At a scout campout we put some fresh cow flop is the troop bully’s hand while he was sleeping. The plan was to tickle his nose so he’d unconsciously smear it all over his face, but we got the giggles and he woke up. I was scared all night that he’d beat the crap out of me. He’d did.
Camping on Toledo Bend when I was about 23 or so, we had a tent my parents made from 2 army pup tens, with mosquito netting that hung down the sides, side would also roll down for cold weather.
It was cold weather. Tent closed up, old red single mantle Coleman lantern going for light, somehow it caught on fire inside the tent. I destroyed a sleeping bag trying to put it out, my father finally threw it outside on the ground and got it put out.
Another trip we went out fishing on the lake, sudden storm rolled in. About a mile from camp, started the outboard and headed that way. got just in sight of camp and the weather hit us, storming like crazy, I could see my mother on the bank waving and screaming. Couldn’t hear of course. Serious waves, pouring rain, lots of wind...
We got back without mishaps, my mother told us when the boat went down into the troughs of the waves it would go completely out of sight. This was a 16’ Glastron V bottom made in the early 60’s, pretty deep one.
About age 15 we went to a lake in central Lousiana and my father and I decided we would float along and hunt squirrels just off the bank. Just enough breeze to float the boat along, all he had to do was steer now and then with the paddle. We had 2 shotguns, a paddle and 2 life jackets, that’s it. I floated into a briar path, we got out of it, floated along some more.
A few minutes later I thought I had floated into another, reached up to pull the briar vine off my neck, nothing there. Turned and looked, we weren’t looking and floated into a red wasp nest bigger than a dinner plate. Over a foot in diameter and they were MAD...I started paddling with my shotgun...
Got back to the bank...never had the presence of mind to just jump in the water...got back to camp and started counting. I stopped counting at 56 wasp stings. Face, arms, legs, back, chest, the damn things went all the way up my pants legs to my knees.
Sick the next day but made it through OK and had no serious problems. No I don’t hate wasps, they’re just a nuisance I have to deal with, I get stung a couple of times every summer. Doesn’t bother me much after that though...
Then there were any of a half dozen times I almost stepped on water moccasins...or copperheads...I do hate those little bastards...