Dave Barry - Dave Barry’s Only Travel Guide You’ll Ever Need

Nature is located mainly in national parks, which are vast tracts of wilderness that have been set aside by the United States government so citizens will always have someplace to go where they can be attacked by bears. And we’re not talking about ordinary civilian bears, either: We’re talking about federal bears, which can behave however they want to because they are protected by the same union as postal clerks.

You also want to be on the lookout for federal moose. I had a moose encounter once, when my wife and I were camping in Yellowstone National Park, which is popular with nature lovers because it has dangerous geysers of super-heated steam that come shooting up out of the ground, exactly like in New York City, except that the Yellowstone geysers operate on a schedule. Anyway, one morning I woke up and went outside to savor the dawn’s ever-changing subtle beauty, by which I mean take a leak, and there, maybe fifteen feet away, was an animal approximately the size of the Western Hemisphere and shaped like a horse with a severe steroid problem. It pretended to be peacefully eating moss, but this was clearly a clever ruse designed to lull me into believing that it was a gentle, moss-eating creature. Obviously no creature gets to be that large by eating moss. A creature gets to be that large by stomping other creatures to death with its giant hooves. Clearly what it wanted me to do was approach it, so it could convert me into a wilderness pizza while bellowing triumphant moss-breath bellows into the morning air. Fortunately I am an experienced woodsperson, so I had the presence of mind to follow the Recommended Wilderness Moose-Encounter Procedure, which was to get in the car and indicate to my wife, via a system of coded horn-honks, that she was to pack up all our equipment and put it in the car trunk, and then get in the trunk herself, so that I would not have to open the actual door until we had relocated to a safer area, such as Ohio.

This chilling story is yet another reminder of the importance of:

Selecting the proper campsite can mean the difference between survival and death in the wilderness, so you, the woodsperson, must always scrutinize the terrain carefully to make sure that it can provide you with the basic necessities, the main one being a metal thing that sticks out of the ground where you hook up the air conditioner on your recreational vehicle. I’m assuming here that you have a recreational vehicle, which has been the preferred mode of camping in America ever since the early pioneers traveled westward in primitive, oxen-drawn Winnebagos—Of course there are some thoughtful, environmentally sensitive ecology nuts who prefer to camp in tents, which are fine except for four things:

1. All tent-erection instructions are written by the internal Revenue Service

(“Insert ferrule post into whippet grommet, or 23 percent of your gross deductible adjustables, which-ever is more difficult”).

2. It always rains on tents. Rainstorms will travel thousands of miles against the prevailing winds for the opportunity to rain on a tent, which is bad because:

3. Tents contain mildews, which are tiny one-celled animals that are activated by moisture and immediately start committing one-celled acts of flatulence, so that before long it smells like you’re sleeping in a giant unwashed gym sock.

4. Tents are highly attractive to bears. When bears are young, their parents give them, as a treat, little camper-shaped candies in little tent wrappers.

So I’m recommending a major recreational vehicle, the kind that has a VCR-equipped recreation room and consumes the annual energy output of Syria merely to operate the windshield wipers. Other wilderness survival equipment that you should always take along includes:

A hatchet, in case you need to fix the VCR Cheez-Its A flashlight last used in 1973, with what appears to be penicillin mold growing on the batteries

And speaking of penicillin, you need to know:

Experts agree that the most important rule in a wilderness medical emergency is: Keep your head down on the follow-through. No! My mistake! That’s the most important rule in golf. The most important rule in a wilderness medical emergency is: Don’t panic. To prevent the victim from going into shock, you must reassure him, as calmly as possible, that everything’s going to be fine:

VICTIM (clearly frightened): Am I going to be okay?

YOU (in a soothing voice): Of course you are! I’m sure we’ll find your legs around here some place!

VICTIM (relieved): Whew! You got any Cheez-Its?

Once the victim has been calmed, you need to obtain pertinent information by asking the following Standard Medical Questions:

1. Does he have medical insurance?

2. Does his spouse have medical insurance?

3. Was he referred to this wilderness by another doctor?

4. How much does he weigh?

5. Does that figure include legs?

Write this information down on a medical chart, then give the victim a 1986 copy of Fortune magazine to read while you decide on the correct course of treatment. This will depend on the exact nature of the injury. For example, if it’s mushroom poisoning or a broken limb, you’ll need to apply a tourniquet. Whereas if it’s a snake bite, then you need to determine whether the snake was poisonous, which will be indicated by tiny markings on the snake’s Stomach as follows:

WARNING! POISON SNAKE!

ACHTUNG! SCHLANGE SCHNAPPENKILLEN!

In this case, you need to apply a tourniquet to the snake.

There are so many fun things for a family to do together in the wilderness that I hardly know where to start. One proven barrel of wilderness laughs is to try to identify specific kinds of trees by looking at the bark, leaves, federal identification plaques, etc. This activity is bound to provide many seconds of enjoyment for the youngsters. (“This one’s an oak!” “No it’s not!” “You suck!”) Later on, you can play Survival Adventure, where the children, using only a compass and a map, must try to figure out what city Mom and Dad have driven to.

But the greatest camping fun comes at night, when everybody gathers around the campfire and sings campfire songs. Some of our “old family favorites” include:

I’ve Been Workin’ on the Railroad

Oh, I’ve been workin’ on the railroad,

With a banjo on my knee.

We will kill the old red rooster

We will kill the old red rooster

We will kill the old red rooster

And you better not get in our way.

Michael Row the Boat Ashore

Michael row the boat ashore, Alleluia!

Michael row the boat ashore, Alleluia!

Michael row the damn boat ashore, Alleluia!

Lenore threw up in the tackle box.

Camptown Races

Camptown ladies sing this song: Doo-dah, doo-dah

Camptown ladies been off their medication

And they are none too fond of the old red rooster, either.

After the singing, it’s time for Dad to prepare the children for bedtime by telling them a traditional campfire story. To qualify as traditional, the story has to adhere to the following guidelines, established by the National Park Service:

1. It has to begin Many Years Ago when some people camped Right in This Very Forest on a night Exactly Like Tonight.

2. People warned them not to camp here, but they paid no attention.

3. People said, “I wouldn’t go back in there if I were you! That’s the lair of the [select one]: