eye's hindsight vol 5

wilderness camping with satan

as a boy scout, many summers contained a week or so during which i would go to a summer camp. it was always good times, in spite of natures various pests, undercooked food of all flavors, and truly frightening odors emanating from all around. during the summer between (if i recall correctly) my freshman and sophomore year in high school, summer camp was skipped, and instead the eldest scouts (of which i was one) went on a week long trip through the ozarks of missouri.

the (chock full o' pseudonymns) group consisted of myself, gray, frodo, mathes, mr. mathes, and scout master. part of me swears there were more kids than that, but i honestly cant remember anybody else being there.

the trip began when we arrived in the late afternoon/early evening. we set up our tents right at the beginning of the part of the ozark trail that we intended to hike. see, the plan was this: there were two vehicles for our ride down there. mr. mathes and scoutmaster would drive both vehicles to the next road intersection on the trail, drop one vehicle off, and then drive back in the other vehicle to where we were. essentially we would then hike to the dropped off vehicle (leaving the other behind). when we reached the vehicle (after i think two or three days), we could stock up on supplies. then mr. mathes and scoutmaster would get in the vehicle, pick up the one theyd left behind, then go ahead and drop one off further down the line.

im getting away from the story here. so while they dropped off the vehicle and returned, we set up camp. gray and i shared a tent (he was one of my best friends at the time), mr. mathes shared a tent with mathes, and scoutmaster shared a tent with frodo. everything went well enough in the evening, and we went to bed looking forward to leaving first thing after breakfast.

oh, another note; mr. mathes smoked. and decided that since he didnt want to have to bring them around, worry about them getting wet, or litter, he decided he just wouldnt smoke that week. wonderful. so in the middle of the first night, mr. mathes has an intense asthma attack - stopped breathing almost entirely, thrashed about in his tent. i remember laying there with my eyes wide open, listening to him gasp and thrash about hitting the sides of the tent and whatnot, the whole time mathes repeating "are you ok? are you ok? holy shit! are you ok?" freaked me right out. after about 30 seconds he was alright, but it really should have served as an omen for the next day...

i dont exactly remember how most of the next day went, honestly. we hiked i think around 8 or 9 miles (which doesnt sound like much, but with a 50-60 pound backpack on your back, and when youre between the ages of 13-16, its a lot. around probably 3 or 3:30 pm we decided to start looking for a place to set up camp. we had a topographical map of the area, and were studying it to see if we could find a place that looked flat (remember, the ozarks are mountains. not like the rockies, or even the apalachains, but mountains none the less).

there appeared to be a place just up ahead on the trail, that not only looked flat, but fairly sizable (enough for 3 tents and a fire pit), and appeared to be the top of a hill (so if it rained, all water would flow down away from us, rather than being at the bottom of a hill where it flows right into us). so we hiked ahead to check it out.

i was probably last or second to last in the line, so i was one of the last to get there. everybody else was already dead set on staying by the time i got there. as soon as i walked up, i didnt like the look of it at all. seriously, it looked like it had been the site of some kind of satanic/occult ritual. there were five fire pits at perfect pentogram points, and in the middle were a small cluster of five trees where logs of wood had been hung around and between the trees forming a strange wooden pentogram. there was also a couple of big flat stones laying in one spot, and appeared to me to be a knocked over altar. hell no i wasnt staying there! i didnt even set my pack down (the other guys all had). i alone refused. i said there was no way i would stay the night there. the others were all sitting on the logs set up in a perfect circle around the whole area, and were fairly irritated at having to go again.

scoutmaster, being the one to end confrontation whenever he could, pointed out on the map that just a few miles ahead, just off the trail, was a flat, probably treeless area right along a nearby river. he said it would make a beautiful place to sleep, and said we should go there. everybody agreed, and so we started moving.

and thats when the fun began.

it was about a half a mile later. i was walking in front, scouting out the trail. i dont really remember who was walking behind me and in what order, except gray was in the back. now, i have to mention - at its best, the trail we were following was essentially a six inch wide dirt trail, with about 2 feet on either side generally cleared away. so at its best, the trail was reasonably followable. at its worst, the trail was essentially a 4-6 inch clearing between plants. not very clear. so i was walking along, we were all exausted. the sounds consisted mainly of footsteps, breathing, and the occasional sound of a walking stick hitting the ground.

with absolutely no warning whatsoever, i saw gray sprint past me.

now, again, i need to insert a bit here. gray was a bigger guy. im average sized, gray was bigger than me. he was actually, i believe, the biggest guy on the trip, including scoutmaster and mr. mathes. gray was also not really afraid of much of anything. he was a very outdoorsy kind of guy, and also not easily spooked by much (as he didnt believe in much, because he was a strong christian). so, when i'm still a bit shaken up from just having hung out in a satanic ritual spot (i just had a bad vibe about the place... so i was sorta spooked), and i see all 6' or so, 250 pounds or so of gray, wearing a 55 pound backpack, sprint past me at full speed, dammit i dont ask questions, i just run like hell. in fact all six of us ran at full speed. probably a quarter mile later, maybe even another half mile, gray slowed down and stopped to catch his breath. it is here that we all stop. i asked gray what the hell happened.

he informed me that while walking, he had accidntally hit a beehive that was in the dirt with his walking stick. as soon as he got stung, he bolted. in fact, it was found that everybody (except me) had gotten stung at least once. gray had actually been stung 3 times, mathes twice, frodo i think once or twice, scoutmaster once or twice, and mr. mathes once in the ankle. problem - mr. mathes was allergic to bees. and we were around 50 miles from the nearest civilization. dammit.

