Campin' ...

Our camp site on Horse Island in 2010

     Howdy!  This next installment concerns the night my son and I slept out on Horse Island in Smith’s Slough.  This is where we had Our Encounter with somethin’ large & hairy walkin’ ‘round out there in them woods!  Any of y’all like campin’?  To me, there ain’t nothin’ more relaxin’ than sleepin’ outdoors … ‘specially at night.  The sound of owls, frogs & crickets just seem so soothin’.  I even love to sleep out back in my hammock on those rare occasions when I don’t have to go to work the next day.  Matter of fact, if it weren’t for skeeters, I’d sleep out in that hammock a lot more often.  Now, different folks camp different ways; some consider campin’ stayin’ in an RV … but that ain’t for me!  I can’t tell y’all how many times I’ve been awakened by an RV showin’ up late to a camp site, settin’-up and then runnin’ a friggin’ generator or an AC all night.  Really?  Hell, I used to have this buddy that rigged a window unit for his tent!  I ain’t sh¡ttin’ y’all; as long as he had a tent pad with water and electrical, he was set.  Oh, well … to each his own.  But I’ve been guilty of them situations too; like when I took the family campin’ when the kids was little.  Or, usually somewhere I was fishin’ for a few days … and really needed electrical to charge my trollin’ motor & crankin’ batteries.

 

     But what I really enjoy is primitive campin’ … hikin’-in with as few provisions as possible, and goin’ to places where you ain’t goin’ to hear nothin’ but nature.  If it don’t fit on your back, around your waist or if you can’t carry it comfortably … it don’t go.  No ice chests, camp stoves, chairs or comforts ... just hard-core roughin’ it; I like to go to remote places that are off trail … which means those places where there ain’t no trails!  But once I got married … doin’ that sorta campin’ became a rarity.  The first time I camped with my wife, we stayed in a hen-house unit off of Dam B, at the Martin Dies Jr. State Park.  The screened unit and public shower were a must for her needs.  But pretty-much well after that, my wife transformed as far as campin’ went.  She became a Girl Scout leader, and could pack-in and set-up with the best of ‘em.  Her campin’ skills really showed after we went through Hurricane Ike, ‘cause other than the heat … she never wavered when it came to roughin’ it.  Our family was fortunate that we still had a roof over our heads, and our kids were fortunate that my wife and I are country-folk who know how to improvise …

     After my son and I had Our Encounter at Caddo Lake in 2009, we decided to scout around out there in them woods!  The area of our encounter was an island, which could only be accessed by boat.  My son had just turned 14 when we planned to go campin’ out there.  Even though he had been huntin’ and fishin’ with me since he was a toddler, he had never really roughed-it … so we planned to stay overnight durin’ Spring Break of 2010.  We started gatherin’ gear before the Christmas holidays, and the items we didn’t already have were purchased as gifts.  He usually got new huntin’ clothes, a jacket and boots anyways.  But that year he got a hydration pack, a fanny-pack, a one-man bivi and machete as well.  At the time, he was too young to carry his own sidearm, so I purchased a can of UDAP Bear Spray with a chest harness for him.  He is very proficient with my Smith & Wesson .357, so I opted to carry it on this trip just in case.

     The area of our encounter was definitely not designated for campin’!  Even though it wasn’t technically in the Wildlife Management Area, it was public land … but I didn’t really feel the need to build a fire (which ended-up bein’ a HUGE mistake).  I did have the proper APH (Annual Public Hunting permit) … which meant that I could legally carry my gun.  Even though I was not huntin’ … in the eyes of the law I had the means to hunt.  I had even purchased my son an LPU (Limited Public Use permit) just in case we wandered off into the WMA, so better safe than sorry.  I had arranged for us to stay with our friends in Uncertain, and bass fish the majority of the time that we were there.  God forbid that somethin’ went wrong while we was out roughin’ it … so I had my buddy I could rely on for back-up.  He knew exactly where we’d be … how long we’d be out there and when to expect us back.  My son was now very familiar with the area and knew how to operate our boat as well as navigate back to Cypress Village … even in the dark if he had to.

