Public lands are for everyone to enjoy.....right? Fact is off course, the public consists of all kinds of different people. Some have respect for others, while others could care less. I've found over the years, that it's getting harder and harder to find an accessible spot to camp on these lands, where there ain't nobody, in my home state of NY. In my 35 + yrs camping, I've mostly run into great and interesting folks while out on these lands..... and there were times, that I didn't run into a sole.
The lack of born common sense in some of the younger folks, can sometimes astound me. Yes, I was young and did some dumb stuff...but there was a cutoff point, that usually involved my self preservation instincts.
In 2008, myself and camp partner Floodman (yes, him again) found ourselves at the end of a rugged dirt road on state lands, not far from the PA border. There was a very large circle turn around at the end of the road, with a stunning view of the south, with the valley and distant hills in view. We both agreed...this is us, till tomorrow. We had purposely set up way off the circle, on the edge of pine forest, and parked my vehicle well off the road...after we noticed a large fire pit with empty beer bottles in the middle of the circle. There was easily room for several other groups of campers to enjoy there...without ever bothering each other. We pitched our tents back even farther, and had a fire about 100 ft. off a small trail that went down into the valley. After a long day and quiet evening, we turned in at around 1AM. Shortly after, we heard the steady bass beats of a loud car stereo that gradually made it's way up the hills and into the turn around circle...we had company. It was Sat. night, so we knew this was possible, even in October. We had radio contact between our tents, and decided that Floodman would stay in camp...and I would be out in the woods a ways, in between our camp and the vehicle, until we saw what was going on. We were both armed, as this is legal on state lands (not in state parks) .
We were astounded, as one young guy got out of the vehicle (with another a distance behind) after seeing my vehicle parked off road...and brazenly walked right up to it...knocking on the glass, and looking in the windows. He did not realize how close I was to him. The pin was pulled on my pepper spray, as a watched him continue to pound on the glass. He yelled to the other youngster "who's crate is this ?", and that's when I softly spoke from behind him in the trees and said "Why, it's mine". He jumped back all wide eyed, and walked quickly back to the small car, still blaring music...and had a chat with the others. The music suddenly stopped, and a different guy (maybe the other one trailing , from before) walked back up, and spotted Floodman standing by the dying fire. I followed from behind, under cover. He said to Floodman..."we heard there's a keg up here...so where's the party?" Floodman's reply was "we're not it...and did you happen to notice we are here, camping?". The guy turned around and shook his head, and walked back to the small car...which after a brief discussion, the car took off with rap music blaring, out of the lands. An hour later, not one...but four cars came back. We were ready...hoping for the best, but prepared for the worse. Two of the cars emptied out, while a small group of guys and gals stood around the fire pit...while 3 guys made there way down the trail (in the dark with one small flashlight) that was closer to Floodman's tent, but not directly into our camp. They walked past the camp, and further down into the valley, and then walked back...being watched by us every step of the way. When the group had reached a footpath that was directly opposite Floodman's tent...one of the bozos (obviously tanked) came right down the path at Floodman's tent, after he saw the fire pit and embers of the fire. I've known Floodman since we were kids, but during those moments.... I was concerned. We both yelled out "Hey.... we're camping here" He stopped for a moment, but then proceded again. That's when I heard Floodman cock his rifle and put a round into the chamber (mine was already ready) . The guy stopped, and put his hands on his head like he was frustrated, and turned around. One of the guys at the trail said "Dude! get back here...didn't you hear them..... your gonna get yourself shot". Any good country boy (even the drunk ones) know the sounds of a rifle action.
The two guys walked in very slowly, and escorted the drunk back to the trail, and down to the circle fire pit, where the others were standing. There was more discussion, with one of the drunk girls yelling "this is our spot, and it always has been". They eventually assembled in the cars , and all drove away. Thing was....we never were against sharing the location...even with the likes of them...although we were hoping for some quieter, and saner folks . We all had the same right to be there. On my worst and craziest night as a youth...I would never walk into someone's camp at night....never.... ever. We had the feeling that they would not be back, and that we were well within our rights, and did not provoke any further confrontation. I was pretty happy with the way Floodman conducted himself, as the front man. As hyped up as we were then, we couldn't sleep for a while, and stoked up the fire, and talked about things for a while, and cooked up some foot longs. I did a set of wood knocks right before we finally turned in for the night (must have been 3AM). It was that early morning, just after sunup...that I was awaken by the sound of loud and crazy squaking Blue Jays in the trees above me. I was very tired, so I switched on the recorder (still on standby), listened, but fell asleep soon after. The recording, turned out to contain many single and double wood knocks, that brought me back to the same location, several times after. That recording can be heard at this link:
http://soundcloud.com/imonacan/bjays-chkdee-woodknocks
I got a reply to my wood knocks, on the last outing...and plan to continue to investigate that location. I guess, it's possible.... that the real hosts of this public land, could have been watching me... watch Floodman....watch the drunken youths. Now that would be.............. some real strangeness.
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