip here and although the fishing was not that good the excitement will never be forgotten.

After nearly an hour at our first spot I noticed some movement to my right side, when I turned my body must have shook with surprise. Closing in on me were three bear cubs. I startled them so much they scurried up a tree only feet from me.

Once I gained my composure, I turned to see my wife frozen. Approaching from our rear was….that’s right Momma Bear. She did not seem aggressive but neither of us is a bear expert. We both at the same time dropped our rods and moved along the shore in the opposite direction straight for our Van. About 10 minutes passed and we saw the bears moving slowly away along the shore.

We went back to get our gear and found it was tossed everywhere, even our empty fish bucket. After this we rented a boat. Returning home and checking in with family we shared our experience and how lucky we were.

That should have been the end of this fishing story.

About a month later a letter arrived from Reno, Nevada. The letter read “I was at Lake Mary fishing and I found your fishing license and since it has a lot of time on it, I’m returning it.”

I wrote back thanking this stranger and told him you are not going to believe how I lost my license.

Response by PO1 Amber D B Morgan made Jul 22 at 2021 2:15 PM

PO1 Amber D B Morgan — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 14:15:17 -0400

When I was about 9 years old my parents bought a new 8-man tent like the one pictured (not the actual picture). My parents had a timeshare for camping in California and we were at one of our usual spots in the Coarsegold area. They spread the tent out and before they could insert the poles, my younger sister (7 years old) said “Now who’s gonna blow it up?” Her reference may have been in relation to the tv show Small Wonders. Needless to say we all laughed hysterically!

Response by Maj Matthew Estrem made Jul 22 at 2021 2:17 PM

Maj Matthew Estrem — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 14:17:06 -0400

1993. Spring Break my freshman year at USAFA. 1993.
I emphasize the year to remind you that THIS hike happened before GPS or cell phones in the time of the topo map and compass. My fellow Eagle Scout and friend Galen drove to Colorado to join me on a 4-day adventure into the Lost Creek Wilderness in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. The plan was to pack an additional 30 lbs each of rock climbing gear around the 25-mile trail and to stop regularly whenever we found an exciting rock face to scale and rappel from. I'd found the trail in a Backpacker magazine. In addition to the rock climbing suggestion, the article offered that, and I quote, "For the hiker sorely lacking in sound judgement and reason...", the trail could be left behind at its first intersection with the aptly named Lost Creek and the creek "followed" for just over a mile of rugged terrain where it re-intersected with the trail, cutting nearly 4 miles from the loop.
At age 19, Galen and I considered ourselves highly qualified to take this optional adventure on; sorely, if not completely, lacking all sound judgement and reason by our own personal admission. My Academy sponsor family's mother 'Nita dropped us at the trailhead on a hot Sunday morning and we promised to be waiting on Wednesday afternoon when we'd completed the loop and she returned.
Had it not been March in the Rockies, the off-trail adventure along the Lost Creek would have proven quite impossible. Thankfully, the creek was still frozen over and we could use it as a trail through the thickly overgrown brambles that Backpacker's writer failed to mention in the article. Then the creek simply disappeared into an expanse of enormous boulders. Picking our way up and over them was challenging, but fun... until I dropped our trail map and watched it slide sideways off the boulder I was standing on and down, probably 40-50 feet into a cavern.
We briefly considered leaving the map behind, but in the end we pulled out a harness, rope, and other gear we just happened to be packing for less critical use on Days 2 & 3. With me on belay, Galen rappelled down into the cavern and found both the Lost Creek and our map. It would be the only time the climbing gear would be used the entire hike. Fully equipped, we pressed on. That night, we camped in the BEAUTIFUL valley carved out by the Lost Creek in a location we wondered if any other human beings had ever set foot. Life felt very, very good.
The next morning, we broke camp and set out (and UP) to find the trail... which we did... and continue up in elevation along the trail... which we did... until we hit the early-spring snow line we'd not anticipated... and lost all ability to keep track of the trail.
Using compass and the topographical trail map Galen had recovered from the Lost Creek cavern, we were able to triangulate off of nearby peaks to determine which valley the trail led up underneath what had become about 18 inches of snow. Pressing forward up said valley was arduous work. The melting snow had soaked our boots, numbed our toes, and slowed our pace immeasurably. We made it about 2/3 of the way up to the high altitude mountain prairie where we'd PLANNED to camp when we admitted to each other that further hiking in the dark might well get us lost. We stamped out a flat area on the snowy mountainside, pitched our tent, ate a hastily cooked meal, shoved our wet socks into the bottom of our sleeping bags to dry overnight using body-heat, activated some disposable finger/toe-warming heat packets, and extremely fatigued, slept hard.
It was freezing when we woke up on Day 3 and tearing down camp in the shadow of the ridge above us couldn't go fast enough. Breakfast calories came from a granola bar washed down with some of our dwindling water supply, consumed after setting off up the mountain to get our blood flowing and cores warmed. Our morale improved upon reaching the prairie and verifying that we'd ascended the correct valley. I still have the photo Galen took of me squatting next to about 10 feet of exposed trail where the snow had melted down to wet, but bare earth. We ate lunch up there at nearly 9000 feet above sea level, feeling better but woefully behind schedule. Pressing on down the back side of the mountain, we tried to make up some time, but low on calories and water, trudging through the snow was simply not a fast process.
We resolved to make camp before sunset for our final night on the trail, partially because of lessons learned the night before, but mostly because we needed time to melt snow and boil the water to purify it. By the time we'd taken care of the hydration priority and eaten, it was after 10pm. We were also dealing with blisters on our waterlogged feet. Knowing that we had about double the distance to travel on the last day than we'd planned and having no way to contact my Nita, we knew we needed rest and a miracle or two on day four.
After breaking camp, we bounded down the mountain. Every step that morning was fatiguing. The melting snow had a layer of iced-over hard-pan on top, requiring us to lift our bodies up as if stepping up stairs. Most steps, the ice would then give way and our feet would sink back into the deep snow for a repeat. Galen was worse off than me and at least was able to follow in my footsteps most of the time. We were out of water and food, having burned and consumed considerably more than we'd planned, but we had no choice but burn whatever we had left in our tanks to get off the mountain. By the time we got below the snow line, I felt like I was going to pass out, but we had another two and a half miles to the parking lot and less than an hour until Nita would be there to pick us up.
My mouth felt like chalk. We forced ourselves forward. Then, a miracle.
Across a small footbridge was a bench, and on that bench was a 1-gallon plastic jug full of water. Not a soul was in sight. I gave a half-hearted "Hello-ooo?" and got no response.
Galen and I consumed that entire jug of water in less than three minutes. Completely re-energized, we toted the empty plastic jug out of the woods and emerged into the parking lot 10 minutes past our planned meet-up time... and 15 minutes before Nita pulled in to the lot, apologizing for running late. For all she knew, we'd been waiting there for hours as planned.
Galen and I sat in the car in silence on the way down the mountain. To this day, I cherish the memory of the challenges we faced and how we overcame them. Every 35mm photo we had developed later that week evokes a feeling or emotion from that hike to this day. Never before had we had to use so many of the survival skills in our proverbial toolboxes, and never since have I made a memory as unique as we made in the Lost Creek Wilderness.

