Canoe Tripping Nightmare

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The recurring threads about how screwed up the forum software has become are giving me nightmares.

Last night I dreamt that I was tripping in the north country when, late at night, a ravenous bear attacked my tied-to-a-tree food barrel. Unzipping my Hilleberg Tarra tent, which cost more than the first car I bought, I clambered out, grabbing the bear spray and Gransfors Bruk to confront the beast, only to fall headlong into the wag bag toilet when my Bean boot caught on my innie groundcloth.

The bear, not satiated with my dehydrated Mountain House granola with milk and blueberries, charged with a roar. Fortunately Precious, my canine canoeing companion, a vicious Pomeranian Chihuahua mix, sprang to my defense, nipping savagely, a trait she had practiced on tripping companions who dared approach my beer cooler. Atta girl Precious, good girl.

Fumbling with the bear spray in the dark I tripped over a Bud Light can on the ground and managed only to squirt it on my fingers, then rub my eyes, and (don’t ask) grab my pecker in fright.

Rolling around in blinded anguish and burning member the bear was upon me before I could react, and I grabbed the thing nearest at hand, my grandpa’s cold handle fry pan. Fangs mere inches from my face I clonked the beast over the head, but that only momentarily stunned him.

Thinking fast, I rubbed the worn leather straps of my Duluth pack in my stinky armpits, and cast the pack in his path as an odoriferous distraction. That seemed only to further piss him off, as it would anyone in close proximity to my pit stank and aged sweaty leather,

Glancing about in desperation I saw the remains of my cowboy coffee and, hurling that gritty soup into the bear’s eyes, made my escape scurrying towards the shoreline.

Blinking out the Kopi Luwak irritant Mr americanus chased me down to the water’s edge. Fortunately I had installed Dynel skid plates on my Sun Dolphin kayak and - thank gawd it was a plastic boat, not some fragile wood canvas thing - after smashing him repeatedly over the head with the stem of the kayak I was at last able to grab my trusty double blade and finish him off.

In that nightmare I arose the next morning to find I had beaten a young raccoon to a pulp. But it was still a cage match to the death.

What, if anything, should I have dreamt differently?

(Tonight I hope to dream of trips in my twenties with comely girlfriends. Thanks, I don’t need any help there).
 
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The recurring threads about how screwed up the forum software has become are giving me nightmares.

Last night I dreamt that I was tripping in the north country when, late at night, a ravenous bear attacked my tied-to-a-tree food barrel. Unzipping my Hilleberg Tarra tent, which cost more than the first car I bought, I clambered out, grabbing the bear spray and Gransfors Bruk to confront the beast, only to fall headlong into the wag bag toilet when my Bean boot caught on my innie groundcloth.

The bear, not satiated with my dehydrated Mountain House granola with milk and blueberries, charged with a roar. Fortunately Precious, my canine canoeing companion, a vicious Pomeranian Chihuahua mix, sprang to my defense, nipping savagely, a trait she had practiced on tripping companions who dared approach my beer cooler. Atta girl Precious, good girl.

Fumbling with the bear spray in the dark I tripped over a Bud Light can on the ground and managed only to squirt it on my fingers, then rub my eyes, and (don’t ask) grab my pecker in fright.

Rolling around in blinded anguish and burning member the bear was upon me before I could react, and I grabbed the thing nearest at hand, my grandpa’s cold handle fry pan. Fangs mere inches from my face I clonked the beast over the head, but that only momentarily stunned him.

Thinking fast, I rubbed the worn leather straps of my Duluth pack in my stinky armpits, and cast the pack in his path as an odoriferous distraction. That seemed only to further piss him off, as it would anyone in close proximity to my pit stank and aged sweaty leather,

Glancing about in desperation I saw the remains of my cowboy coffee and, hurling that gritty soup into the bear’s eyes, made my escape scurrying towards the shoreline.

Blinking out the Kopi Luwak irritant Mr americanus chased me down to the water’s edge. Fortunately I had installed Dynel skid plates on my Sun Dolphin kayak and - thank gawd it was a plastic boat, not some fragile wood canvas thing - after smashing him repeatedly over the head with the stem of the kayak I was at last able to grab my trusty double blade and finish him off.

In that nightmare I arose the next morning to find I had beaten a young raccoon to a pulp. But it was still a cage match to the death.

What, if anything, should I have dreamt differently?

(Tonight I hope to dream of trips in my twenties with comely girlfriends. Thanks, I don’t need any help there).

And what did you eat beforehand to fuel your nightmare? Time to revise the diet?
 
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And we're talking about any kind of Bud and beer in the same conversation..... why?

Mike, given that Rosie never met a bear (or likely never dreamt of a bear) she didn't want to dance with she'd likely get along fine with Precious. But if they tag-team a bear you get to explain any new scuffs or scars to Nancy while I wait on the other side of our mountain.


Lance
 
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It must have been the Dud Light. It couldn’t have been the Chuck Wagon Turkey Good ‘n Hearty, with an appetizer of baked beans, spooned cold from the can.

I have found that if I drink nothing but Guinness and eat nothing but enhanced brownies for 3 straight days I will have pleasant (if vivid) dreams, and can stay up late enough to be “Last man standing” at least one night.

YMMV
 
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All the product placement there makes me wonder whether the cooler was a Yeti or an Rtic. Also you left out the name of your pecker.
 
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The ingestion of large quantities of seafood can cause very unusual dreams. It is mostly the iodine.

The yeast in some craft beers and sulfites in wine can do the same thing.
So can psychedelic mushrooms.
 

Glenn MacGrady

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The recurring threads about how screwed up the forum software has become are giving me nightmares.

Well, Mike, those recurring threads have disappeared and the forum software has completely changed. Glad we here at CTN could solve the root cause of your nightmares. Neither doctors nor Big Pharma could have done that.

You will, of course, now give up beer, stout, Chuck Wagon vittles, baked beans and enhanced brownies. Amirite?
 
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Modern weed is really strong. I can barely talk.

We were on a week long trip on the lower Colorado River in Feb. We had some wind and had a party because the next day we would not be traveling. My brother made a beautiful lasagna. A friend brought some homemade brownies cut in small pieces with THC. I had a half of a small one. I could not talk and felt sick. The lasagna ended up on the ground. I was up most of the night. I cannot do edibles. On the other hand I have been a DeadHead for 50 years. Mushrooms do not give me trouble.
 
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