     After visitin’ with our friends and fishin’ for a day and a half … on Monday, March 15, 2010 I grabbed our gear, loaded the boat and headed for Horse Island.  My son took video of most of our trip, and I took plenty of pictures.  When I finally poled the boat through the Cypress knees and beached-it in the back of Smith’s Slough … it was already pushin’ Noon.  The first thing my son saw when we got out of the boat was a bear track!  It wasn’t that big, and was at the water’s edge so we couldn’t cast it.  We found a clearin’ about 150 yards from where we beached the boat, and decided that was where we’d make camp.  If we had to make a hasty retreat, it made sense to not camp too far away from the boat.  As we made camp, the temperature was pushin’ 75° … so I had assumed we’d have a fairly mild night.  Well, y’all know what they say about assumin’ … ‘cause this “ass” decided we wouldn’t need sleepin’ bags; I left ‘em at the poutin’ house!  Hell, we had a couple of fleece throws each, plus we had our huntin’ jackets & thermals. Why would we need sleepin’ bags?  That’s just more baggage for us to carry …

     We set-up camp, ate and went scoutin’ for a couple of hours.  I had carried in a Coleman® lantern just in case, hung it and gathered some wood for a fire.  I cleared an area of brush and leaf-litter, and prepped a campfire … ready to light if we had an emergency.  We never lit either one; the plan was for us to be as quiet as possible and observe … not to let the world know where we were by havin’ a bonfire.  I had also rigged a trip-wire system around our campsite, to alert us if we had any wildlife get too close for our comfort.  We set-up our one-man bivouacs about 20 yds. off the bank of the slough.  It was still too early for snakes, and I figured the same would apply for the gators.  I pitched the bivis together, and then covered ‘em with skeeter nettin’ … ‘cause evidently it wasn’t too cold for them.  The last thing I did was set-out my Olympus 1GB digital sound recorder so I could capture audio of our entire evenin’.

     As the sun finally set, we heard a barrage of coyotes off in the not-too-far distance.  After awhile, it was apparent that they’d found somethin’ to eat … or turned on one of their own.  Next came the barred owls … whose concerto-bizarro  lasted throughout the entire night.  Shortly after 8:00 p.m., my sinuses went berserk.  At first I couldn’t breathe, but after a while, my nose ran profusely.  I dug into the First Aid Kit and found some liquid Benadryl … which calmed me about an hour later.  Our first visitors of the night were the pack of coyotes, which sounded as if they were within 50 yds. of our camp.  By 9:30 p.m., they were so close and loud, I unzipped the bivy with my pistol in hand … and walked in plain sight of them.  They didn’t like that much … and left as quickly as they had appeared.

   The Benadryl must’ve finally kicked-in, ‘cause my son woke me a little after 11:00 p.m., and I could smell again.  Somethin’ was close to the camp, and reeked like skunk.  I whispered, “Do you smell that?” and he replied “Yeah!”  We sat in silence in the darkness, listenin’ for any sound.  Somethin’ could be heard movin’ around us … but I couldn’t figure-out exactly what it was.  Within’ 15-minutes, the smell was gone.  This really puzzled me, ‘cause if it would have been a skunk, and that skunk would’ve sprayed … the smell would have lingered ‘til mornin’.  But the smell dissipated when whatever it was could no longer be heard.  That was real unsettlin’ … and the .357 clutched against my chest seemed to lose its comfort appeal.  But that wasn’t as near as unsettlin’ as what would happen after midnight …

     I awoke again, but not ‘cause of any noise or smell … but ‘cause it was friggin’ cold!  There’s nothin’ worse than a damp cold … and bein’ that we were camped in a swamp … we had to play the cards we were dealt.  I really felt sorry for my son, ‘cause it was my fault we didn’t have our sleepin’ bags.  I had bass fished the last day-and-a-half in shorts and a t-shirt.  How in the Hell did it suddenly decide to get so friggin’ cold?  We each had on silk thermal underwear … both the tops & bottoms, jeans, a t-shirt, a huntin’ shirt, thick socks, huntin’ boots, and heavy jackets with hoods!  There was no wind, and we each had two thick 4’ X 8’ fleece throws; and I ain’t talkin’ them cheesy-ass rags you see at your local sportin’ goods store near the check-out aisles … I’m talkin’ thick-ass, heavy-duty sweat-shirt material.