Response by LCDR James Roberts made Jul 22 at 2021 3:28 PM

LCDR James Roberts — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 15:28:50 -0400

One of Disneyland’s oldest attractions is called Storybook Land. It’s a boat ride through a landscape of famous fairy tale settings. The ride starts with your boat entering the mouth of a gigantic whale named Monstro (from the Pinocchio story), which used to scare the crap out of me when I was little. The fact that you could plainly see the same boats coming out the other end of Monstro didn’t convince me that the ride wasn’t certain death. But once I learned that I wasn’t on the menu, it became one of my favorite rides. I could feel the transformation as we floated inside the whale and ended up in a magical world. I bring up Storybook Land because after graduation from the academy, my brother invited me on a hiking trip to Yosemite National Park. The southern entrance to the park has a long tunnel that dumps you out into one of the most spectacular views on earth: Yosemite Valley. From the lookout area, you can’t see any evidence of humanity; it’s truly a “land before time” scene with waterfalls and sheer granite cliffs. The feeling I had coming through that tunnel the first time was like coming out the tail end of Monstro. I had been transported to another world.
It was Memorial Day weekend – beautiful weather, the temperature crisp but refreshing. We spent the first day in a valley campground with Yosemite Falls as our visual backdrop, and we got into our sleeping bags that night with the sound of the falls as sleep-inducing white noise. We planned to hike to the top of Half Dome, the icon of Yosemite. You can’t escape Half Dome, not that you’d want to. It dominates the valley and its image is on everything from bandanas to bear repellent. In 1980, camping on Half Dome was still allowed. So the next morning, we lightened our backpacks and headed into the backcountry, intent on spending a night on top of the world’s most famous granite rock.
The first part of the hike is called the Mist Trail. And the name doesn’t disappoint. It takes you about as close as you’d ever want to get to a waterfall (actually, two waterfalls: Vernal and Nevada). Part of the trail is cut right out of the sheer granite wall that makes up most of the valley’s geology. The steps cling to the edge, without any railing until you reach the top. When it’s wet, and it is always wet, the climb can be treacherous. Because the beginning of the hike is so accessible, sometimes you run into visitors with questionable equipment. I’ve seen people with heels or flip-flops for footwear. Some tourists wear plastic trash bags as raingear, an inelegant but practical solution, unless you don’t cut out holes for your arms. These clueless (but apparently well-insured) travelers would hike up the slick granite steps, a raging river hundreds of feet below, all with their arms securely pinned to their sides. It was a concussion and/or spectacular death waiting to happen. It’s easy to make fun of inexperienced hikers now, after twenty or so visits to Yosemite. But on my first trip, I also had a few things to learn about wilderness preparation. My backpack was a collection of borrowed “three-season” gear (a euphemistic term meaning: if it gets cold you are screwed). But I was ignorantly blissful about the upcoming night.
As we rounded a curve in the trail, I got my first glimpse of the backside of Half Dome. It was strange observing such a well-known sight from a rarely seen angle, like approaching Mount Rushmore from behind. In another 15 minutes, the climbing cables that help you along the 45-degree ascent came into view. At the base of the cables was a curious pile of gloves from previous climbing seasons. Were they left behind by hikers that had lost their nerve and turned around? A memorial to climbers that had plunged to their death? But armed with my brother’s advice, “It helps if you don’t look back,” I started up the cables. A 45-degree angle doesn’t sound that steep until you’re too far up to turn around. “Halfway to vertical” seemed a more accurate description of the slope when you’re actually on it. I started reviewing my estate planning. But once on top, the view is spectacular enough to make you forget that you still have to go back down. As I enjoyed the unobstructed 360-degree view of the park, I had a feeling that something was missing. Then I realized that almost every picture of Yosemite included the granite rock we were on. We were standing at the one place in the valley where you could not see Half Dome.
We spent the afternoon taking spectacular photos of Yosemite (and of us dangling our feet over the edge of the 3,000-foot dropoff). As the sun set over the Sierra Nevada mountain range, it seemed like the perfect ending to an awesome day. But then a cloud enveloped our campsite in a drizzly fog, soaking us and all our gear. At just under 9,000 feet, the top of Half Dome is not the place to discover that you’re under-equipped, and I watched in alarm as the temperature dropped to an unseasonal 20 degrees. We were above the tree line and couldn’t start a fire. All I had to keep warm were the clothes I had on and my sleeping bag – my sleeping bag with cowboy-and-indian themed lining. I checked the label and cursed my stupidity. The 50-degree temperature rating did not inspire confidence. That night I alternated between wearing my jacket and placing it at the foot of my sleeping bag. As I lay shivering, I considered how many toes I would lose to frostbite. But like most worries in the middle of the night, the worst didn’t come true. As morning approached, I was more uncomfortable than hypothermic. I can’t say I was ever happier to see a sunrise, though. Spending the night envisioning your early death is thirsty work, and as I reached for our three-gallon plastic water jug, I found it frozen solid.
The rest of the hike was fantastic, and the trip started an ongoing love affair with Yosemite. It became my go-to daydreaming location. During insipid work meetings or boring church homilies, I will mentally wander off to hike along the John Muir Trail. After we got home, I made it a point to upgrade all my camping gear. I became a frequent shopper at REI (a high-end backpacking store), retiring my old sleeping bag to live out the rest of its life at slumber parties.
In subsequent Yosemite trips, I found myself fascinated with the people who had decided to live and work in the park. There was one character working at Curry Village, a campground consisting of modest cabins and permanent canvas tents, who made his living driving a modified golf cart, taking luggage back and forth from cabins to cars. In my vacation-altered state of mind it seemed like the greatest job in the world. I actually had a discussion with him on the ride back to our car. It turns out he was a corporate dropout – decided to sell everything and live the simple life in a national park. He was my antihero. I also envied the tram drivers that narrated the tour of the Mariposa Grove of giant redwoods. They had an adlibbed back and forth with the tourists that reminded me of the Jungle Cruise guides at Disneyland. So my post-retirement goal became golf-cart luggage carrier or giant redwoods tram driver. “Shoot for the stars” is my motto.
Maybe Yosemite appealed to me because it was the antithesis of my navy life – slow paced and unchanging. I could depend on its timelessness and simplicity to take me to a less anxious state of mind. In Yosemite, I am my true self. The gap between who I am and who I want to be shrinks enough that I don’t think about it. Today, when I’m asked to imagine a quiet place, I think of sitting in a camping chair, enjoying the serenity of the Merced River.

Response by Lt Col Private RallyPoint Member made Jul 22 at 2021 3:34 PM

Lt Col Private RallyPoint Member — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 15:34:33 -0400

It was September of 2017 and I packed up my two little monkeys (then ages 2 and 4) and headed out to Zion National Park; one of the most breathtaking places in the world! The trip was meant to distract all of us while the father of my kiddos moved out of the house, as we were in the middle of divorcing. What I expected to be a difficult and emotional weekend, ended up being the most joyful camping experience! Something about getting out into nature helped us all forget what was happening back home. This was their first time sleeping in a tent, first time roasting hotdogs over a fire, their first time hiking along the mighty Colorado river, and the moment they fell in love with the outdoors. By the end of the weekend, I felt like everything was going to be alright... better than alright actually... and I smile every single time I look at these pictures! (More pictures in the comments)

Response by LCDR Denise McDonald made Jul 22 at 2021 6:08 PM

LCDR Denise McDonald — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 18:08:22 -0400

When my husband and I were stationed at Misawa AB, Japan we would frequently go camping in the Japanese country side. One location we especially liked was more off the beaten track than others. Besides the beautiful country side and wonderful hiking trails, it had a hot spring nearby with a small, natural “hot tub”. My husband, who was my boyfriend at the time, would pack our favorite drinks, portable music, and towels for an evening soak in the hot springs. It was always so private and romantic. We never saw anyone else while we were there. Much to our dismay, the last time we went to this spot, two Japanese men joined us. Since my husband and I always got into the hot springs au naturel, it was a rather uncomfortable situation. After waiting for them to depart for quite a while, we were both very pruned. As my now husband whispered to me, they knew I was naked and weren’t going to leave without me getting out first. I was horrified since I was not an exhibitionist. Fortunately for me, my husband is a total gentlemen and got out of the natural pool first then held up a towel for me to minimize my exposure. Needless to say, our rule now is to always pack bathing suits when we go camping!

