Wild Camping In Slovakia: The Night Of The Horny Cow

Rather than let the blog go dormant while we wait out Berlin’s long winter we decided to move to Unleash some of our posts from our old blog. When Emma-Justine sleeps Ill move the entire lot over. Until then enjoy the story of one of the few times we had problems while wild camping. This episode took place while wild camping somewhere in Slovakia.

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We all know that a women should be listened to, as we are almost always right. ;-) Well in this case it was the absolute truth. I have a strong belief in my intuition. Whenever I have ignored it in the past it has returned only to bite me on the ass. In the case of this night I just had a weird feeling about camping wild. It was the first night we had a chance to camp wild thus far on the trip. So I honestly thought that perhaps I was blowing things out of proportion. The first place we looked at just felt bad. So we continued on. The second place Patrick checked out on foot and declared perfect. To the point where he was willing to drive Jacqueline up a cliff that stood at a 90 degree angle – a tiny dirt path cluttered with potholes, small boulders, and other potential deaths to the motorcyclist. I had to walk, as he was sure should I be on the back neither he, me, nor the motorcycle would make it back out.

Once at the top it was as perfect as he had said it would be. A field in an open clearing, surrounded by forest in the Tatar mountains, and a view that promised a spectacular sunset and sunrise. Exactly what we searched for when we camp wild. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. I decided to chalk it up to the fact I had not camped wild in over a year, and that was messing with my feelings.

Up goes the tent, out comes the food. I had no sooner torn open my chocolate bar when Patrick declares “I hope there are no bears here.” He had no sooner declared it when we heard a snort, a pant and a growl. My insides liquefied and my stomach slid into my shoes. “Oh FUCK Its a BEAR!” and I jump up and almost crying I beg him to go. Patrick on the other hand is insistent its not. “Maybe its just a mad or horny cow.”

Yes Patrick, in the middle of the woods in the Tatar mountains, prime bear country and making noises that a cow with rabies wouldn’t make. When he snorts and snuffs again and I cry BEAR BEAR BEAR and Patrick wound up and let the food bag fly.

I then want to pack up and get the fuck out of dodge. Patrick however is thinking that maybe now the bear wont come back. Why waste such a wonderful camping spot. I am Canadian. Terror stories of bears that used tents as trampolines (be these stories true or not) are enough to make me say SCREW that. My description of a mauling by a bear and my tearful insistence that we leave NOW and leave everything we had as well had Patrick almost convinced. That we then hear the bear growl and snort on its way back to devour us pushed him over the edge and he immediately revs up the bike engine to scare our unwelcome predator away.

That was the fastest time we have ever broke camp.

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Sherrie

About Sherrie

Sherrie was born and raised in Newfoundland, has her home base in Germany, and at any given time can be found just about anywhere in the world. Addicted to books, travel, chocolate and motorcycles, a perfect day for her is riding her bike followed by drinking good coffee and reading a good book or writing one.

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