luckily it was only his ankle, so though it swelled up, it just made it a bit difficult to walk for him. i think it was alright within a day or so.

anyway, we stood there catching our breath. i was looking around for the path to continue following it, gray was facing me. all of a sudden gray drops his bag is standing in front of me holding his walking stick like he was freaking captain ahab about to harpoon me through my heart, saying "hold still..." as my life flashed before my eyes, i looked down and saw a yellowjacket sitting on my sternum. suddenly realizing that gray intended to smash it against my ribcage with a solid thump from his walking stick, i shouted "nononononononononono!" and swatted the bee away from my chest. hell, id rather it stung my hand than be speared by grays walking stick.

so we continued walking. we got about another mile and a half or so, and realized that the trail went right through a creek. nice. nearby was a nice thick fallen tree, and that was gonna be our best bet for crossing. see, you have to understand, the absolute worst thing that can happen on a hiking/backpacking trip is having your shoes/socks get wet - that causes blisters, lots of them, and nasty ones. cant get your shoes wet. well, naturally, one of us fell off the fallen tree while crossing it. mathes fell. now this was bad enough for him, but of course, he had to make it bad for us by crying about it for the next half hour (he was the youngest in the group...).

while we were stopped with mathes crying and trying to dry his shoes, it became apparent that frodo wasnt going to make it much further (he was the smallest of us by far - im not sure he was even 5' tall, and had a 60 lb. pack on his back). i was getting mad. i wanted to just be done and eat and just camp for the night.

the spot we were looking for appeared to be just ahead. it was suggested by scoutmaster that gray and i hike up ahead to see if we could find it, and leave our packs behind.

another rule of wilderness hiking - never split up. you can never be sure if youll find your group again if you get lost. we had no other way of communication, and we were talking about upwards of another mile or so.

so gray and i hiked ahead to find it. after about two miles, we realized we couldnt find it, and headed back. mathes met us half-way without his pack, and let us know that scoutmaster and frodo went off-trail to try to find it and were gonna let us know when they found it.

another rule, right along with never split up, is never go off trail.

so gray, mathes, and i hiked back to mr. mathes who was with all of our packs. frodo and scoutmaster were gone, and had their packs with them. we grabbed our packs and started back down the trail, shouting to scoutmaster and frodo to see if they could tell us if they found it or not. eventually we heard them call back... they sounded far away. not to mention there was a river running nearby, creating plenty of noise.

a short time later we realized that they had found the spot, so we went off trail to go find them by following their voices. due to the many trees and the sound of the river, it was rather difficult to figure out where exactly their voices came from. after a bit of bush-whacking through some rather thick woods, we found ourself in a rather beautiful patch of very tall evergreen trees, where the limbs dont actually start until about 20 feet up - so there were a bunch of trunks, but no plant life on the ground, just brown needles. very easy walking. it was nice. of course, following those voices, we found ourseleves on the edge of this forrested area, right on the lip of an expance of shoulder high bushes. their voices were on the other side fo them.

so we started trudging through these bushes, only to find that they were giant thorn bushes. i mean the bushes were giant, not the thorns. the thorns were tiny... almost hair like. and they got you through clothing. i started to lose it a little bit. i was covered shoulder to ankle with a rash of tiny needles poking and stabbing as i walked.

finally we came to the edge of the needle forest, and finally saw scoutmaster and frodo - about 80 yards away, between us a huge stretch of waist high grasses (btw, this is snake country we're talking about here, and snakes love to hang out in tall grasses, since thats where many a rodent also hangs out), and just before them, a creek.

sonuva... god dammit!

so there i stood, itching and pinching like madness because of those god forsaken thorns stabbing every inch of me, staring out at what was, as far as i was concerned, my doom (because i figured the odds of getting bitten by something poisonous during this last walk were probably about 10 to 1, and we were nowhere near a hospital). i stood front and center of the group, with all the other guys to my side or behind me. i swore rather loudly, and started freaking out about how we were going to get bit by rattlesnakes before we could even get to frodo and scoutmaster (who were calmly setting up a tent in this perfect contrast against what i saw as pure hell in between).

somebody told me to calm down, i think, but i dont remember so well... see, it was right about here that i snapped.

it sort of blacks out here... but next thing i really remember was sort of "coming to", standing in the river, in my underwear, washing hell-thorns out of my legs...

turning around slowly, i walked out of the river like nothing was wrong or strange at all. gray was about 15 feet away, in the river (clothed), washing his arms and lower legs of thorns. the rest of the group was on the beach setting up camp, seemingly avoiding my gaze, and staying a fair distance away from me.

i was later that evening told exactly what happened (actually, after emerging from the river, almost baptized from the sin-barbs that had implanted themselves all over my body, i said out loud, but not loudly, to nobody in particular, "i have no idea what the hell just happened").

so i was told: apparently, after freaking out at the edge of the grasses, i suddenly started boldly marching through the grasses, all the while screaming "f*** you snakes! bite me! bite me! ill kick your rattlesnake ass! bite meeeee!" at the very end, just before the creek, i picked up the pace to a run, and then, screaming, launched myself over the creek (never mind the fact that the rest of the guys crossed about 8 feet away on a fallen tree).

upon reaching the little beach where scoutmaster and frodo were, i took off my 55 pound pack, threw it, stuck my arms straight out to my sides, middle fingers up, and proceeded to spin in a circle, flipping off the mountains, all the while screaming "f*** you ozarks!" I then quickly stripped off my clothes down to my tighty whiteys, and stepped into the river to wash off the thorns.