True confessions - They're funny cuz they're true.

I remember when I first started getting into hiking I took a day off from work and took a solo hike up Monadnock. It was a beautiful April day, and being a Tuesday afternoon, I even got the summit to myself for almost 20 minutes.

In my confidence I soon went off trail and did a hairy bushwack down some thick brush that I suspect hadn't seen a living animal or person in years. I took a slide down 20 feet to an even uglier 'cant turn back' prospect of rock climbing.

I got myself together, sat there and prayed.

"God, if I must die on a mountain... PLEASE don't let it be MONADNOCK!"

I'll admit to this only because there are later witnesses...

My first solo tent overnight, trying to do everything just right, deciding to lash the tent to the platform before hiking to the summit because of the wind...

Sawing at that rope, wondering why my nice, new, very sharp multi-tool hasn't sliced through...

Looking down and discovering that I had the knife blade backward and had sliced my index finger down to the knuckle bone.

Way to go, Woodswoman....

Peri -- I have a similar story, believe it or not -- from my first solo backpacking trip! I was attempting to pry the cap off my brandy new fuel cannister with a mondo swiss army knife. I slipped and jammed the knife through my hand between my thumb and first finger. It bled so much I ended up duct-taping my hand to hike out five miles the next morning. My dr. said it could have used stitches but I waited too long to come in. I thought I would never convince my family that I could handle hiking solo again.

Also, I switched to using an alcohol stove from then on and got rid of the huge knife.

- Ivy

Where to start.... I'm such a klutz...

One of the best has to be during a solo hike in VT back in the 80's. (completely solo, not even a dog). It was through a swampy area with many puncheons which were very slippery due to rain and fog. It was a multi-day trip, so I was carrying 45+ pounds in my old external frame Kelty. I'm walking along, step from one puncheon to the next, somehow spin around and end up face down. My neck was over the edge of the puncheon and my pack had shifted toward my head, pressing my neck into the puncheon so that I couldn't breathe. I remember thinking, what a stupid way to die! To this day, I can't remember how I got the pack shifted enough to get up.

Up at Crag Camp this past summer, after climbing Adams and resting up before the next day's adventure, I was making fresh lemonade. The knife went through the lemon and through my finger. Blood everywhere. And then the shock wore off ... I'd been cutting a lemon, you see. My word, that freakin' hurt!

Oh, and missing the 120° turn at the water crossing on the Carter Dome Trail in light November snow, following someone's footsteps straight up the ravine, eventually seeing them peter out, pushing myself through brush for another 15 minutes, and finally saying "This trail sucks! It's not even blazed ... oh .... right ... um ... this isn't the trail, is it?"

Later that day I met the creator of the other footsteps, so I didn't feel too bad.

I didn't do it. It wasn't me. If anyone says I did, he's a liar.

Humiliation cuts like a knife too doesn't it?

I remember when I first got my leatherman tool. I carried it around with a that special pride of ownership reserved for gear junkies - looking for an opportunity to save the day with one of its many clever uses.

On one of these glorious occasions, the tool worked so admirably that it drew the "oohs" and "ahhhs" of its astonished onlookers. "Wow! That IS sharp!"

"Well", I replied confidently as I was folding it back up, "You really gotta be careful with it..."

SWISH! The arc of the closing blade met the fleshy tip of my finger and made a surgically clean cut through 90% of the meat leaving the fingertip flipped back over the nail. It was one of those cuts so quick that you see it before you feel it. Then, while staring is disbelief, the pain alarm went off.

You wouldn't have thought there could be that much blood in there. My hosts were scrambling around for bandages as I stood bleeding into their sink, all the time trying to downplay the pain because I already felt like a complete ass. "'Tis nothing. 'Tis just a flesh wound"

A well-sharpened blade, given enough time, will teach you to respect it.

Probably my biggest goof was backpacking without my tent poles. I totally forgot them. Worse, it was the first time I took a new girl friend backpacking. I found a very sheltered, forested spot and rigged up the tent with extra rope and some stray branches I found on the ground. I had to skimp a little on rope for my bear bag, but fortunately it was only a two day trip. She married me anyway.

Without going into too much detail, I'll just say that I now always make sure I'm wearing well-insulated, windproof pants on exposed peaks after summiting Mt. Madison in sub-zero windchills last November. I was afraid I'd never father a child after that incident.

Well, I guess these do fall into the "They're funny cuz they're true" category. I'm sitting here laughing my butt off -- probably more because misery loves company or some such thing!

I can laugh at my own stupidity now, but my knuckle still aches in the cold. I probably could have used a few stitches too, Ivy, but made do with duct tape butterflies and a wad of gauze. If for nothing else, I finally got to use my first aid kit for something other than blisters! And prove that I could take care of myself in the woods -- I hiked over Liberty and Flume and spent the night after bandaging my finger.

I ice climb in carhartts on the side of highways.

First real backpacking trip. There we were struggling to reach the cabin on Cabot,with our rented backpacks,fully supplied with cans of beef stew,and a gigantic 9v flashlight(those huge square battery jobs!)
I'm amazed that we survived..
I'm more amazed that we're still at it!

KayakDan said:

a gigantic 9v flashlight(those huge square battery jobs!)

