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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.

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.

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.

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!

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!

*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

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.

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!

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.

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!