     I had finally got back to sleep when my son woke me.  “Dad … I gotta pee.” he whispered.  Well, with what-all had already transpired with the coyotes comin’ into camp, and then the mystery animal that reeked of skunk movin’ about … you can’t expect a 14 year-old boy to hike out into the darkness to take a leak.  I unzipped the bivi and walked him to the edge of the slough.  He did his business, and we had just crawled back into the bivis and settled down.  Suddenly … I had to sneeze; I quickly buried my face into the crook of my arm and let go.  Within 5 seconds … we heard a huge splash in the slough behind us.  Now, I’m not talkin’ a beaver slappin’ its tail kind of splash … I’m talkin’ somethin’ penetratin’ the water, like a large rock.  Thing is … there ain’t no rocks out there!  I was now on full alert; we didn’t say a thing … we just sat and listened.  This happened two more times within’ the next hour, and then we must’ve finally fallen asleep.

     The next time I awoke, it was gettin’ first light.  After watchin’ my son finally sleepin’ peacefully … I got up and scouted for tracks or sign around the immediate area of our campsite.  I found nothin’ of any significance … except for coyote tracks.  There was no smell, either.  None of our gear was disturbed, and I made a quick hike to the boat … which was in the same state that we had left it.  While my son slept, I started packin’ gear and made another trip to the boat.  When he awoke, we talked about our night of roughin’ it while I fed him some granola and trail food.  What I needed to do was get him back to the poutin’ house for a hot shower and a proper breakfast.  We scouted some more after we broke camp … and then headed back to Cypress Village.  Thank God the boat ride back was not as cold as what we had endured the night before.  Once we got on Big Cypress, I let him drive so he could hunker behind the windshield …

     When we got back to our friend’s place … they had said that it had got down to 38° the night before!  I’ll never leave the sleepin’ bags again … and I’m sure my son would make damn-sure of that.  We relaxed the rest of the day, and didn’t fish ‘til Wednesday afternoon.  We scouted again mid-day on Thursday, and fished only in the mornin’s and evenin’s.  We left on Saturday, March 20, 2010 … two hours prior to the lake record bass bein’ caught on Caddo Lake.  My buddy called to see how far we had gotten, and told us the news.  We were fishin’ the exact same area where that bucket-mouthed sow was fought just the mornin’ before!  But another cold-front was comin’ in, and as much as I wanted to fish while the barometer started to drop, we had to pack our sh¡t & git ‘fore the weather got nasty.  I ain’t big on highway drivin’ while pullin’ a boat through nasty weather … ‘specially havin’ to drive through Houston!

 

     When I finally got to review my audio from the Olympus, I found that I had captured everything … includin’ the sneeze and the splash, as well as the other two splash incidents and a distant cry I cannot seem to identify.  It doesn’t sound like a coyote or a barred owl.  I’m not goin’ to say that it sounds like somethin’ when I ain’t really sure what it is.  That’s not what I do here … I only try and present evidence, not speculations.  One thing is for sure … I’ll be campin’ out there again!  I’ve already sat out there numerous times for several hours in my boat; say from sunset ‘til 2 or 3:00 a.m., but I haven’t had the luck that my son and I had that cold night in 2010.  As bad as the giant salvinia has gotten this past year, I can no longer get my boat back there … so maybe after huntin’ season is over, I’ll get as far as my boat will carry me … hike-in and do some more campin’.  And when I do, I’ll be sure and post whatever I may or may not encounter.  ‘Til then, y’all take care … and be sure to stay warm this winter!