Comments on: The Nastiest Critters Lurking Outside Your Tent

By: justin

justin — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 11:45:20 +0000

really great Information…..it will help us a lot….
Baby Travel

By: Alastair Bland

Alastair Bland — Mon, 11 Jun 2012 19:39:08 +0000

Hi Liz – Glad you saw a bear. A brown bear (same species as the grizzly) walked into my camp last September in northern Turkey. It gave me quite a fright. I’ve read that being in a tent can provide a sort of psychological barrier against bears that might otherwise paw at a person sleeping in the open. My main reason for sleeping in a tent, though, is the mosquito! Rain is a factor, too.
Cheers. Alastair

By: Liz Larrabee

Liz Larrabee — Fri, 25 May 2012 01:56:26 +0000

The Great Outdoors—er, Outhouse
When the ground shook, I understood why the wimps in aluminum trailers at Yellowstone had been gawking at our canvas shelter. Not more than twenty feet away a huge grizzly had pawed open the sunken trash can, slobbering through two days worth of our travel garbage. We kept our distance. Bear soon sauntered off. At nine o’clock, I tucked my five children into their wobbly cots, mattresses only half filled; our lungs had run out of air.
Then I had foreboding second thoughts. What if some smart-ass grizzly smells yesterday’s jelly on the kids’ day/nightshirts? So I hustled the whole brood out of the tent into the already overflowing station wagon, the poor twins squeezed into six inch balls on the front floor. I plopped my head on the steering wheel with my hand on the ignition key, ready to take off in a flash should our friend return for a midnight snack of ordinary people.
Two AM. My sleepless, jittery anxiety triggered the urge to pee. I eased myself out of the driver’s seat, leaving the door slightly ajar so as not to awaken the kids. They were actually asleep, cramped and dead tired as they were from the day’s hard pursuit of adventure. Under starlit skies I headed for the outhouse across the dirt road.
A few minutes later, when I started out the swinging door, I stopped dead in my tracks. There, in the spotlight of a full moon, sat a big brown you-know-what, sniffing the ground between me and the car. I thanked my lucky stars that the children had moved under a solid roof—O my God, the door’s not closed! I dove back behind the outhouse door but I could see through the crack that Bear could see me through the crack.
While Pooh pondered his alternatives I turned into mush. If I make a run for it, he’ll surely attack, then who’ll drive the kids to Disneyland? I promised! As if I had a choice, I decided to wait it out, worried senseless that Bear may topple the old station wagon. Then what? A frightening dilemma. I stood next to the three-holer, terrified out of my wits, while the monster held his ground. If I run, he eats me up. If I wait—who knows? “Who knows” gave slightly better odds than “eats me up” so I crouched behind the door.
That’s when I saw the next morning’s headlines flash across the broad side of Bear’s carcass. “Mom Gobbled Up by Grizzly in Yellowstone Outhouse.” I concentrated on headlines and my obituary for half an eternity while Bear made like he was dead—on his feet—daring me to make the first move. I cursed him under my breath and stood my ground. He said “Grrr” and stood his ground. Heck, now I’m communicating with an animal!
When the bear turned his head my way, a nasty, intimidating grin on his face, I figured this is it—fight or die. I armed myself with a roll of toilet paper and prepared to bash him on his butt or stuff it up his nostrils. What asinine thoughts cross our minds in a crisis!
As I seriously considered hiding in the three-holer (honest to God) Bear swished his tongue across his drooling jowls, wagged his hind end in my direction, and ambled off. I could hear him sneering, “Hahaha, lady. Almost gotcha!” He disappeared into the darkness, no doubt to frighten some other late night tinkler half to death, sparing me the indignity of being hauled out of an outdoor toilet. I ran lickety-split to my sleeping children.

By: Nina

Nina — Fri, 25 May 2012 00:20:49 +0000

Once, when living in a tent outside of the Masai Mara, Kenya, I got out the baby’s travel basket (I was working for a young couple who had a baby) preparatory to putting the child in it. I removed the sheet and mattress and, curled up underneath, was a spitting cobra…

By: Rog

Rog — Thu, 10 May 2012 13:59:34 +0000

Hey, what about rattlesnakes? A couple of friends of mine were camped out in a double sleeping bag when one of them felt something slither down along side her into the sleeping bag. Speaking very slowly and not moving, she discussed the situation with her companion. After what seemed like hours, they decided that the snake could not bite both of them, so they had to make a move, and the one who escaped would go for a doctor. They counted to three, leaped up and out of the sleeping bag – sure enough, no snake.
But scary, huh?

By: Robert Darnell Sr

Robert Darnell Sr — Wed, 09 May 2012 10:46:29 +0000

It is simply remarkable how many interesting and scary critters exist outside our normal enviroment. Smithsonian provides me w/ just enough insite to stimulate my curriosity into taking a trip. After all, don’t you want to see for yourself?