Response by SPC Carlos Hernandez made Jul 22 at 2021 10:01 PM

SPC Carlos Hernandez — Thu, 22 Jul 2021 22:01:33 -0400

My best fishing trip would have to be when I went out with my stepfather and grandfather. We decided to fish in the Corpus Christi Bay in Corpus Christi, TX. I do not know the gear used but we used a live shrimp for bait. It was rememberable for a number of reasons.
As the went on we could see large ripples in the water. It was sharks swimming near us. Though they never get closer to us. We just continue fishing.
After 6 hours of fishing in the middle bay was something I have never did and still have not done since. I have also caught about 5 fish that trip with the largest on being a 27 inch sea bass.
That whole week my stepfather introduced me to a new hobby that no one cared to or I had to do alone.
That whole week I fished all week and caught some drum and other small fish with my children but that moment I discovered the joy of fishing.
Since that trip I have bought my own gear and created a healthy obsession. I have learned more techniques and more about fish in general. It has been a journey that will not end and never will.

Response by A1C Private RallyPoint Member made Jul 23 at 2021 8:13 AM

A1C Private RallyPoint Member — Fri, 23 Jul 2021 08:13:57 -0400

I've been going to the same spot for 40 years. The only thing that has changed is the size of the trees and the path of the creek.

Response by CPO Lora Kirk made Jul 23 at 2021 3:17 PM

CPO Lora Kirk — Fri, 23 Jul 2021 15:17:55 -0400

I've never really been hunting but I use to love when we would drive to my grandmother and grandfather's home in Arkansas so my father could go hunting. We enjoyed playing with the furs after my mother and grandmother skinned the rabbits. I couldn't imagine doing that now, but it's a great childhood memory.

Response by PO1 Charles Shafer made Jul 23 at 2021 4:16 PM

PO1 Charles Shafer — Fri, 23 Jul 2021 16:16:03 -0400

Went hunting for a Thanksgiving turkey a few years back and seen a flock moving my way. I spotted a good size Tom. I waited till I had a good shot and pulled the trigger. Just as was pulling the trigger two younger Toms jumped at each other, we had turkey for Thanksgiving and New Years and for my birthday in Feb. Besides meeting my wife in high school library, that was 0ne of those days I will never forget!

Response by SGT James Korgel made Jul 23 at 2021 5:48 PM

SGT James Korgel — Fri, 23 Jul 2021 17:48:37 -0400

Was hunting with my dad one of his last years and I shot a nice size buck. It took off running and I shot again. You could hear the thump of the .243 round hit. He kept running. I shot again. Another thump. Still running. By this time (because of you need more than three shots you shouldn’t be hunting in my opinion) I’m out of rounds. So I’m hoofing it across the field at an angle to cut the buck off before he gets to the cornfield and is out of sight. The weird thing is, I’m actually GAINING on him. So I get ahead of him and cut him off, so he stops and looks at me. He would start to move and I would move and he’d stop. This went on about four or five times. So then I started walking towards him and he just stared at me. His legs were weak because he had lost a lot of blood, but he still tried to stare me down. I walked up to him and actually grabbed his antlers and he was so weak he couldn’t put up much of a fight. I got my knife out and finished him off as quick as I could so he wouldn’t suffer anymore and then I got my tag out and put it on. My dad pulled out into the field to help me load him into the truck and this Suburban pulls up. This guy gets out just rolling with laughter. He says “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen a Mexican standoff with a deer! I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes!” He asked me why I didn’t shoot again and I told him I was out of ammo. He said he wondered why I was chasing this deer on foot when I was carrying my rifle. Then he says “By the way, since I’m here, I’m the game warden for Bottineau county so let me go ahead and check your license and tag.” I was completely legal (always am) and he said “Have a great day and nice shooting. It’s amazing that he ran that far with all three holes being what should have been lethal shots. Way to chase him down.” I thanked him and we loaded him into the truck and drove home with a very nice buck and a great story to tell. :)

Response by SN Amanda Blevins made Jul 23 at 2021 8:37 PM

SN Amanda Blevins — Fri, 23 Jul 2021 20:37:15 -0400

My best camping story happened just 2 years ago. Me and my mother, sisters, nieces, and granddaughter camped out in my moms yard. We taught the kids how to pitch a tent and how to build a proper camp fire. We stayed up late roasting marshmallows and telling scary stories by the fire. The funniest part was when my granddaughter who was 5 at the time had to go pee. She wanted to go in the house but that was off limits because we are camping. I showed her how she had to go to the bathroom outside and she refused to do it for about 5 minutes but then she looked at me and said, you people are crazy but I have to pee so bad, so I guess I will do it. When her mom asked how she liked camping, she said she loved all of it except for having to pee like the animals in the woods.

Response by PO3 Lily Robertson made Jul 24 at 2021 1:08 AM

PO3 Lily Robertson — Sat, 24 Jul 2021 01:08:01 -0400

Our family has always enjoyed camping. This was a story my mother told me shortly before she passed, and she never told my pop. One year they went out hunting, my pop, my mom, his parents, and his brother. That year, gramma decided to sleep in when they went out early and mom was up so grampa asked mom to go with him. She was surprised, but happily went with him. My pop and uncle went in one direction, and they took another. Grampa and mom went up this incline and eventually found a lovely spot overlooking a beautiful waterfall that fell into a secluded pond. There were several deer drinking from the pond. He shushed her and they sat, just watching the deer. She asked him why he wasn't taking a shot. He told her, "This is where i come for a little peace, just like those deer. I can feed my family without hurting any of them, and they aren't hurting us. My boys will tromp all over hell and gone and find nothing because neither one of them will shut up for five minutes. I just wanted you to see one of my favorite places." She loved him even more for that.

Response by Private RallyPoint Member made Jul 24 at 2021 4:47 AM

Private RallyPoint Member — Sat, 24 Jul 2021 04:47:45 -0400

In 1995 , My husband my 9 year old son and my 2 year old grandson were up north in Gaylord Michigan; for the day hiking through he woods looking for morel mushrooms. My husband and my son went in one direction and I was holding my grandsons hand walking in another direction looking on the ground as we walked. The next thing I knew the trees had changed and I was no longer familiar with my surroundings. My grandson kept asking me Nana are we lost. We had been walking for at least 45 minutes to hour. I had to carry my grandson at this point. I listen for any noise and could hear vehicles passing every once in a while. SO I headed towards that direction. I eventually came to a gravel road. I stopped a van that was coming down the road and asked them if they had seen a maroon Jimmy The van was filled with older gentlemen who also were mushroom hunting. They told me maybe 2 miles back in the direction they had come from. SO I started walking down the road in that direction. A little while later the van came back and said your going the wrong direction. We just saw you vehicle and if you get in we will take you to it, your about 5 miles from it. With all the walking through the woods I had hiked off a long way from it. So they seemed very nice and I got in the van with my grandson, I was actually terrified. But driving down the winding gravel road we finally came up on our vehicle and my husband and son were standing there not know where we were, the men pulled up and howled out the window, Did you lose a couple people. My husband and son were very relieved to see us. I had been lost for almost 2 hours. But I discovered I have absolutely no sense of direction in the woods. To this day when we look for mushrooms I will not go any further than the eye sight of my car.

