My First & Last Camping Experience

Only once did I ever go camping. It was the 60’s and I was with my girl scout troop. We went on a camping trip to somewhere in upstate NY. Those two days turned out to be pure misery, and this experience has stayed with me till this day. And, as a result, I never ever went camping again.

I don’t remember the year, but I think it was during elementary school when I was old enough to go places on my own. My parents dropped me off on a Saturday morning. Don’t remember exactly where the bus took us, but it was outside Yonkers in some place upstate where there was a campground.

The experience started off poorly before I even boarded the bus along with a bunch of other girls my age. This woman who had a strong sense of authority stopped me before getting on the bus. She chided me and told me that my bedroll was not properly done. She then made me reroll it up and gave me directives in a loud enough voice that everyone took notice and watched. I had a bedroll made from a blanket that contained all my toiletries and things I had packed for the trip. I did not have a store-bought sleeping bag like most of the others because my family didn’t have one at the time. This moment was embarrassing, and I was close to tears.

After the bus trip, we were given tents to set up for that night. I had never slept in a tent before, and I ended up being given a 6-person tent that another girl in my troop Wendy Z and I would share. It was another first-hand experience; I would have that weekend. It took us a bit to assemble it, but it ended up being the only good thing that happened to me that weekend. With just the two of us, we had plenty of room to sleep which was unlike others who had those single pup tents.

I don’t remember much as to what we did during the day but all the food that we were served was burnt. The people assigned to this task had no idea what they were doing. I remembered how my father used to barbeque and everything would be perfectly cooked. When I saw the aluminum foil chicken and corn placed directly on a huge pile of coals, I knew things would not turn out well. I didn’t see anyone watching the fire and all the food on the coals ended up being burn. And, then for breakfast the next day things weren’t much better. The pancakes we got were also burnt though they were cooked in an open pan.

Then there was the worst of the worst experience, the latrines. On the first night I had to go to the bathroom. We had flashlights to get there. The latrines stunk profusely and were so full of flies that after I did my business, I ran out of the building as fast as I could. The other girls were also having a bad experience, and one could hear it in their voices. I had never ever used a latrine before, and I never dreamed of this as the way to do my business. After that night, I didn’t go back there and didn’t go for the rest of the trip.

When I got home, the first thing I did was run to the bathroom. My mother who was in the backyard of our home saw me come home Sunday afternoon. But I didn’t even stop to say hello and ran inside to use the bathroom. When I came out to talk to my mother, she seemed to know that something was wrong.

As a child and then as an adult, I hiked in many different places, but never ever would I think about staying overnight in a camp again. Having a toilet that flushed was very important to me. I did have experiences with porta potties for single use from time to time but truly when I could I preferred to go in the woods squatting down to do my business.

Once as a member of Westchester Trails (Association). I heard a lecture by a young man who had hiked the full length of the Appalachian Trail. It was when he showed us the bars on the shelters in the Smokies that were used to sleep in that I knew I wasn’t cut out to be an overnight camper. The bars were to keep the bears out and one had to string their gear onto tree branches hanging out from a limb at night as well. I did hike the Appalachian Trail at various places in NY, NJ and CT but was just a day tripper.

As for bears, I did get my first and last encounter with a live bear when I was living in Mars Hill for 18 months from April 1976 to July 1977. Small brown bear sped across Rt 1 when I was driving with a friend to Baxter State Park. The bear went across the road just north of Houlton. If I didn’t have someone with me in the car, I might not have believed it really happened. I had to slam on my brakes while praying that I would miss the bear and that the 19-wheeler hugging my tail would not hit me. We were going to visit a friend at Baxter State Park who had a camp nearby. We only saw a silver fox in the park though I thought we might encountered a Moose.

I did go to the Smokies as an adult on a trip to North Carolina (NC)and made a point to go on the Appalachian trail at the border between NC and Tennessee. Lucky for me I never saw any bears then either. I am not fond of large wild creatures except for deer that I was used to seeing on hikes.