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Funny or at least humorous camping stories


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yeah i know i have no life lol

 

I thought it might be "fun" tell funny camping stories here's mine:

 

I went to an amusement park with my uncle and his family and we camped out instead of staying in a hotel. My cousin, my sister and I shared a one and a half person tent (i am not kidding seriously that is how big it was) with all of our duffles. My cousins brother put up the tent for us, the place we were camping on was flat and marshy cause it was raining, the top of the tent (ah.. the little dome thing) was gone so he put the tarp over the tent. We spent the entire day on rollercoasters and crawled into the tent that night and it started to rain it rained all weekend while we were there. We wake up the next morning the wall of the tent out drenched and we can't brethe cause there is not air movement, the sleeping bags are wet cause the ground underneath us is wet, when we open the door to get out of the tent we have to push the tarp back and the water that collected there (of course) ran down and drenched us, we cannot dry our clothes cause the air is damp, we cannot make a fire cause the wood is wet (later my cousins brother poored like half a can of lighter fluid on it and it burned for like four hours) it's a half mile walk to the bathroom, there is mud everywhere, there are no lights at night to see where you're going, we brought flashlights but not batteries (glow sticks rock!!!) Basically we spent all weekend damp and tired and maybe that's not a very funny story but i would sooo do it again!

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Since today is the "Big Game", I thought I would share this story:

 

Four summers ago, we were backpacking in Northern Ontario. One cold morning I found out a young scout, David, had forgotten to pack a sweatshirt. Luckly, one of the dads had an extra sweatshirt with him - a Michigan sweatshirt. Unfortunately, David's two parents had both graduated from Ohio State, and were a bad influences on David. He did not want to put on that swearshirt! I "strongly encourage" David to put it on.

 

Later when we got home, I told David's dad about it. "Good for David," was his reply.

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Back several (several, several) years ago in my early college days, my younger brother was coming up through our home troop. I came home one weekend to serve as one of the leaders for a trip to Baxter State Park in north central Maine.

 

Saturday evening of the trip, bro was talking to friends when someone asked him to move the fire grate. He was so enthralled in his conversation that he reached over bare-handed and removed the grate from the fire while continuing to talking. He trailed off when he realized that everyone had become silent and were staring at him. It was then that he realized what he had done (and fianlly started to feel the pain) and high tailed it down to the lake to cool off his burned hand. Fortunately, only 1st degree.

 

Now he's scoutmaster and still talks about this event to his scouts. "...we nearly had handburger that weekend..."

 

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David and I were campmates at Philmont back in 64 with tarp type tents. He never said too much so I followed suit. We began our first evening without the Ranger which meant we were trained and ready. It rained. David set the tent up since I was elsewhere. I ran back to camp, grabbed my gear and got in my side of the tent. I thought that I would take a nap because it was cool out. It was also uncomfortable because my head was kind of downhill. After a few minutes, I noticed David moving to the middle where our gear was stored. Next he was on top of it because water was running down his side. Then I noticed my side getting the same treatment. Next, both of us were crowded on top of the equipment trying to stay dry like rats. Nothing was said until he looked over at me and said, gully washer. We then proceeded to go outside and find a flat spot away from the hill while the rain continued to soak us. I suppose we never really finish training. fb

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It was back in the summer of '72, and I was at summer camp with my troop at Two Bear Scout camp near Weyerhauser Wisconsin. It was late evening and the guys were starting to turn in as the SM had announced that it was 10pm..hit your sack!

 

I was detailed to douse the fire, but before I did I was gonna have a few more 'mallers ( thats 'sconsin for marshmallow). There I was squatting near the fire with the bag of 'mallers at my feet with the fire all to my self and the quiet was soothing. I heard a slight rustle behind me which I dismissed as someone in their tent moving around or rollong over.

 

Suddendly, I noticed a black and white furry thing getting familiar with the bag of 'mallers. The black and white critter was of course a skunk who had come up from behind me and was now enjoying 'mallers while parked directly under neath my squatting form.

 

Being quite petrified with fear of forever smelling like a Pepe de pugh, I managed the trick of freezing my bodys motion to even include breathing. The SM yelled from his tent just about then about finally dousing the fire...I thought I would have had a heart attack...luckily the skunk backed away from the 'mallers and back to where skunks went at Two bear when the werent stealing food and bringing on premature gray hair in 14 year old scouts.

 

Nobody believed me the next day when I told them what happened...until later that night when one of the new tenderfoots stashed a Baby-Ruth in his pack and Pepe paid a visit to his pack in his tent..he didnt get eau de skunk..but his tent mate claimed he generated his own rather unique odor when he discovered the uninvited guest.

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My wood badge class was 2 weekends, one each at the two camps owned by our Council. The first day of the first weekend, just after lunch we crossed over from Cubs to Boy Scouts and learned our patrols. As the creemony was ending, the rain started and we all retreated to Gilwell Hall (basement of the dining hall. The staff was making adjustments to work around the weather when our Course Director came in and told us that we had a "Window of Opportunity" to set up our camp sites as the rain had tapered off for a bit. We left the hall and when we were about 1/2 way to the campsite area where all our gear was, the skies opened once again. we huddled under portable shelters for a while and finally started putting our tents up in the rain. This sure brought out the teamwork among the aptrols and ALL members of the class. I think I had 4 scoutsers helping me put my tent up and it's a quick pop-up type of tent! Some were luckier than others and some ended up with much of their gear totally soaked so our quartermasters were taking what they could to the one dryer available at camp and drying out what they could while the group were in training all afternoon (in Gilwell Hall as it was STILL raining). It continued to rain off and on all of that first weekend. We had some time when we could be outside but not as much as I'm sure is typical. Even our Scouts Own service at the end of the first weekend was held in what started out a drizzle and ended as constant rain.

The second weekend started out nice, we were able to find our capsites and set them up while it was dry out but, as seemed "normal" to us by then, we had rain each afternoon. We laughed about it and all had a good time nevertheless. We all teased the CD about his "window of opprotunity" throughout the class and presented him with a real window with 9 panes in it, 8 panes were devoted to the 8 WB patrols and signed by all members of the patrol and the center pane was inscribed with "Window of Opportunity". This window has since been installed at one of the buildings at the camp where we spent our second weekend.

For class WE5-61-04, rain will always be "great wood badge weather" :)

 

Note - I understand that whenever that CD shows up at a WB class, it starts to rain, no matter what the weahter has been prior to his arrival.

 

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We had an ASM who was a great prankster...(funny pranks, not detrimental). Monte was also the "early riser" of the group & often had the coffee going by 4:30 AM. As SM, (& gullible) I was often on the receiving end of his jokes. One weekend right after duck hunting season opened, we were camping close to home. Monte couldn't stay with us, but did come out to help with the program. Saturday morning, about 4:45, I heard a duck quacking & quacking near my tent. Finally I yelled, "Monte! Knock it off!", knowing he was practicing his duck calls nearby, like he had the prior day. The ruckus quit. Soon he was back at it. I hollered at him again. The quacking stopped. When he started in again at 5:15 AM, I unzipped my tent to come out & grouch him. A duck flew off from the stream beside my tent. However, Monte WAS sitting in camp getting a great chuckle. He said it was better than doing it himself! And...of course he shared the story in great detail with the troop.

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