Response by Lt Col Wayne Hentschel made Jul 24 at 2021 10:53 AM

Lt Col Wayne Hentschel — Sat, 24 Jul 2021 10:53:08 -0400

We went to Finger Lakes BMW Motorcycle rally and camped in the park with about 300 other bikers. This is a 3-day rally over Labor Day weekend. We had a great time touring the roads of central New York, including stopping at several wineries. On the last night, Sunday night, we opened a few bottles that we bought on our trip around Seneca Lake and turned in late. Just as I was heading to my tent, there was lightning and a loud thunder clap. I didn't care at that point, and hit the sleeping bag. I slept well that night with the rain hitting my tent. Next morning, the rain was still pouring down. We waited as long as we could (About a 4-5 hour trip home) before we started packing up. Well, something that we laugh about now, but at the time we were cursing. We packed up our tents, sleeping bags ground cloths, and motorcycle equipment on the bikes in the pouring rain and took off. It rained almost all the way home to SE Pennsylvania. I was soaked and when I took the stuff off of my bike, gallons of water came off. Although it was just guys at the rally, my wife was NOT a "happy camper".

Response by 1LT Chad Thompson made Jul 24 at 2021 1:47 PM

1LT Chad Thompson — Sat, 24 Jul 2021 13:47:28 -0400

It was Monday, early in November, 2015. The prolonged warm weather allowed me more time than usually to get everything battened down for the upcoming winter. In fact, I just helped the septic guy pump our tanks when I settled in for what was to be just another day in the office. It was shortly after 10am when all heck broke loose.
Not more than 10 minutes into my work, I was startled by what literally sounded like a bulldozer tearing up mother earth in the heavy woods near our house. I’m not exaggerating! It was as loud and intimating as anything I’ve ever heard in the outdoors. It had my FULL attention.
I grabbed the camera, and as a backup the 7mm mag, and cautiously walked to the wood line to see what the heck was going on. I remember briefly thinking a wolf or bear must’ve taken down a beef cow.
As stepped a few paces into the woods, out of the river bottom came a forkhorn buck. He looked like death warmed over. He was to the point of hyperventilating and could barely hold up his head. And, while he was curious about me, he certainly kept a watchful eye on whatever was lingering deeper into the woods. Shortly after, he sauntered off in that direction.
Realizing I was safe, I returned to the house where I swapped the rifle for the crossbow. In the excitement, I set down the camera and didn’t realize I’d forgotten it until I was about 100 yards into the thick woods. I wasn’t going back to get it.
What happened next was right out of the cool category. I unintentionally walked into a sparring match between a fork horn buck and a massive 10 pointer. Although the smaller racked deer had an impressive body, he paled in comparison to his jousting partner. Still, both animals had necks so swollen they looked like they could be lineman for the Green Bay Packers. Whether or not they knew I was there remains a mystery, although they soon separated as I got to within ear shot of their contest. The forker went to my left and the 10 point crossed the river bottom and silhouetted himself on the far side.
In the past, I had seen young bucks in playful exchanges, but nothing that looked or sounded as serious as this. My heart was racing, but I knew I had experience, the wind and a whole lot of time on my side. I hunkered in tight next to a fallen tree and watched and listened.
The woods were eerily quiet. No birds singing, no red squirrels chirping and no bugs annoying me. As I gained control of my breathing, I remember closing my eyes and purposefully soaking in everything that just happened. But as I did that, I heard the unmistakable grunt of a buck needing some attention. I approximated his location and as I stood up to get closer and at the same time, the 10point bolted from a hide. Apparently he’d heard the forker too and was on his way to get another piece of the action.
Thinking the gig might be up, I opted to grab another stump and cob a squat. It seemed like eternity until I heard some leaves rustle. Soon I heard the distinctive crunch crunch for hooves crushing leaves that lay on the forest floor. It was easy to tell a deer was closing on my location. Not long after, the forkhorn passed within 15 feet of me, his full attention on the far side of the river bank. As fast as he’d come by me, he crossed the river and he too was on the far side.
As I strained to keep eyes on the forkhorn, off to my left I caught a glimpse of a deer jumping over a dead fall. It was the 10 pointer, and he was hot on the trail of the forker who obviously wasn’t welcome in the area. All I could do is sit there and watch as the massive buck used the dense cover to weave in and out of possible shooting lanes. It was like he knew where not to step. He was cunning, yet very bold. And just like that, the two bucks disappeared.
As I returned to the house, I am filled with excitement and rejuvenation to the point Im unable to work. I can’t believe what just happened; my mind in a perpetual loop, strategizing on how I want to kill that big buck. Historically, I’m not an archery hunter, but this incident has left me questioning that train of thought.
Now I have a choice. Dust off my bow and get back in the game, knowing full well that buck will likely be back. Or do I risk losing the opportunity to harvest my biggest buck ever, pinning my hopes to the upcoming Wisconsin gun opener, still a solid 2 weeks away?
Writing is on the wall folks. I’ve frantically searched the internet looking for information on buck sparring. Specifically if they’ll fight in the same locations time and time again. I also have found myself with renewed interest in hunting deer in Wisconsin, an opportunity I’ve overlooked for far too long.
Until next time!

Response by TSgt William Buckley made Jul 25 at 2021 3:28 PM

TSgt William Buckley — Sun, 25 Jul 2021 15:28:04 -0400

Growing up in Montana, I have a couple of good stories. I think one of my favorites is the one where my father signed me up for a city parks backpacking trip. we backpacked with 2 guides and about 10 teenagers to Bass Lake in the Bob Marshall Wilderness. Along the way a bear started to follow us. We were told we could bring any groceries to cook the first night. About 4 miles up, we crossed the creek, dropped our backpacks for a break. Immediately the bear swooped in and grabbed one of the backpacks, taking off with it. Once we retrieved it, it was discovered he just wanted the steaks that person had brought for dinner. We continued on to Bass Lake, which ironically was stocked with Rainbow Trout and to cold for bas. .
We camped on the far side of the lake. To be safe we put all of our food in a tarp and hoisted it up out of reach, or so we thought. It turned out to be a long sleepless night with a bear roaming around our camp. At some point, the bear made its way up the tree and pulled the food down. The bear went through and ate what it wanted. My father, being the outdoorsman, had me pack only backpacking meals. They are light and taste awful, to me and the bear. Putting all of our food together, I had the lions share left and everyone got to enjoy freeze dried food the next day. The rangers showed up managed to deal with the bear leaving us in peace, but cutting our trip short.

