Solo Camping Night

My nearly two dozen hiking and camping trips in the mountains, forests, valleys and lakes in Harriman State Park, 47,527 acres (with 200 miles of trails) in upstate New York (about 50 miles north of NYC), had usually been with one or two friends. However, at least four or five times I went into the wilderness alone. My friend Joe had done it many times so why couldn't I do it as well? I had my own tent and I had driven my car up to the area during several recent years. I had become comfortable with it all, and often exhilarated by the beauty and silence of the outdoors and the extreme contrast with the city.

I didn't fully realize it, but I was still the somewhat naïve, quintessential city guy with no real expertise in handling anything that might happen where no one knew where I was and where I would never be found. I had such confidence because nothing bad had ever happened on my previous trips, despite once encountering a rattlesnake on a hike with Joe (and a coworker, Bob).

In the past, I had never had an encounter with bears, mountain lions or similarly serious animals. The biggest worry had been ticks and Lyme disease, against which I had armed myself with the necessary cans of spray for protection. I kept food in plastic containers to prevent their odors from being easily detectable by curious or hungry animals like raccoons (recommended but not a foolproof solution).

This time I drove to a new spot, hiked through the forest and found a spot by one of the lakes where I set up a tent, built a fire, heated something to eat and drank a few beers, still fearless that as in the past, nothing would occur. I simply wanted to get away from the city alone to think about life and about my own life, as a loner who needed to get away from the world for a night. Later, I went to sleep.

In the middle of the night, something strange happened. I woke up, groggy from the beer, because I heard a noise or noises. I couldn't tell what the sound represented. My sixth sense told me that it was an animal. But it was unexpected. Something was outside my tent. I became concerned, maybe even alarmed. I decided not to directly confront the source who I knew couldn't see through the tent and therefore didn't know exactly what they were up against, either. Instead, I made some odd noises of my own. Somewhat aggressively, I pounded on the ground and made my presence known.

Within a short while, whatever made the noise went away. But I never forgot the lesson. I had no weapons and was defenseless against anything that wanted to attack. I was lucky that the mysterious entity left.

I went back to sleep and the next morning I packed up my gear, hiked back to my car and drove back to the city. My adventure, born of several previously uneventful trips. had taught me something new. I was no longer unaware of the potential dangers. Not long after, my solo hikes and camping trips ended.