Camping Stories Funny Novels & Stories

Like being soaking wet in the wrong tent in the dark was the funniest thing that had ever happened to him. She listened while she read. At some point she smiled at the camping story without looking up. And I sat across from her in the kitchen that had stopped being just mine and talked about my brother for the first time without it costing me something and thought about Maine and a week of nothing and the specific way she smiled without looking up. Three days. Less than that now. We were almost there.

The few bears that still roamed the mountains were all hibernating comfortably in their dens. It could have been worse, Nicky and Teri knew—they could have been forced to share a tent with their eight-year-old brothers instead of with each other. But thankfully, the boys were in tents with their dads. The six of them had spent the last couple hours sitting around a blazing campfire, taking turns telling scary stories. Most of the stories were pretty lame, but Teri’s father raised some goose bumps with a tale of a crazed psychopath who preyed on campers, dragging them from their tents back to a cave where he slowly ate them alive. By the time he was done, the youngsters found themselves peeki

Christmas was his favorite holiday because it was simple and normal. He would have preferred Thanksgiving but the day he had a dream of a deep-fried turkey dancing, changed everything. He would go for the most dangerous, superb adventure of his life if it had nothing to do with horror. He could never forget the time he and Josh went into the woods. I miss those times. They went there once every month to camp. They would camp, fish, roast marshmallows…but no scary stories. That was one rule Ethan made for every camping trip they went. They stopped camping…why? Because of one fateful day they came across an abandoned camper. It was clearly abandoned because it had flat tires and weeds were alr

Ravi teased, his playful tone breaking the tension. "Party pooper," Lola laughed, releasing us from her hug. Soon, the campfire crackled to life, casting dancing shadows on the ground, and the tents were set up. We sat together, enjoying the tranquility of nature. Lola brought out her book. "And that's twenty," she said, counting off on her fingers. "Now we have 30, 40, 50, and all the way up to 100," she announced with a smile. When we were younger, we had promised that every ten years, we would come camping together until we died. It was a sweet promise, and the thought of returning year after year made me smile. I hoped for that.

Some of them stand in packhouses and call you the reason their mate is dead. And some of them, maybe, are not monsters at all. Just stories. Just fear. But I do not know which story is true. And that might be the scariest part. --- Night falls. The group makes camp in a valley between two mountains. The guards give me more bread and a blanket. I curl up in the corner of the wagon and try to sleep. I cannot. The stories circle in my head like angry bees. He killed ten rogues with his bare hands.

She could feel Jeremy’s eyes on her, proud and a little awed. Lunch on the Range By midday, the sun was high and the trio took a break under a stand of aspens, sandwiches and cold lemonade spread out on a checkered blanket. Sweat and dust streaked their faces, but the laughter came easy. Lloyd regaled them with stories of his early ranching days, of wild horses and blizzards, of branding gone wrong and calves that got away. Alexandra shared tales from her rookie year in the WFL, and Jeremy told a story about the time he and Lloyd tried to rope a bull that turned out to be a lot meaner than they expected.

"We survived Julian's divorce tactics. CPS investigations. Media scrutiny. Public humiliation. We can survive two weeks in a cabin." "This feels different. More dangerous." "Because it is. But we're here. We're together. We're safe. For now, that's enough." Ivy calls from the yard. "Daddy! Sera! Come push me on the swing!" We go. Push her. Watch her laugh. Pretend this is a vacation and not hiding. That night, we make dinner. Hot dogs and beans. Camping food. Ivy loves it. We tell stories. Play cards. Avoid talking about why we're here.

"You know that every year I organize a family gathering and every employee is required to attend summer camp." "Ah, yes," Camilla remembered that Celie had told her a story. "You... turned out to be the camping type too, huh?" wondered the girl. "Haha," the man chuckled. He stood up and approached Camilla by the shelf. "I didn't like camping at first. But... after living it... well, it's not bad." "My dream is to go camping in a warm little van. And enjoy roasted sweet potatoes and a campfire." Camilla smiles, imagining that she could experience this once in a lifetime.

Two couples share a wild night out in the wilderness. Enjoy. ************* Camping holds a special place in my heart. I grew up in the Pacific Northwest and spent many a summer night camping outdoors with my family. During my college years, my friends and I would sometimes spend days at a time out in the wilderness, hiking, fishing, drinking heavily, and usually smoking quite a bit of weed. Those were some of the best days of my life, and some of the most memorable nights. Off the top of my head, I can rattle off at least a dozen hilarious stories from those trips, the kind my friends and I never tire of retelling when we get together. But none of those camping stories even remotely compares

“Let nothing bad happen again.” No one answered. But from the looks they exchanged, everyone shared the same hope. The night went on. The conversation gradually began to flow again. Someone started bringing up one of Chris's old misadventures, immediately provoking loud protests from the man. Josh happily added details that made the story sound even more embarrassing. Before long, laughter once again broke out around the campfire. And so the night came to an end in the simplest way possible. Filled with warmth and laughter. And with a happiness they had not shared together as a family in a very long time.