Response by Sharon Garcia made Jul 25 at 2021 6:34 PM

Sharon Garcia — Sun, 25 Jul 2021 18:34:00 -0400

As a kid, spent our weekends fishing on the Texas Gulf Coast. Dad would get off work on Fridays, sleep a few hours and then our family would head out for the weekend. Often our neighbor who was widowed would join us, along with his son and wife. Although we had our favorite spots to fish, our neighbor would often "recommend" a new place he heard about for us to try. On one particular outing, we decided we would try one of his recommendations. So our family along with him and his son and daughter-in-law set out in the middle of the night for a weekend of fishing. It took us a while to find this place, as the road to it was off the beaten path and therefore unlit. We got there, set up our campsite and decided to start fixing dinner. It didn't take long to realize the large number of flies that seemed to be surrounding us. Our neighbor couldn't be bothered and just shrugged it off, but the longer we sat there the worse the flies kept coming. It eventually got so bad, we hurried cooking our dinner over the fire, served it up and retreated to our respective vehicles to eat it. They were so bad we just called it a night. The next morning as the sun came up we began to come out of our vehicles. It was then that we discovered the source of all those flies. Seems our neighbors' "recommended" fishing spot was right next to a waste dump! The mound of trash was enormous and the flies were worse than we could have imagined. I guess the fishing there was good, because no one stayed long enough to fish there. I know we sure didn't!

Response by CPT Joan Grey made Jul 28 at 2021 7:30 PM

CPT Joan Grey — Wed, 28 Jul 2021 19:30:27 -0400

My son was a boy scout during one of our assignments in Germany. On some scouting adventures, families were included. During a trip to France, the troop had gotten permission to camp in the maintenance section of the Normandy American Cemetery. One night, a gusty storm brought lots of rain (typical scout trip) and a large tree limb almost fell on top of one of scouts' tents (not so typical). Some highlights of that weekend included scout participation in a wreath-laying ceremony commemorating D-Day, touring the cemetery, hiking to Pointe du Hoc and seeing the Ranger Monument, and visiting Sainte-Mère-Église where a paratrooper's parachute had caught on the church's steeple during the World War II invasion.

Response by SGT Erick Holmes made Jul 28 at 2021 10:43 PM

SGT Erick Holmes — Wed, 28 Jul 2021 22:43:50 -0400

You know that your from the city when a wild rabbit scares the bajesus out of you when your camping in a semi wood area. Thats how you know you made out of the city LOL!!!!

Response by Col Michelle Pryor made Jul 29 at 2021 12:29 AM

Col Michelle Pryor — Thu, 29 Jul 2021 00:29:23 -0400

It was a warm, sunny day in Colorado Springs when my husband and I decided to hike up Stanley Canyon in CO and camp overnight. The temperatures were in the 80s as we began our trek up the mountain. After hiking for a couple of hours, we reached our lakeside camping destination and began setting up our tent and preparing a fire to make some dinner. We enjoyed a wonderful sunset and some delicious s'mores around the fire as the temperature began to drop. At the time, only my husband owned a sleeping bag so we had packed an additional blanket for me to use in lieu of a sleeping bag. It was 85 degrees out when we hiked up the mountain in our shorts and t-shirts so that plan should have worked just fine...right?

I couldn't have been more wrong! After retiring for the evening, the air outside continued to cool. I tend to get cold quite easily to begin with and the plummeting temperatures didn't help. After finally falling asleep, we awoke in the middle of the night realizing we were both absolutely freezing and totally shivering. We peered outside of the tent and discovered that our campsite was covered with several inches of snow. Thank goodness we had both previously been to survival school and we put the lessons we learned to good use. Although it was a very miserable night overall, we managed to survive. We packed up our camp and hiked back down the mountain as soon as the sun came up.

We learned a lot from that frigid camping experience and since then have hiked and camped all over the world. In fact, I now blog about our hiking and camping adventures to help pass tips on to other families who enjoy the outdoors. When we embark on our current adventures, we are much better prepared. We recently conquered below freezing nighttime temperatures (once again in CO) in our camper van while losing heating capability during the night. This time, my husband, our son, and I all had sleeping bags rated well below freezing making the experience much more pleasant. All in all, though, I have also learned that while I enjoy watching the TV series Alone which features individuals who compete to survive the longest in the arctic, I will most likely not be applying for the show in the near future due to my aversion to cold weather camping!

Response by AN John Pepper made Jul 29 at 2021 9:25 AM

AN John Pepper — Thu, 29 Jul 2021 09:25:32 -0400

When I was in the Navy, I was ship's company on USS Forrestal in Mayport FL. I had decided to go fishing/camping at a spot just south of Jacksonville. I arrived and setup my camp/fishing area on the bank of a swampy river area just before dark. I had a small lantern for light, which barely illuminated the area right around me. A few hours after dark I was kind of startled when all the noise around me went totally silent, like someone had flipped the power switch "off" on a radio. If you have ever been in a FL swamp in the Spring you know it is very loud. Between the bugs, frogs, and other critters it is not a quiet place. There was no breeze this night, and no moon. I held my lantern up but could not see past a few meters. Then, there was a very pungent, almost nauseating odor. After a minute or so, the odor went away and someone flipped the switch back on and all the noise came back again. This un-nerved me enough to pack my stuff and leave in a hurry. A few years later, I was reading the BFRO website (Bigfoot Research Organization) and found that there had been a sighting just a few miles from where I was fishing. It was then I realized I almost saw a bigfoot. I joke about this now, but at the time it was very strange. The worst part about the situation...
I didn't even get a grainy photo of him.
ATAN John Pepper US Navy 83 - 87

Response by CMSgt E P made Jul 29 at 2021 9:39 AM

CMSgt E P — Thu, 29 Jul 2021 09:39:44 -0400

In July 2015, I was leaving Colorado for Delaware and wanted to get the kids on their first 14'er hike. If you want to do, not one, but four in one day you go to Kite Lake trailhead.
We arrived at first light and began our trek. My 17, 14, and 7 year old tired, but looking forward to the adventure. From the trailhead you can see all the peaks and since this is Colorado there was still snow on parts of the trail and on the peak of Mt. Democrat. After 40 minutes into our climb we approached the first snow pack, of course it is on a steep slope of the valley, and as you look down you are reminded that if you slip you are on a 400m slide ride atop snow, ice and mud pack. The 100m section takes us 25 minutes to cross, the first of our three challenges. We continue along the trail to Democrat and can see other hikers ascending the snow covered peak. Halfway up I step into the snow and it is up to my calf and my 7 year old daughter's mid-thigh, needless to say, that along with steep snow covered slopes on either side of us we turn back down and give Mt. Cameron a shot...our second challenge faced. On our way up along Cameron's ridge line my son freezes. He becomes overwhelmed with a his fear of heights; the view from this part of the trail gives you the impression that either side of you is a shear drop-off. After 15 minutes of talking and letting me lead him to the side; I show him that there isn't a shear drop-off, he would hit at least four ledges before the shear drop-off...our third challenge.
We make it to the peak of Cameron, but due to our challenges and the pace of my 7 year old it takes us to 2 p.m. and in the summer in Colorado that's when the storms start to roll in. From Cameron's peak we see the clouds coming our way. With a new found motivation, we find our way back down to the Kite Lake trailhead, a little wet, but not electrocuted.
Great memory and laughable now, but in the moment...not so much.

Response by CDR John Cicio made Jul 29 at 2021 9:44 AM

CDR John Cicio — Thu, 29 Jul 2021 09:44:50 -0400

For many years I had hoped to hike the Appalachian Trail, however, life had a different plan. I was injured while on active duty and received a VA disability which prevented me from hiking. After my retirement, I decided I would SWIM the equivalent mileage of the Appalachian Trail. It took a few years to achieve, but I received a certification from the Appalachian Trail Authority confirming that I finished the Trail!

