Scary camping sounds and things that go bump in the night

Eerie voices, creepy crawlies, predators and the elements couldn't keep me away.

Buried under my sleeping bag during my first camping trip as an adult, I almost froze. Cawing ravens and naughty squirrels woke me up at dawn and chewed me out for being there.

Distressed by the absence of shower facilities, I complained about washing my hair. My ex snickered and told me to warm some water on the campfire and pour it over my head. Desperate, I followed his advice and experienced rejuvenation.

When my body thawed out, I enjoyed the sights, sounds and smells of nature. From the crackling fire to the trees waving in the wind and songbirds singing a delightful melody, I became hooked. The memory of shivering in the fetal position with my teeth clattering continuously the previous night escaped me.

Nothing compares to the deliciousness of food cooked on a Coleman stove in the open air.

I'd spend the next 10 years off the grid, camping in the Alberta Foothills, tracking wild horses on horseback, to photograph them and various critters native to the area.

On one occasion, a grizzly and her twin cubs hunted us and another time, a cougar stalked us. Our Akitas acted as our bodyguards and swiftly scared off any dangerous animal that threatened us.

I know what the expression means when your blood runs cold. It is a thing. A cow moose protecting her newborn calf is the most dangerous of them all. Momma bore down on us at a full gangly gallop, snorting like a steaming locomotive. Thankfully, the dogs intercepted her at 100 yards. She spun around and led the pair in the opposite direction, away from her calf. No harm and no foul, nevertheless, the encounter ended up being dreadful. The dogs proudly came back, tongues hanging out with tails wagging.

Eerie noises in the dead of night made my hair stand on end. First, a cougar screamed one night. Then, a pack of wolves encircled our camper, calling to each other on another occasion. I was appreciative that we had moved on from tenting it at that point.

After leaving my ex, I met Len, the love of my life. We bought a small holiday trailer and enjoyed some tamer camping experiences for a time.

In 2020, amidst the lockdown, I longed for a camping adventure and the tranquillity of the great outdoors. Consequently, I pitched a tent on the balcony and spent the ensuing evening hours being serenaded by the deafening chorus of a billion chirping crickets at a volume of 100 decibels each. The ear plugs proved to be ineffective, yet I resolved to wait patiently for them to stop. In a state of semi-consciousness and delirium, I wandered through the realm of limbo, exhausted from lack of sleep.

My husband remained nearby, deep in sleep, and had earlier commented, "Why would you abandon our perfectly comfortable bed to sleep in a tent on the deck?"

He, rightly so, thought I'd gone bonkers. Sheepishly I crawled out of the tent to the sounds of our neighbours conversing on their balcony while enjoying a morning coffee. They stood there, mouths agape at the sight of my dog and me slipping into the house. My fearless pooch, not impressed with sleeping in a tent either, tried to escape several times.

Len helped build a platform for the back of the RAV a couple of years later, which we then covered with a “foamy” for sleeping. I attended a women's church camp-out. If you don't have a problem with the sensation of being in an enormous coffin, then it is fine. Mysteriously, the vehicle locked itself at 3 a.m. and I panicked, as I couldn't unlock it with the fob. I saw a young man with a red flaming lantern briskly walking. Did that individual only appear human? I wondered. He seemed to patrol the place.

More recently, Len and I spent the weekend at a Drumheller, Alberta campsite in our new tent, squeezed in with a sea of campers. Kids tormented us with their flashlights screaming, squealing and tearing around until 11 p.m. When the children quietened, the adults chattered noisily.

A couple close by got busy in the dark. The ethereal sounds were the ones that jolted me awake, though. Fearfully, I inquired about the identity of the entity, and it responded, "Diana".

According to Roman mythology, Diana held the role of the goddess of childbirth, fertility, the moon and was a patron of wild beasts. However, she is renowned for being the goddess of the hunt.

Could it be she was hunting me? The following afternoon, our air mattress sprung a leak, so we departed.

Divine intervention perhaps?

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.