Click to expand...

Would have been 6V. But still rather heavy...

Doug

Once on a college backpacking trip I was given a list of stuff to bring. Flip flops were recommended as camp shoes, and though I normally wore tevas in camp, I went by the list. I soon discovered what a pain it was trying to walk on pine needles with flips flops and decided barefoot was better.

All was well until dusk fell, we finished our lessons, and started to rock hop across the stream to our tents. In the diminished light I mistook a thick layer of pollen for the top of a rock and stepped down hard on the sharp stones of the stream bottom. I knew I was bleeding, but when I saw how bad my toes were sliced, I had to bite the bullet and tell the trip leader. As I 'd guessed, she was none to happy with me as this was the first night of a seven day trip.

Fortunately her boyfriend was an EMT and they stopped the bleeding and got the thing bandaged. I was horrified when they started talking about his new stapler, and how it was too bad he hadn't brought it - I was glad!

She wanted to send me home for stitches the next day, but we convinced her that it was too late for that, so I finished the trip.

forgive me father for I have sinned

I haven't been a "frequent hiker" all that long, but so far the stupidest thing I've done was to accidentally walk back the way I came. After stopping at a lookout on the Mink Hollow Trail in the Catskills I got back on the wrong side of the trail, which did a hairpin turn right where I had gotten off. It's not much ascent or descent either way, and I went for about 30-40 minutes before finally realizing what I had done. I ended up bagging one less peak that day due to the extra time, energy, water and sunlight I had used up.
Since then I've tried to pay more attention to terrain, etc.
I also accidentally bushwhacked Hunter Mt. instead of SW Hunter, long story...

Matt

testosterone overload

I was taking a date on a short hike, when we came to a small gorge. It was aprox. 5 ft span, below the span it fell aprox 20 ft down a cascade into a shallow pool. I guess I liked her and wanted to impress her for some dumb reason, so I said " watch this" I got a running start and jumped the gorge, now this was a great jump easiely clearing the 5ft, problem was the other side was 1 inch of moss over a rock slab. I hit that moss and my feet flew right out from under me, I rolled back and fell into the gorge bouncing like a pinball, somehow ending up with one foot and one hand on each side of the walls, I had know choice but to plunge into the pool below, swim to shore then climb back up. I arrived back on top, looking like Id just emerged from well a fall down a gorge. she was shaking her head saying "do you always do things like this?" I said " of coarse i do IM a mountain man" we then continued our hike.

LMAO @ Sierra! That is rich! So, did you get a second date?

Darwin award.

25 odd years ago I worked for the Château Lake Louise in Alberta. 2 buddies and myself went hiking in the Bow River, which drains all the valleys in that area and is broad and swift. It is principally glacier fed which gives you an idea of its temperature. When I say we went hiking in the river I mean IN the river. This was a lot of fun thanks to the strong current that swept us downstream. The river’s depth was variable and quickly alternated back and forth between knee deep to over our heads.

Prior to jumping into the river we had collected all kinds of interesting rocks which we planned on using to decorate our rooms in the staff residence. My daypack was loaded down with these rocks and as the water got deeper and deeper my pack started to pull me under. At one point I was flowing downstream with my neck bent as far back as it would go and just my mouth breaking surface struggling to keep afloat. It was at that moment that I realized the stupidity of my situation. Fortunately, before I jetisoned the pack, the river grew shallower and my feet touched bottom. I went over to the bank and dumped all the rocks out of my pack before continuing the "hike". To this day, whenever I get together with either of those 2 buddies they invariably get around to…remember the time Neil you swam down the Bow River with a packsack full of rocks?

okay, i admit...

Have you ever wiped your butt with poison ivy? I'm afraid to admit I have.

Twice.

The first time wasn't that bad, so I guess I didn't really learn my lesson. I'm a distance runner during the week and a hiker on the weekends whenever I'm not racing. Anyway, back in my college days, it wouldn't be uncommon for me to make a pit stop in the woods during a training run about twice per week. It isn't always convenient or nature-friendly to carry TP with me, so I have learned which leaves are good and which aren't so good to wipe with. Dry Oak leaves are good, followed by green Oak or Maple leaves. Well, one time, I must have mistaken some poison ivy for low-lying Maple sapling leaves and, well, you know...

The first 24 hours wasn't bad but the following night I started to itch. Bad. It got so bad that I absolutely couldn't sleep. No matter how hard I resisted, I had to keep itching my butt. I took showers, applied Calamine lotion, tried to ice it numb... no luck. So I swallowed my pride and went to the local hospital ER at 4 AM with what I presume to be the strangest ER excuse ever - persistently itchybutt.

Well, much to my 23 yr old male psyche's chagrin, I was greeted by a reasonably attractive female doctor of about 30 years of age. She tells me to roll over on my stomach and takes a good look between my butt cheeks. Then, she orders some tests done. I asked what she needed tests for, and imagine how aghast I was when she told me she was testing for Herpes! I then proceeded to frantically explain that I don't GO that way and there was NO WAY I could have contracted Herpes!! The tests came back negative and I left with some nice steroids and I'll forever be embarassed about the experience.

Oh my God, Albee! I think you've won, hands down.