Rookies learn to camp with Texas Parks and Wildlife program

BASTROP STATE PARK — Until this month, Sid Puranik had never gone camping.
So when he heard rustling outside the tent where his family was sleeping this month, his thoughts could have turned to monsters or bears. Instead, the 7-year-old just figured an armadillo was nosing through the pine needles.

For that wise deduction, he can thank a Texas Parks and Wildlife Department program that introduces tenderfoot campers to the great outdoors.

"My kids were really curious about going for a camp," says Satish Puranik of Katy. When he and his wife, Vani, heard about the Texas Outdoor Family program, they loaded up the family — including Sid and his 4-year-old brother, Vineet, and their grandfather who is visiting from India — and headed to Bastrop State Park. Other than Satish, none of the family had ever spent the night in a tent.

The Texas Parks and Wildlife Department decided to offer the learn-to-camp program after noting a decline in tent camping. The agency invested about $250,000, partnered with REI and Toyota Motor Corp., and piloted the program around Austin and Houston this summer, with plans to expand it to the Hill Country and Dallas area by spring. They will track participants to see whether they make future trips to state parks.

"We really think people want to camp. They just don't know how any more," says Chris Holmes, head of outdoor programs for the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department. "The outdoors these days is seen as a dangerous and scary place."

The overnight sessions allow families (or friends) to learn together in a park environment, where everything from a tent to a dust broom and pan is provided, along with professional instruction. Besides basic skills such as pitching a tent and firing up a propane-fueled camp stove, participants get to try their hand at geocaching, fishing and kayaking. Stewardship is an important part of the program, which is "Leave No Trace" certified.

"It seems funny to us, but our generation is so detached from the outdoors," says Carlee Klatenhoff, an outdoor education specialist who helped lead the Bastrop session. "We have to teach things we take for granted — that hoot owls are not scary and toads won't eat you."
The program is crucial, she says. "People don't tent camp anymore. They think it's too hard, too complicated. We're trying to teach them in one day what we learned growing up. ... A weekend doesn't have to be at home with PlayStation."

But not everyone is a born camper. During the first afternoon of the Bastrop program, which has drawn about 20 campers, one teenage girl sneaks away to talk on her cell phone. A kid grumbles about the heat. Another wonders how he can be expected to sleep in a tent — and without his usual fix of Scooby-Doo cartoons before bedtime.

But the organizers forge on, passing along tips about how to select a camp site, orient a tent to a breeze and light a charcoal fire. It's all about basics and doesn't get into skills needed for more rustic camping or camping in areas with dangerous wildlife or cold temperatures.

"We will wander around to the sites and help you," Dan Hayes, another outdoor education specialist, assures the campers as each family is given for the session a plastic bin full of gear. Inside? Besides a tent, there's a camp stove, French press coffee pot, battery-operated fan and lantern, air mattresses and dishware.

The Puranik family marches off to their designated campsite, fumbling a bit as they spread out their tent and stake it down. When the tent is finally up and the boys figure out how to get inside, they dance with excitement. Soon, air mattresses are inflated and the lantern is hanging inside.

"It's kind of an adventure for us," Vani Puranik says. "It's a good feeling. It's nice."
The thrill of fishing, kayaking and erecting a tent has taken its toll, though. The weary family, which cooked curry over a camp stove for lunch, decides to head to town for dinner at a nearby Tex-Mex restaurant. They return in an hour an a half, ready to immerse themselves again in their outdoor experiment.

The instructors, meanwhile, have prepared a slide show to introduce the group to some of the wildlife they might encounter after the sun sets.

"One of the things we've learned is how deathly afraid of the night-time people are," Holmes says.

"People literally think that the boogie man is out there. An armadillo rustling through leaves sounds like a person. They hear a cicada and think the electric lines are down."

The younger visitors are especially interested. "It's getting a little darker and you're going to start hearing noises," Holmes tells them.

"It's a good time to tell scary stories," 7-year-old Lance Spivey of Houston says with a giggle.
"Nothing is scary out here. There's nothing that can get you. No bears, no boogie man," Holmes says. He shows photos of cicadas and toads, owls and coyotes. With each photo, he plays a recording of the sounds it makes. With each photo, a new question.

"Is it poison?" Lance asks when a picture of a leopard frog flashes on the screen.
"There's nothing that can hurt you in this park," Holmes says.

When a picture of an opossum appears, Sid wants to know whether he can pet it. Someone else wants to know whether coyotes bite.

Finally, someone asks whether dessert is ready.

With that, Klatenhoff lifts the lid off a Dutch oven, releasing a cinnamon-scented puff of steam. It's campfire cobbler, made with butter, cake mix and canned fruit. When dessert is gone, the families trickle back to their campsites where they'll put their new skills to the test.

By 8 a.m. the next morning, the families emerge from their tents. A pair of fawns nibble grass in the campground, birds chirp and sun filters through the tall pines. The group gathers again, sipping coffee and sharing tales. Holmes congratulates them on surviving the night and hands out certificates of completion and booklets outlining what they've learned.

Sid bubbles with excitement over what it was like to sleep in the wild, amid the chirps and calls of the native inhabitants.