Response by TSgt Private RallyPoint Member made Jul 29 at 2021 10:43 AM

TSgt Private RallyPoint Member — Thu, 29 Jul 2021 10:43:22 -0400

Went on a fishing trip with my girlfriend and her brother. Literally had zero luck on catching anything... until her brother caught a cluster of clams! Yup, after that we packed up the camp site and headed home.

Still had a wonderful time spending quality time together though.

Response by CWO3 John Lewandowski made Jul 29 at 2021 11:19 AM

CWO3 John Lewandowski — Thu, 29 Jul 2021 11:19:12 -0400

The wife and I went on a canoe and we just started off. She captured one photo and then she asked for me to hand her a water bottle, but I could not reach. I tossed the water bottle towards the front of the canoe. It landed directly under her seat. She quickly looked left and quickly turned right trying to locate it. That was enough to roll the canoe!!! We laughed it off. Everything was in the water and we managed to swim to shore. My phone survived, but she needed a new one! We're both Marines!
Semper Fi from Arizona!
John and Donna Lewandowski

Response by SGT Jeffrey Norrod made Jul 29 at 2021 12:16 PM

SGT Jeffrey Norrod — Thu, 29 Jul 2021 12:16:34 -0400

When I was a kid I lived in military housing in San Diego, CA. I had three friends that I was very close with(David, James, Mickey and me Jeffrey) . In our area we were called the "Master Chief brats" cause all of our dads were Master Chiefs in the Navy. even the girls we dated were fathers of the rank Master Chief. As we grew and started our lives and entered military service and families', we lost track until recently.

This year, Jun 2021 we decided we all are turning 50 and we meet up for our camping trip. 4 days of catching up to do. I was very nervous to see all of my friends and how life has treated them. Now understand, I was the trouble maker, I was the one who would end in jail or just have all life fall apart for me. But I ended not only serving honorably in the Army, I retired and completed my degree and now help with the VA's PTSD program.

The day finally came and it was like we were kids all over again. We shared our lives and the up and downs. We remembered old girlfriends and our first cars when we got so happy to get a drivers licenses. We remembered those we lost both as kids and while serving in the military. And discussed new friends and family and shared our children's pictures and our dreams once again. By far reconnecting with my buddies is the best thing I have ever done and I wish everyone has that same experience. Here is to my lifelong friends..(David/Navy, James/Army, Jeffrey/Army, and Mickey/Navy brat.) We are planning our next trip soon.

Response by MSgt Mark Jennette made Jul 29 at 2021 1:34 PM

MSgt Mark Jennette — Thu, 29 Jul 2021 13:34:58 -0400

I was stationed at Canadian Forces Base (CFB), North Bay, Ontario, Canada from 1975 - 1979 as part of a small American NORAD detachment. CFB North Bay was co-located with the airport, like Peterson AFB in Colorado Springs, Colorado. The Canadians have an underground facility there just like Cheyenne Mountain, CO. The Canadians are wonderful people, and my wife and I made friends quickly.
I was young, 25 years of age when we arrived there, and one of the first things we did was find a church home. It turned out most of our closest friends were from church. A number of the men at church was like me and they loved to hunt and fish so that was right up my alley. I'm going to tell two funny things that happened while I was fishing or hunting.
Cliff, a member at church, who was born in England, was one of my fishing buddies, and he had bought a really nice-looking heavy mahogany boat for a very good price, or so he thought, and he was so proud of that boat. His face beamed with joy when he showed it to me. He just knew he had made a steal in getting it.
Anyway, immediately after he bought it, he said Mark let's go fishing Saturday, so I said okay, let's go! We went to one of the many lakes there close by; Spring Lake I believe. The lake is out in the boonies, but there one only had to travel to the edge of the city limits to be in them. Anyway, we launched the boat onto the lake and fished all morning, without any luck. Now getting the boat onto the water was easy but getting the boat out of the water proved to be a different matter.
The landing was pretty steep, and just dirt. Well, I was totally inexperienced with boats, and Cliff wasn't much better, so when we started trailering the boat, Cliff just barely got the bow to the edge of the trailer. The incline at the landing was too steep to drive the boat part way onto the trailer, so Cliff connects the clasp on the winch rope to the ring, or whatever it's called, on the bow and he goes to winding it in.
Cliff got the boat maybe halfway onto the trailer, and I guess his pride-and-joy wasn't as sturdy as he thought, or as good a bargain, because all of a sudden about a two-foot chunk of the bow broke off and snatched completely away from the boat. Luckily it was trailered enough that it didn't slide right back into the water.
Now Cliff was frantic and in shock, and I'm thinking dubiously, while laughing my head off, "what in the world are we going to do"? The incline was way too steep even for a dozen men to push that heavy wooden boat onto the trailer, and the lake was really deep, pretty much right up to the edge of the landing. It was actually a drop off into 20' or 30' of beautifully clear water with hardly anywhere to stand at the rear of the boat.
As I said, "I was totally ignorant about boating", but Cliff chose the place. It's a good thing that the Lord looks after the foolish because we could have lost everything that day. It was a place meant to put a canoe or something else small in the water by hand. Had the vehicle brakes failed we could easily have lost vehicle, boat, and trailer. There's no way the two of us alone could get the boat onto the trailer.
Cliff was really sick about what happened to his baby and honestly, I felt sorry for him, but I couldn't help but bust out laughing. It was one of those situations where things are serious, but you can't help but laugh. It didn't help when I suggested, Cliff, "let's just push it back off the trailer and deep six it." Of course, he wasn't for that, and me either really, because the lakes, and streams up there are pristine.
Anyway, we just left both trailer and boat there and came on home, because there's nothing else, we could do by ourselves. Somehow later though he did retrieve the boat several days later but was never able to repair it enough to use again.
The other thing that happened was when Jerry, our minister, and I decided that we would take a moose hunting trip. We planned on sleeping in the back of my 1974 blazer. I didn't have a back seat and there wasn't any carpet, there was just bare painted metal.
I borrowed two blowup air mattresses, really swimming pool floats, from Cliff in my previous story. Well, Cliff told me Mark, "one of these mattresses had a hole in it but I think I've got it patched."
Long story short, I gave Jerry the patched air mattress, maybe the devil made me do it! Anyway, we set out just after Sunday evening services for where we would camp and hunt the next day.
We settled in and went to sleep early so we could get to hunting early the next morning. Well, about two or three in the morning, Jerry woke me up stirring around, so I asked him, Jerry what's going on? He exclaimed, Mark I'm trying to get more clothes on because this air mattress has gone down and I'm freezing. I'm laying on this bare metal!
Okay, it was cool that night, about 25 below zero. I know, I should have done the right thing and chose to use the patched air mattress which I didn't say anything about, Yeah! Right! I wasn't taking any chances; My daddy didn't raise a fool!
I told Jerry later what had happened, and he just laughed about it.

