If you read the Biking in Muskoka story you will know that Jonathan and I spent a long grueling day biking on an unseasonably hot May day in Toronto Cottage Country. You know that we just biked 148km in about 30 degrees. The whole day I didn’t really see a cloud and all I was thinking about was cold cold drinks. I think we’ve established that it was frigging hot!
We arrived at the campsite to no one, there wasn’t a park ranger or a person in the booth. Also there wasn’t really an empty camp site. So what did we do? We found a great campground on the lake, secluded from the road. The catch? Well there was a freaky looking camper van on it. We really weren’t supposed to be there but we made a pretty decent detour to get there and didn’t really want to go searching for another place to sleep. It was time for some stealth camping!
We set up our dinky two person tent and crashed as the sun went down. Let’s just say I didn’t sleep very well that night. The whole night I was thinking that we were on someone’s property, that we didn’t pay for the entrance and that the RV gang will murder us as soon as they realized there were intruders in their midst! I probably woke about 50 times thinking I heard footsteps. The trees do make a lot of sound, but I thought there was a serial killer around. Then I woke to the sound of rustling in just outside our tent. I thought THIS WAS IT!
It wasn’t, chipmunks or some other critters were trying to get into my bag of apricots. They persevered a little more but apricots were saved after Jonathan slapped at the noise angrily. Most of the night I was just lying on the ground hoping the sun will rise faster and we could get back on the road again. The sun did come up and no serial killers were sighted. Nobody was in the office booth on the way out, so it was a free night of “sleep”.
I’m not a fan of stealth camping. Maybe this was a bad example of it, because we were on someone’s property without permission. I know that Jonathan stealth camped in some Quebecois farmer’s backyard without his knowledge. I just wouldn’t be able to sleep, I would be up all night thinking about all the different farming tools that the farmer could stab me with. What do you think? Could you do it? Did we deserve to be roughed up by the caravan gang?