"I never have slept in a tent; I have never slept on an air mattress," he says. "It was awesome. ... When I heard those noises, I was like, 'What's that?' But I knew there were animals."

Fishing, camping, boating and hiking make Branched Oak summer hot spot

RAYMOND - One of eastern Nebraska's favorite campsites is located at Branched Oak State Park and Recreation Area near Raymond.

"It is always packed here every weekend throughout the summer. It is a great place to camp for the weekend," said Nebraska Game and Parks Officer Mike Luben.

Branched Oak stretches out over nearly 6,000 acres and has nearly 2,000 acres of open water.

Twelve camping sites feature full hookup (electric, sewer and water).

There are 338 pad sites, 287 of which have electricity capability.

Campers have a lot of choices when deciding how to spend a summer weekend at Branched Oak Lake.

"Fishing has been great at Branched Oak. Catfish and walleye fishing should really start picking up again in August," said Nebraska Game and Parks Commission Lake and Reservoirs Program Manager Daryl Bauer.

The water is just a short walk from many of the camping areas and fisherman and boating enthusiasts are just a couple of minutes from campground to water.

One of the unique qualities of Branched Oak is the number of trails available for hikers, bikers and even those who choose to bring a horse.

There is 7 miles available for those who like to put on the mountain boots to do some hiking.

There is a 6-mile bike trail featuring rugged terrain and fabulous scenery.

Those on horseback have a three-mile trail on which to navigate.

Some of Nebraska's best wildlife habitat is located near Branched Oak State Park.

Waterfowl and pheasant hunting are also extremely popular at the state park.

Nebraska Game and Parks Commission Waterfowl Program Manager Mark Vrtiska says that Branched Oak is one of the many Salt Valley Lakes that offer waterfowl enthusiasts a chance at bagging a bird.

"When it comes to public grounds for waterfowl hunting Branched Oak is one of the best. It gets a lot of pressure. It is extremely popular," Vrtiska added.

Pheasant hunters also visit Branched Oak for some of Nebraska's top upland game hunting.

Luben stated that the pheasant numbers could be affected this year by the heavy amounts of rain that fell across eastern Nebraska in June.

"Their habitat was wiped out more than once by some heavy rains and that may have an affect on their numbers," Luben added.

Camping couple recount lightning strike

A Montreal couple struck by lightning while camping on a remote Quebec island are lucky to be alive, a leading climatologist says.

'There was a crack in my head, and the light, white blue orange, it was everywhere.'— Kim McNairn

Kim McNairn and Les Perreaux were on day four of a six-day kayaking trip on the Cabonga Reservoir in Quebec last week when a thunderstorm rolled through the area and lightning struck the tiny island where they'd pitched a tent for the night.

Perreaux — a newspaper reporter who has worked as a war correspondent — said his experience in Afghanistan pales in comparison to the adrenaline shot he got that night.
"I've had bombs fall not too far away, and I've had bullets whistle over my head, and this was scarier," he said.

The evening in La Vérendrye Provincial Park started calmly with a beautiful sunset, but the couple was awoken around 2 a.m. by thunder in the distance.

"Kim was counting, and I ducked outside, and I could smell electricity," said Perreaux, 37.
"Then it was like we were in the middle of a bomb, like a bomb went off right near our tent," said McNairn, 32, a CBC journalist in Montreal.

"Like there was a crack in my head, and the light, white blue orange, it was everywhere."
"It didn't matter if your eyes were open or closed; the light was in your head. It was that intense," Perreaux said.

McNairn said the light was followed by tingling that coursed through her body for several minutes before fading.

"I was feeling a tingling sensation through my arms and legs. I felt I'd been shocked and it wasn't painful, but it was a sensation that I have felt something," she said.

"Then it started to get scary," McNairn said. "I'm screaming and you can smell burned hair. You think, I'm so close, I'm smelling this, this is it, this is it."

The two lay in their tent, worrying about another strike, the condition of their hearts, and whether the campsite was going to burn.

They got up to check outside the tent and huddled inside until the sun came up.

That's when they found evidence of the lighting's path — the base of a nearby tree blown out by the impact, disturbed soil at the base of one of their tent poles, a burned-out furrow running from the tent pole to the forest, and scorch marks on the tent's frame.

The couple's tent was hit directly, or indirectly by a ground current, and they're lucky to have emerged unscathed because a lightning bolt can carry a charge of 100 million volts, said Dave Phillips, a senior climatologist with Environment Canada.

"My sense is that it could very well have hit the tree and came down," he told McNairn after she asked about her experience.

"The tent peg is so low, that's the other thing; I think it took the ground current. It can travel dozens, 50, 100 metres across that route."

"It was luck" more than anything else that they weren't injured, Phillips said. Every year about a dozen people are killed by lightning in Canada, and more than 70 are seriously injured.
McNairn and Perreaux's thin mattress probably provided some insulation, he said.
Perreaux and McNairn, nature enthusiasts who have gone on countless camping trips, plan more.

"I hope I don't change too much and get nervous about going outside," McNairn said. "But it sure is humbling to feel the force of nature like that, and I hope that's what I take away, is [respecting] it, and wow, man, we're lucky."

"I think it's easier to chalk it up to good luck," Perreaux said.