Response by PO2 Joan MacNeill made Jul 29 at 2021 8:51 PM

PO2 Joan MacNeill — Thu, 29 Jul 2021 20:51:20 -0400

There have been so many trips of various durations; how can I chose? One of my more memorable hikes was in the Sierra Nevadas. My friend dropped me off near the head of Little Lakes Valley on the eastern side of the range. I followed the trail until it began to veer south, then left it to cross a ridge, where I camped on a nice sandy ledge. The next day I proceded up Mount Abbott, an easy 13,700 foot peak. Descending the west side brought me into the headwaters of the South Fork San Juaqin River. I passed the aptly-named Lake Italy, with several seagulls present (oddly, 95% of California's gulls nest at Mono Lake, many mies northeast). After a pleasant night on a grassy ledge, complete with curious mouse, a delightful trek through high lakes, awesome High Sierras peaks (one was Seven Gables, impressive, with an enchanting name), pure clean rock and sky, ensued. I briefly saw footprints of hiker and dog. I met two other people on the trip, who were just as glad as I to part company and return to soliutude. I saw two tents far below at different locations. Otherwise I gratefully had the world to myself. I slept a third night on a hummock in Medley Lake, then entered the last leg of the trip, which took me over the saddle below Mount Hooper, one of my climbing goals. I was running late, however, and even the mere 700 feet to the 12,349-foot summit would take me too far into the night. So, Hooper waited until another time. The first part of the descent was steep, but had conveniently spaced small ledges, a staircase of sorts. The remaining descent to my friends' camp on the South Fork near Florence Lake, took several miles through fascinating scenery with lakes (with golden trout, but still, no time to fish), forest and open steep meadows. Much of this was on a mule trail, which was useful, especially when negotiating manzanita thickets. I finally strode into camp well after dark, whistling "Wabash Cannonball" on approaching to not startle anyone. My friend dashed out and halted me. I waited until he entered camp, then returned with a Moosehead beer. That and a warm bath were a lovely welcome return to society.

Response by CPO Aaron Holm made Jul 31 at 2021 1:58 PM

CPO Aaron Holm — Sat, 31 Jul 2021 13:58:35 -0400

Out of Shape/Not prepared
A buddy I had served with in the Coast Guard had moved to Northern California and suggested we backpack the Lost Trail. Years later, we finally made it a reality. I had hiked plenty of places and camped a number of times, but was completely green to backpacking. Right out the gate, the trail was more vertical than I had expected and it didn't take long for all the lightweight and dehydrated items in my backpack to add up to a pretty cumbersome load. I apologized frequently as I needed to rest my burning thighs with all the changes in elevation. We didn't quite make it to our destination on the first day, but settled on a flat spot where the only accommodations offered were enough room to set up the tent and a rock that we could take turns sitting on. A shade-providing tree would have been a nice touch, but we took what we could get. The next day was filled with day hikes around the area and trips to the beach before heading back home on the third day. I can't help feeling like a disappointment because I was the reason we didn't take the trail further, but I am thankful that my friend, not once, complained about the abbreviated expedition. Not if, but when, we do this again, I will be better prepared, not with lighter gear, but with more conditioned muscles.

Response by PVT Michael Cornejo made Jul 31 at 2021 4:12 PM

PVT Michael Cornejo — Sat, 31 Jul 2021 16:12:00 -0400

I was in a camping trip somewhere in the northern mountains of Luzon as a member of the Philippines Cub Scouts. I was 10 years old and thinking, ‘I am a big boy’ now because not only do I have two digits to my age, I am also in this trip with all my guy friends, there are no parents, and we outnumber the adults by a huge margin. While the guys were lined up to get breakfast, I saw a group of scout leaders all drinking coffee in the corner of some stools. They looked so bad ass in their uniforms. The food line was still long so I went to the drinking station where they served hot drinks. I went and got a huge mug of chocolate milk, then proceeded to hang out with the big guys and listened to their stories of the outdoors, weaponry, traps, and obstacle courses. When the cool guys finished, I couldn’t wait to show off my skills at the obstacle courses in front of the girl scouts. As we were preparing for the hike, my stomach grumbled. The thing was, I didn't know, "lactose intolerance" was a thing. I was about to find out in the worst way. When the guys went off, I said something along the lines of just wanting to stay and do pushups. Somehow they shrugged that nonsense off and let me be. I went scrambling for a toilet, and found a shed, just somewhere I can squat in private. It was dark and hot in there. My ass was sneeze-throwing up. I was peeing out of it. Tis science and physics! When I was done, there was no water, no toilet paper. So I used my shirt and underwear to clean myself off. That was the first and last time I ever threw away underwear because I violated it so bad. I missed out on the hike and some obstacle courses where I could’ve earned some badges of cool. But hey, there’s no memory of anyone of my peers telling me about diarrhea leaking out of my shorts either. That would’ve been devastating to my 10-year old self. Somehow I find myself telling this story to friends and family when on field trips and bonfires. It was the first of two diarrhea stories. The other happened at a wedding.

Response by SP5 Lisa Mannion made Aug 2 at 2021 12:14 PM

SP5 Lisa Mannion — Mon, 02 Aug 2021 12:14:15 -0400

*BTW I posted on my page on RallyPoint yesterday by the deadline. I didn’t know about posting here. I hope my entry will still be considered. Thank you so for your time and the opportunity to share my best time in the military!

Here’s my “Best Hiking Story” for the RallySweeps Sweepstakes. Enjoy! I sure did!
Since I left the service, hiking amongst nature has become a therapeutic experience. Rain, snow, or shine, I start every day hiking in the Illinois Cook County Forest Preserves. In the army, I was a paratrooper in the 82nd Airborne Division. After jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft, I’d hike, sometimes a half-hour to my pick-up site carrying my 40-pound ruck with my bundled-up parachute. Instead of moaning of back pain, I embraced the suck (so to speak), and every time, the completion of my mission felt cathartic and empowering. At Fort Bragg, NC, we’d also ruck for hours in the forest with our tactical equipment weighing on our back. Those were indeed the most powerful bonding experiences I will ever have. Something about the suck, the stink, the sweat, that creates a lifetime bond.
I guess you could say I was an adrenaline junkie back then. Now, I just enjoy my time alone, hiking, reminiscing, daydreaming of the future, humming a tune while I venture off the beaten path. In fact, I often use those melodies that I hum and write a song when I return home after a long journey. That’s how impactful and healing nature is. She has soothed my soul and keeps inspiring me to this day. My hiking experiences may not be the most extreme, but they are cherished because they are my gift from nature. I am truly grateful to have set foot in the most beautiful trails of Illinois and North Carolina.
Thanks, RallyPoint for this opportunity to share my love of nature. And what an incentive, I love Cabela’s! I could always use a new pair of hiking boots. If there’s one thing I learned in the army, you must always take care of your feet because nobody likes a stink foot!
@RallySweeps Best Camping, Hunting, Hiking Story Sweepstakes

Response by RallyPoint News made Aug 2 at 2021 1:40 PM

RallyPoint News — Mon, 02 Aug 2021 13:40:30 -0400

Congratulations to PO3 Lily Robertson, SSgt Walter Finley, SGT Jeff Long, Maj Matthew Estrem, and SMSgt Michael Gleason! You've all won a $100 Cabela's gift card! An e-gift card will be sent to the email address associated with your RallyPoint account.

Thanks to all who participated and shared their stories!

