Traveling Horror Stories

[demiurge1138]

I was reading the thread about exotic locales and strange women, and I realized that, although my vacations had had plenty of the former, there was a lack of the latter. And a lot more weird, horrible, or strange occurences and unfortunate events. So, this is a thread to share the terrible things that have happened to you on vacation.

I'll start.

I was in Costa Rica last summer, being shown the country by my aunt, who loves the place. Eventually, we're on the west coast, in a remote resort reachable only by air. I'm having a great time, mitigated only slightly by the fact that I have an infected wound on my foot, which makes the long hikes a bit uncomfortable. I'm sitting on a porch, reading a book, enjoying the ocean view, when I feel a strange nibbling sensation on my foot. I look down, to see that ants are feeding on my infected wound, tearing off little chunks and carrying them back to their nest. Disgusting, right? Right. But here's the strange thing. After that disturbing incident, it healed a lot faster, and was pretty much gone by the end of the trip.

There was also the time when I was in Death Valley, at a volcanic crater. You could climb down this crater and explore the bottom, which is what my cousin and I decided to do. Without water. Bad idea. I nearly died on the way back up, and I was severely dehydrated for the rest of the day, despite the fact that I was pumping fluids into myself as quickly as possible once I got out. Strange thing is, I don't remember my cousin suffering any ill effects.

Demiurge out.

 

[IronWolf]

Hhhmmm, probably too many to count....

Flat tire in Kansas at 2am while driving from Ohio to Estes Park, Colorado. We were driving straight through so this wasn't much fun. Kansas is my least favorite state in the Union...

There was a time we took the Cranberry Route off the North Rim in the Grand Canyon. The Cranberry Route is not a trail, but really and truly a route where you need to use a rope to make it through certain sections of the Redwall in the Canyon. First day of an 8 day hike, full packs - I fell going down a slope within the first three hours and promptly put my hand into a cactus. Yuck. Another guy had some heat issues, couple with being out of shape. The ravens circled us while we sat baking on top of the Redwall in the afternoon sun while the route was scouted out (that was after we passed a rattlesnake hiding under the boulders we were rockhopping on. Having found the right route we climbed down and lowered packs. Due to a miscommunication one of the packs was dropped sixty feet off the cliff - luckily it survived and did not roll off the other cliff! Heading down an slope that looked beyond the angle of repose a rock was kicked loose (more like a basketball sized boulder) and rolled down the slope picking up speed and hit one of our party members in the leg causing it to swell up pretty good. Ran out of water at the *start* of the dry lake bed. Finally after we rolled into the area we were camping after over 12 hours of hiking with full packs we got the tarp up *while* it rained. That was day one.

Oh and my stories of climbing with "Off Route Eric" could fill several more posts.....

 

[Zappo]

After that disturbing incident, it healed a lot faster, and was pretty much gone by the end of the trip.

I recall reading somewhere that certain species of ants are actually used as a treatment in these cases (where less disturbing methods aren't available). They eat the dead bits and don't touch the healthy ones.

There was also the time when I was in Death Valley, at a volcanic crater. You could climb down this crater and explore the bottom, which is what my cousin and I decided to do. Without water. Bad idea. I nearly died on the way back up, and I was severely dehydrated for the rest of the day, despite the fact that I was pumping fluids into myself as quickly as possible once I got out. Strange thing is, I don't remember my cousin suffering any ill effects.

Very close to what happened to me in Iceland. I climbed down a crater to take a bath in the naturally warm, sulphuric water. It was very pleasant and I recommend it to anyone - but bring lots of water with you. I think the sulphur sucks the water through the skin. When I climbed back up, the mother of all thirsts literally jumped on me - and my mother, the one who was carrying the drinks, was already on her way back. Luckily, there was a torrent nearby. I stumbled there and drank about a liter of fresh torrent water, and quickly felt better. I wasn't in danger, but I was thirsty enough not to care about the torrent water being clean.

Strangely, of the whole group I was the only one who suffered so violently.

 

[DarrenGMiller]

When my wife and I left for our honeymoon, we drove from Winter Haven, FL to Ocala, FL and spent the night, then left Ocala headed for New Orleans. Mergin onto I-10, we were forced off the road by an inattentive motorist who entered the same lane we were entering. No contact, but close. Near Pensacola, we drove through a HUGE forest fire that was burning both sides of the highway and the sky was black with smoke that rose to an incredible height. We could see the smoke and flames from miles away. A few hours later into our trip, a violent storm caught us. It literally ripped the windshield wipers off of our car. I pulled over under a bridge and ran out onto the highway, backtracking, and miraculously found both wiper blades and reattached them. Shortly thereafter we crossed the world's scariest metal mesh deck bridge. I was going about 40 mph and had no control whatsoever for a few seconds. I still can't believe we survived that drive.

