December 7-8, 2012
Friday after work and we had no plans. What better way to enjoy the evening than to take a stroll up into the Canyon and spend the night in the woods!
The hike up to camp went fast–it’s only 2 miles…. Once we arrived, there was only one other party of two. Within an hour, a group of Boy Scouts could be heard singing from a distance. They arrived in camp and quickly set up, making minimal noise. Amber, James and I made a small fire after dinner with the damp wood laying around the hills surround camp. A mist developed in the air, muting the voices of fellow campers.
Later that night, we could hear a group of men dropping in from the Upper Trail. They were loud and somewhat obnoxious. Before they arrived, we took our backpacks and set them up in the camp right next to us along with any other left over equipment we had. We knew there were another five campsites left and did not want to share the one site next to ours with a group of boisterous campers.
It was now about 7PM, and sure enough, they marched in with all their laughing and clanking, paying no attention to other campers. They took a hard right turn right toward our little camp.
We like to camp small with minimum viability and attention to others. That night was wet, so we put up the tarp, and enjoyed our little fire. Apparently the group of four didn’t see our camp and began setting up two sites over. Two of the guys walked over to the site between ours and yelled to the others, “Hey! I think someone else is using this site…!”
Our plan worked, but for only a while. As soon as their packs were off, we heard the beer cans opening up with great frequency. An hour later and they were drunk.
We went to bed and tried to ignore the laughing and yelling but by 1:30am, I had had enough. With thoughts of… well, I won’t go there, I walked over to the guys and and had a nice conversation.
“Hey guys,” I said with a cracked voice (i just woke up).
“It sounds like you guys are having a good time,” I said in a nice tone.
“Want a beer?” offered one guy about 25 in a plaid wool button-up coat.
“No thanks,” I said. “The reason I stopped by is that we are sleeping about 30 feet from you all, and there is a Boy Scout troop another stone’s throw, and yet another couple who I noticed went to bed about six hours ago.”
The guys all apologized.
“I don’t know if you realize but your voices carry in this canyon making it tough if not impossible to sleep,” I suggested.
“Oh, man! We are really sorry–we will put out the fire and go to bed,” one guy said while putting his beer on a rock.
One of the other guys explained that their buddy, the one who put the beer down, was going back to Afghanistan in two days and they were having their last get-together.
I was offered another beer before I walked back to bed. They hardly made another sound the rest of the night.
Morning after a wet night
The next morning we woke, took down camp and were on the trail before any of the guys were up.
As it turns out, they were all United States Marines. I should have accepted the beer offer and toasted to their service.
It pays to be courteous.