Response by Sgt Frank Hupp, DTM made Aug 3 at 2021 7:11 PM

Sgt Frank Hupp, DTM — Tue, 03 Aug 2021 19:11:12 -0400

Many years ago I was archery hunting in the mountains of eastern Oregon. I was a hot September day. I had hiked about 3/4 of a mile to my elevated hunting platform. It was in a triangle of trees about 25' high. I was sitting there just enjoying life. A summer storm with wind, rain and lightning blew in. I put my raingear on and was sitting there enjoying the storm and watching the lightning. I like lightning storms. My compound bow was hanging on a limb next to my head. It dawned on me that I might be a lightning rod. A gathered my gear and climbed down and started to walk away. Just then lightning struck a tree about 100' away from me. It startled me. I watched the tree catch fire from the ground up. It was an awesome display of God's power. I thought how lucky I was that I was on the ground and that lightning had not struck me. Sgt. Frank E. Hupp, USAF retired

Response by PO2 Russell "Russ" Lincoln made Aug 13 at 2021 2:38 PM

PO2 Russell "Russ" Lincoln — Fri, 13 Aug 2021 14:38:18 -0400

When I was stationed at NH Naples we belonged to the Breakaway Motor Cycle Club. We would ride to our camping spot most weekends during the summer. Our favorite camp site was an old farm out in the country side. There was an old monistary in the woods on top of a hill. My wife and I still miss the campfire stories told at those campouts.

Response by SPC Dane Hall made Aug 13 at 2021 7:27 PM

SPC Dane Hall — Fri, 13 Aug 2021 19:27:20 -0400

Two week's in the Kalahari Desert, South Africa.

Response by Cpl Tyler Therrien made Aug 16 at 2021 8:27 PM

Cpl Tyler Therrien — Mon, 16 Aug 2021 20:27:26 -0400

A little off subject but too funny not to share; Roughly 40 yrs ago my 1st wife Lynn & I (then GF) having been out on a date but did not wish to return to her parents home yet as we could not even be in a room with the door closed. So we stopped at Mount royal park, we were sitting at a picnic table and in the dim light we saw what we thought was a stray cat. Lynn immediately started calling to it and it turned and approached us coming into the street light- well it was NOT a cat but a great big skunk! Needless to say we beat a hasty retreat and escaped unsprayed.

Response by CW3 Joseph Lawrence made Aug 18 at 2021 4:54 PM

CW3 Joseph Lawrence — Wed, 18 Aug 2021 16:54:37 -0400

Had to be at Holiday Travel Park in Virginia Beach, Virginia. Had a Canadian pull in next to me and he had three of the most beautiful daughters I have ever seen. He pulled out a chair and sat down with a case of cold beer and the girls put everything up, while he yelled at them constantly. He failed to notice that the tent they erected next to his camper had a tie down that went thru the back of his chair and close to the bumper of his car. He yelled at his wife to go get him some more beer and when she left with the car so did the tent and the chair with him in it. I don't know what happened to him but the very next day it was just the three girls and their mother. Kind of made me smile a bit.

Response by SPC Robert Bobo made Aug 19 at 2021 4:30 PM

SPC Robert Bobo — Thu, 19 Aug 2021 16:30:28 -0400

My parents loved camping and hiking, my Dads best friend climbed Mt Witney every couple years and Dad said my brother and I could go with him and his son in 1971, 2 nights up and I night down, fantastic experience , his son got sick after 1st night and we went for it alone and made it. Pictures attached are my brother and I heading to top of MT Witney and me signing book, also dad, my brother and me in 1961 at Yosemite

Response by PO2 Kirk Saville made Sep 1 at 2021 11:07 PM

PO2 Kirk Saville — Wed, 01 Sep 2021 23:07:23 -0400

My wife and I were camping with several friends at Taylor Park Reservoir on the Taylor River in Gunnison County, Colorado. It is a spectacular place should you have the opportunity to go one day, you’ll find it well worth the trip.

My loving bride and I had at the time a 16’6” kevlar canoe which we fished out of. So we were out on the lake fishing when my wife’s spinning rig became tangled, as was the norm. So I gave her my fishing rod to use while I worked on untangling her fishing rod, as was also the norm. While I was earnestly working at undoing the mess I was presented she hooked a fish. Again the norm. She was so excited and busy reeling in the fish which was giving her quite the fight. Alas she was able to bring the fish in which turned out to be about a 12” Northern Pike! She was so happy to catch a fish but very disappointed to find out it was a baby PIKE! They are so ugly you know.

Her Pike was flopping and jumping around inside the canoe and I am busy trying to get ahold of it. My wife is yelling “Get him” and “That thing is so ugly” and “Through him back” etc. etc. etc.

Well me, I’m sitting in the back of the canoe with a big ball of fishing line trying to keep the ugly fish from making a bigger mess of the mess I have and desperately trying to snag said “Ugly Fish”. Eventually I was able to get ahold of the baby pike. Baby pike are very energetic and are hard to hang on to! I had put a Rapela lure with two treble hooks and the poor guy had nearly swallowed the entire lure. I was able to actually free him of one hook when the fish really took to flopping around and got loose form my grip. In the process I got hooked in the left hand by the free treble hook! Now it was Ugly Fish and ME caught on the the same Rapela lure! While I am trying to stay calm and regain control of the fish the hook is going ever more deeper into my hand! My loving bride is in the front of the boat yelling at either me or the ugly fish but yelling none the less.

It seemed as though it was for ever while this was going on but eventually ugly fish through himself off the hook but was still flopping around the canoe. it was a relief to be free of the fish but I’m still hooked to the lure. I tossed the ugly fish over board and began assessing the aftermath of this whole event. My wife was concerned that people who might have observed the whole thing would think we had gone crazy out on the water. I assured her that they most certainly would believe that.

I had one leg of a treble hook buried in the top web between my thumb and finger of my left hand. I cut the lure away but could not get the hook out. We were a good ways out on the lake and I thought I might need the help of someone getting this thing out of me. We went back to shore, loaded the canoe and headed back to the camp.

At camp several of my friends tried to help me get this hook out but it was really deep. We tried pushing it through but things got worse. Eventually it was determined that I needed to go to the Emergency Room in Gunnison to have a Doctor get it out. It was late in the afternoon and by this time everyone but me had partaken of some form of Adult Beverage. I drove myself to Gunnison. Not a problem.

The emergency room Doctor tried to get the hook out but was concerned because it was so deeply embedded into my hand he opted to call for the on call surgeon to come and remove it. Eventually the hook was removed and I got back to camp in time to have a few beverages of my own.

I wonder at times if that Ugly Fish ever tells his fish friends the story of the “The One That Got Away”.

Response by Cpl Craig Howard made Sep 3 at 2021 11:35 AM

Cpl Craig Howard — Fri, 03 Sep 2021 11:35:04 -0400

My last hunt before Boot Camp was for Deer and Elk in Colorado. Normally it was with my Dad and brother, but this year one of my uncles and two cousins came, as well as my brother-in-law. We were having issues with deep snow and people were coming down with something to where my Dad had to run them into town and stay at a Motel. It snowed one night, and there was a pristine blanket when we went to sleep. We woke up early to get going, and there were HUGE Mountain Lion tracks right through the middle of our camp. We had a lot to talk about for the rest of the trip.

Response by SPC Justine Blankenbeckler made Oct 22 at 2021 12:26 AM

SPC Justine Blankenbeckler — Fri, 22 Oct 2021 00:26:45 -0400

How come I receive these after they have ended?

Response by SFC Joe S. Davis Jr., MSM, DSL made Mar 15 at 2023 5:43 AM

SFC Joe S. Davis Jr., MSM, DSL — Wed, 15 Mar 2023 05:43:20 -0400

Thanks for sharing