On another trip in 1998, we left Charleston, SC headed for Akron, OH to see my wife's sister. As we drove north on I-77 in West Virginia, we began seeing cars parked on the sides of the highway. Soon, we crossed an overpass and saw the National Guard putting boats into the water right from an exit ramp. The water was up to the edge of the highway we were driving on at this point, so we got off at the next rest area and found out that I-77 was closed at the Ohio border and we would have to make a detour. It was beginning to get dark when we left the interstate and after we and the car behind us turned onto the rural two-lane we were directed onto, the National Guard closed the road to further traffic. As we drove, we saw the river beside the road grow higher and higher, eventually reaching the road. We were watching houses float by to our left and people packing their belongings and heading to higher ground on our right. I kept driving. At one point, we saw a flooded nuclear power plant. At another point the opposite lane (which we did not seee another car use the entire time we were driving) started dropping into the water as we watched... talk about white-knuckle driving. Later in that trip, my parents called (July 4th actually) to tell me my brother had died.

DM

 

[Rel]

My wife and I were on our honeymoon trip to Cozumel, Mexico. On the whole the trip was fun but strange and bad things started to befall us as we were attempting to get home.

First, I needed to settle up with the dive shop where we had done all of our diving down there. The shop owner was incredibly laid back and kept telling us, "We take care of that later" when I offered to pay earlier in the trip. The morning we were scheduled to leave, I went by the shop and the place was locked up tight with nobody in sight. So I left a note with my address and e-mail so they could send me a bill later on. Then we dashed to catch our ferry back to the mainland where we would fly out of Cancun.

We were flying standby but it was the off season and there had been plenty of space on all the planes so far so we weren't worried. But apparently a bunch of people had decided to leave that same day and we were turned down for one flight after another until they were all gone for the day and we had to battle our way BACK through customs ("But it says here that you just LEFT the country today?").

We hooked up with another couple who were also flying standby and, since we all had to be back at the airport the following morning at 8:00 AM to attempt to find another flight, we decided it would be a really good idea to drink an assload of tequila that night. :\ After staying the night in the nastiest motel in Cancun (I'll let you mull that over for a second...), we got up, vomited for half an hour and made our way to the airport, looking and feeling our best.

The other couple managed to get on the first flight out but we didn't. Nor the next one. Nor the next one. The final flight of the day came up and suddenly they called our names. We dashed over to the desk and they told us that we were probably not going to make that flight either but to hang on. We were near tears (I was afraid I might lose my job if I didn't make it back that night). Then the airline worker came back over and said that there was good news...we could get on the flight AND we would be sitting in First Class. "But wait, we can't let you into First Class dressed like that."

"WHAT?!" She explained that I had to have a button down shirt on and my wife would need the same or a dress.

Now we were vacationing in MEXICO in MAY and it was bloody hot. Virtually all of our atire consisted of t-shirts and shorts. I had not a single button down shirt with me. My wife had one, slightly large and loose fitting button down blouse that had been sitting wrinkled in the bottom of our luggage for at least two days. My wife was about to cry when I grabbed her by the shoulders and said, "Give me your blouse." Then I pointed at a nearby gift shop and shoved every peso we had left into her hand and said, "You go buy a dress. NOW!" She ran into the gift shop and I ran into the bathroom and put on jeans and her blouse (good thing I'm not fat).

I go back out to the desk trying to pretend that this blouse fits me well and isn't wrinkly and a little funky smelling. She comes running up wearing the sexiest, skimpiest sundress and I'm thinking, "They are never going to let us into First Class looking like this." But they did.

In less than 10 minutes we went from total despair to sitting in First Class, drinking the pre-flight glass of champagne. It was emotional whiplash and we started to laugh until we were almost crying. The flight attendant asked us about why we were acting this way and we gave her the short version of the story. She cocked her head and asked, "Why didn't you just tell them at the desk to let someone in Coach have the First Class seats and you could have sat in Coach dressed as you were?"

My wife and I looked at each other and began to laugh hysterically at our folly. To the credit of the flight attendant, she gave us special attention all the way to Miami. After we made it through customs in Miami I literally got down on my knees and kissed the ground.

Oh, I almost forgot, after repeated attempts to contact the dive shop by phone and e-mail, I simply could not get into contact with them. We never did pay for our diving for that trip and I've felt a little guilty about it ever since. But only a little.

 

[BiggusGeekus]

On a skiing trip with my Dad, I slammed into a tree. Sometimes I tell people I broke my arm, other times I tell them I broke my shoulder. What happened was that the ball of the ball-and-socket joint in my upper left arm had been smashed and was fragmented. As a matter of pride, I managed to ski the rest of the way down the slope and got over to First Aid.

Dig this, the nurse there told me that my arm was dislocated and I should just slam it against a door fram to knock it back into place. Obviously, she had seen too many Lethal Weapon movies. The doctor was a little more cautious and told me to go to a hospital to get it x-rayed.

I felt bad when I got to the hospital because the only people who were in emergency was me and this 12-year-old kid whose parents let him use a snowblower unattended. A rock got stuck in the snowblower, jamming it. The kid reached in to dislodge it and lost three of his fingers. The docs felt they could reattach one of them. So I didn't really complain much.

