Speaking of Bears
This story has nothing to do with bears, but nooprah reminded me of a camping tale.
MANY years ago, me, nooprah, and a few other members of our assorted gang went camping. I don't know why-it's not like we were a bunch of nature loving, mountain climbing, dare devil, Eagle Scout bunch of kids or anything. Hanging out was our hobby. But somebody had one of those flashes of brilliance you get when you've been hanging around doing nothing for about five weeks and said "Let's go camping!" Someone else had a car and we found a tent somewhere, so why not?
Anyway, we didn't go to any pussy campground with showers and electrical outlets...we went way into the woods around the White Mountains. To a place where large animals lived. A place where seasoned campers disappeared on a regular basis. I don't think we were very smart.
But we sure were prepared...nooprah brought a suitcase and a pillow, and I brought a whistle.
In the middle of our camping adventure, Barbie (Real Name: Barbie) and I spotted something in the water. We thought it was one of our buddies washing his hair (of COURSE we didn't forget to bring shampoo!), but as we ventured closer we realized it was a dead guy, his body all caught up in the rocks as bits of his broken canoe floated away in the rapids.
So I did what any composed and rational person would do under these types of circumstances-I blew my whistle. It didn't matter that there was NOONE within miles of us except the rest of our camping crew...I blew that whistle anyway, forever, as if somehow it was going to make this poor guy rise from the dead or an entire emergency response team would hear it in the nearest town 30 miles away and say "Listen! Someone's blowing a whistle in the woods! They must've found a dead body! Let's go!!!"
I forgot what happened next, but we eventually managed to contact the authorities. Then we packed up our tent (and nooprah his suitcase) and went home.
Hoagy was not there by the way...I think he couldn't find an appropriate pair of designer hiking boots or something. But boy did WE all learned a lesson on that trip. I'm not really sure what that lesson WAS, but I personally stay in hotels when I go away now.
MANY years ago, me, nooprah, and a few other members of our assorted gang went camping. I don't know why-it's not like we were a bunch of nature loving, mountain climbing, dare devil, Eagle Scout bunch of kids or anything. Hanging out was our hobby. But somebody had one of those flashes of brilliance you get when you've been hanging around doing nothing for about five weeks and said "Let's go camping!" Someone else had a car and we found a tent somewhere, so why not?
Anyway, we didn't go to any pussy campground with showers and electrical outlets...we went way into the woods around the White Mountains. To a place where large animals lived. A place where seasoned campers disappeared on a regular basis. I don't think we were very smart.
But we sure were prepared...nooprah brought a suitcase and a pillow, and I brought a whistle.
In the middle of our camping adventure, Barbie (Real Name: Barbie) and I spotted something in the water. We thought it was one of our buddies washing his hair (of COURSE we didn't forget to bring shampoo!), but as we ventured closer we realized it was a dead guy, his body all caught up in the rocks as bits of his broken canoe floated away in the rapids.
So I did what any composed and rational person would do under these types of circumstances-I blew my whistle. It didn't matter that there was NOONE within miles of us except the rest of our camping crew...I blew that whistle anyway, forever, as if somehow it was going to make this poor guy rise from the dead or an entire emergency response team would hear it in the nearest town 30 miles away and say "Listen! Someone's blowing a whistle in the woods! They must've found a dead body! Let's go!!!"
I forgot what happened next, but we eventually managed to contact the authorities. Then we packed up our tent (and nooprah his suitcase) and went home.
Hoagy was not there by the way...I think he couldn't find an appropriate pair of designer hiking boots or something. But boy did WE all learned a lesson on that trip. I'm not really sure what that lesson WAS, but I personally stay in hotels when I go away now.
posted by Bemisdown at 1:31 PM
12 Comments:
I hope you poked the body with a stick before you called emergency services. You're always supposed to poke bodies with sticks...I think it's to make sure they're actually dead.
Or something.
(I love that you knew someone named "Barbie"!)
Cake...
"Barbie" was perfectly named...in all respects.
And NO WAY was I gonna poke THAT finding with a stick...not to be insensitive or anything, but I know dead when I see dead. The whistle response worked much better for me.
Cake,
But since you brought it up, this is one of my favorite "Barbie" stories.
Back in the Dark Ages, we used to get eye tested at school. We'd all line up and look through some primitive lens and there would be a scene where they would quickly flash an apple on a table.
The Professional Eye Tester would then ask "Did you see the the apple on the table?" And of course, unless we were Stevie Wonder, we'd all say "yes." Pass. Next.
When Barbie's turn came, the Profesional Eye Tester asked "Did you see the apple on the table?"
And Barbie responded "What table?"
Need I say more?
And by the way....
I thought the world of Barbie. She just was who she was.
No fair, I always wanted to find a body!
(I'm not crazy, honestly)
Don't listen to her...she's as crazy as they come.
Nice, but crazy.
Bemisdown:
I think everyone has a Barbie in their past...perfectly nice people who just happen to be a few cards short of a full deck.
I went camping with some folks awhile back...we were a little ways into the woods, far enough that you had to hang your food up in the trees overnight so that the animals couldn't get it.
Well, after a friend and I finished trekking out into the woods, hanging the food, and trekking back (all of which was a huge pain, btw)...we discovered another friend sitting at the campsite eating peanut butter and crackers.
Which animals love. Especially, I dunno, BEARS.
I guess she was our "Barbie." (she didn't come with us again)
If I remember correctly...after finding the dead bloody guy I protected you from his ghost and stuff.
And Wayne.
How would you like a designer hiking boot in the ass?
Stuckwithacomb-Totally depends on the designer-my ass is very particular these matters. (example: if you bought your boots at Payless, the kick someone Else's ass with them)
An nooprah-thank-you for protecting me. Ghosts don't bug me, but Wayne????
Wayne Gretzky? Yeah, he creeps me out too.
Stuck's a little aggressive today, isn't he?
He needs pie.
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