GLASGOW — Summer is officially over and we can all look forward to fall.

Of course, judging by the heat and humidity, it’s going to be a hot start to the season, as is customary here in Kentucky.

If you’ll recall in my column two weeks ago, I asked for stories about your worst vacations. During my vacation last week, my inbox was filled with an earth-shattering one response!

Thankfully, this tale told by “Bob” was quite a doozie. Now, as promised, I’m going to share it with you.



“In the early 1960s, my wife and I, along with our three daughters, lived in southern California. Because money was very scarce, we couldn’t afford fancy vacations, so I had purchased an old camping tent and some auxiliary equipment. The tent alone must have weighed about 120 pounds.

“For the first two years, we camped at a mountain lake in northern California and it was just beautiful. In 1964, we decided a change of scenery would be nice, so we decided to camp in Oak Creek Canyon in Arizona. We pitched our tent alongside the creek and it started to rain and turn very cool. In fact, the first night it got into the 30s and we weren’t dressed for that. The girls weren’t all that happy with our selection of campsites, but we decided to give it a try. Now, we had stocked up on all types of canned food because everything tastes good around a fire in the outdoors. That pretty well used up our food budget for the month.

“The second night we were awakened around 5 a.m., by a tremendous crash and all kinds of yelling and noise. We got out of our tent and looked up the mountainside below which we were camped and there was a huge garbage truck being held up over our tent by a few small trees. The driver had skidded off the road on top and went over the side. Had those trees not been there we would have been crushed in our sleeping bags.

“That was the last straw. We decided we wanted to be safe and much warmer and drove over to a place called Katherine’s Landing Campground alongside the Colorado River in Arizona, just outside Bullhead City. It was very hot when I started to pitch the tent. It got hotter and by the time I had gotten the tent up, it had reached about 126 degrees. Inside, the tent was probably close to 150 degrees and I got heatstroke.

“My wife drove me to a diner that was air-conditioned until I recuperated enough to go back to the tent. There, we found the girls’ marshmallows we were to roast over an open fire had turned to pure liquid in the bag. Other items had melted or were ruined.

“Enough. We had to spend the night in an air-conditioned motel, which used up all the remaining cash we had. The next day we packed up and headed back to the L.A., area. When we got home we discovered that some of the items that had been strapped to the top of the car were no longer there. Tarps, stove, charcoal, etc.

“We had to eat canned food for the rest of the month and it doesn’t taste anything like it does when camping.

“Needless to say, the tent, gear and all camping items were sold off and we have never camped since.

“Hope this doesn’t discourage all those that love camping. We still love the great outdoors, but will spend the nights in nice, cool motels.”



I want to thank “Bob” for sharing his tale with both you and me. I’ll never look at a garbage truck the same way again!

Brad Dickerson is a staff writer for the Glasgow Daily Times. He can be reached by e-mail at bdickerson@glasgowdailytimes.com.