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Chuck Hinman IJMA No. 106: Sleeping Bag Predicament Chuck Hinman. It's Just Me Again No. 106. Claustrophobia: Sleeping Bag Predicament The next earlier Chuck Hinman story: Sibling Rivalry Is Chuck Hinman your favorite Sunday with CM columnist, as many tell us? If so, we hope you'll drop him a line by email. Reader comments to CM are appreciated, as are emails directly to Mr. Hinman at: charles.hinman@sbcglobal.net By Chuck Hinman When our son Paul was in Boy Scouts years ago, I volunteered as an adult sponsor, my job being to help the scout leadership on their many campouts. One time I was a sponsor at a campout in "the woods" a few miles from home here in Bartlesville, Oklahoma. I can see in my mind's eye the location but I don't remember specifically where it was. I know it was NOT Camp McClintock near Osage Hills State Park. The camp site was in a word "primitive." There were no shelters -- nothing. It was just "in the woods" and perfect for a scout campout. We had a typical campfire supper and all that goes with it and it was time to go to bed. Bed consisted of your personal sleeping bag spread out on a soft place of your choosing near the rapidly dying embers of the once raging campfire. Everyone is now on their own to make their sleeping facilities as cozy and comfortable as their ingenuity and scout know how would lead them. There are no camp mommies to tuck you in, hear your prayers, and bring you a drink. Obviously I was out of my realm. I am a business man used to "camping out" at High Dollar Inns around the country. I am NOT used to spending the night with a bunch of young "beady-eyed" scouts who were born with night vision! They were experienced at this kind of life, many having been to National Scout jamborees with scouts from all over the world. They had camped at famed Philmont wilderness camp in Colorado. Many including my son Paul were Eagle Scouts and this outing with none of the comforts of home was a "piece of cake" challenging their survival skills in adverse conditions. And they loved it. Well, NOT ME! I am a Tenderfoot Scout dropout circa 1929. By the flickering light of the soon to go out campfire, I could see I was the last to get in my sleeping bag. The truth is that I was in no hurry knowing it was going to be a loooooong night. I worried about what to do with my glasses; there was no nightstand. And my dentures; what do scouts do with them on a campout? Never mind, I know the answer -- scouts don't have false teeth. Why am I here? Why did I volunteer for this? I'm used to sleeping "in the raw" at home but the 45 degree weather ruled that out.... I took off my shoes but not my socks... and.... So what the heck -- I scrambled in my sleeping bag, clothes, teeth and all and zipped the tighter than I thought sleeping bag around my shivering body with both arms stiffly at my side. I couldn't turn over without the whole sleeping bag going with me. I couldn't scratch my nose -- or anything. There wasn't anyplace my arms could go. I DON'T LIKE THIS AT ALL... AND IT'S ONLY 9 PM (I think). Well, it didn't take long for me to realize I was in what in wrestling terms is called a "predicament." I was getting panicky and knew I absolutely could not stand that feeling. I was about to blackout when mustering all the strength I had, I BURST out of that sleeping bag like it was a toy! I quickly unzipped the bag from head to toe. But even that wasn't enough. I didn't want it touching me anywhere! I was having a full blown case of hysterical claustrophobia and I couldn't do a thing about it except keep anything from creating the feeling of binding my arms! I would have hurt someone if they had attempted to restrain me. Apparently that's what claustrophobia does to your mind. My car was a few feet away and I considered AWOL charges if I abandoned my post as adult sponsor and drove home and crawled in bed with Connie. Sanity, and the cold night air prevailed and I quietly picked up my sleeping bag and spent the rest of the night in my car with the sleeping bag draped loosely over my, by now, freezing body! I didn't sleep! I found other ways to serve as adult sponsor than campouts! And my almost unused sleeping bag went for a buck at our garage sale! This story was posted on 2010-09-12 03:36:39
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Have comments or corrections for this story? Use our contact form and let us know. More articles from topic Chuck Hinman - Reminiscences:
Chuck Hinman IJMA No. 119: Beta Beta Beta : the Black Bottom Boys Chuck Hinman IJMA No. 162: A Tribute to Our Horses Chuck Hinman. IJMA No. 016: Twenty froggies went to school Chuck Hinman IJMA No. 092: Borrowing Stuff Chuck Hinman IJMA 078: Fried Chicken Chuck Hinman, IJMA 109: Little Helper Boy Chuck Hinman, IJMA 115: The Time Mom Taught Me To Control My Temper Chuck Hinman, IJMA 079: Advice for Retirement: Kitchen Rules Chuck Hinman, IJMA 033: Cherry Canning Chuck Hinman, IJMA No. 139: What I Miss Most View even more articles in topic Chuck Hinman - Reminiscences |
 
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