When they got around to looking at my x-rays, they basically realized there was nothing they could do for me, but put me on painkillers. The only way to immobilize that joint wsa to put me in an upper body cast, which I refused because it would mean I couldn't type, which means I would have no job. My Dad drove me back to the hotel. The next morning, I had to go home. My Dad offered to drive me, but we were in West Virginia, I live in Washington DC and he lives in Ohio. Opposite directions.

I do the drive back home. I can't take the painkillers, because I can't fall asleep at the wheel. It was a six hour drive. I did it in eight because I wasn't going to take chances. By the time I got home I was in so much pain, I had to ask someone else to park my car. I staggered up to my appartment, got home, and ... discovered that the bastage who gave me my painkillers put them in a childproof bottle. I had to bang the cap off against the edge of the kitchen counter. The pills scattered everywhere. I took 150% of the reccomended dosage and downed it with Bacardi rum.

Ten years later, the shoulder still hurts.

 

[Cthulhu's Librarian]

Horrible vacation stories? OK, you asked.

In 1993, my entire family (Mom, Dad, me, brother, sister, and my girlfriend) were going on a long, 6 week, cross country driving vacation. My Dad (an antique dealer) had bought a new van, partly for the trip, and partly because he wanted a vehicle besides his pickup truck to take to antique shows. The first two days were going to be spent driving as quickly across the country from New York to South Dakota as possible, then begin our vacation there and slowly work our way out to Seattle, down the west coast, then head east into Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, etc. We made it to Sioux Falls, SD and stopped for the night in a Howard Johnsons motel, went for a swim. After swimming in the motel pool, we headed back to our rooms, and settled in to unwind for the evening before starting the real vacation the next day. At around 10:30pm, while everyone was sitting around reading, talking, etc. when my father collaped on the bed. We called 911 and the front desk, and soon had a resque squad in the room. Dad was taken to the hospital, and we were driven there in a police car, as we had no idea where we were going. We got there, waited for about an hour with no information, and finally a doctor came out and told us that my Dad had passed away from a massive heart attack. Apparently, he was pretty much gone as soon as he collapsed, but they continued to work on him for a while before he finally gave up completely. So there we are, in the middle of nowhere after 2 days of non-stop driving, the entire family a complete wreck. There was no way we were going to be able to drive everyone back in the condition we were in, so we booked a plane ride home, but the soonest we could get a flight was 2 days later. So we sat in the hotel room my father had died in, waiting, unable to sleep or eat, until the day of our flight. We put the van in a storage unit to be picked up at a later date by a friend of ours who offered to fly out and drive it back, and flew home. God those were the longest days of my life.

 

[Crothian]

In 86 my family and I were in England. We drove up to Scotland for a day and on the way back we hit a rig. We were in a mini van, and as you may imagine the rig won. We flipped over about a half dozen times. Least I'm told that, I was out. I broke my leg, my hand, my face....but the worse was my mom. She had severe frontal brain damage. we had to spend the whole summer in England as the doctors felt my mom couldn't make the travel back to the stats. She had amnesia and now she has much of her memory back but nothing of that trip or the years around it.

 

[Angel Tarragon]

See this.

 

[Chimera]

Luckily, I've never had any of those bad experiences.

The worst was back in 1992. I had gone for a Great Circle Trip out west. Five thousand miles through 13 states in 13 days, visiting friends in Denver, Yosemite and Oregon. Gamer friends. Basically living out of my little Mazda pickup truck, passing through the Black Hills (SD), down to Denver, down to Mesa Verde (NM), up through Nevada and into CA, through the Bay area, up to Grant's Pass (OR) and then back home.

On the way home, I was planning to drive straight through during the night, but this incredible wind storm kicked up and I had to take shelter in a wayside rest in Idaho. Every car and truck in the place was heading into the ditches, pointing themselves into the wind, so I did the same. Woke up at 6am, got cleaned up a bit and then headed out.

About an hour later, I stopped at another wayside rest, this one seemingly deserted except for one car at the far end, where an elderly couple were walking their dogs. Parked right in front of the building, got out and started to walk up.

Two young men sitting on a picnic table between me and the building. One of them backhand taps the other on the chest, points and me and says "Let's get him.". The two jump up and start walking toward me, one of them glaring at me, the other looking around for possible witnesses.

Fortunately for me, I had borrowed a .38 derringer from a friend before the trip and due to the storm and such, just happened to have it in my pocket. I stopped, pulled it out and held it across my chest, pointed to the side. Just wanted to let them see it. No desire or intention of using it.

The guy glaring at me stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed the other guy by the arm. When his buddy looked at him, he nodded down toward the gun. They seemed to freeze in place for a couple of seconds, then suddenly bolted across the field toward the nearby woods.

I very carefully walked into the building to use the facilities, then very slowly and carefully walked out, making sure they weren't ready to jump me. As I got back to my car, about half a dozen other vehicles pulled into the rest stop all at once. I figured that would be enough people to deter the would-be muggers, so I moved on.

Heck, I lived in a bad neighborhood for 11 years, brushed off drunks, drug dealers and would-be muggers on several occasions after this without ever getting into a fight. But this one still resonates (intuition) as the time when I came closest to being in serious trouble.