By: Blonde Two
Mr B2 enjoys a bit of bike packing in Wales. During these events he does camping in a very minimal way with sleeping bag, bivvy, tarp, a tiny stove and a handful of pork pies. He has often come home and told me stories of waking up with slugs in his ears, not something any camper would look forward too but, I guess, a risk for anyone sleeping on the floor in a bivvy bag, especially somewhere as wet as Wales. Last week I had the privilege of taking my nephew on his first wild camping trip and he elected to bivvy. I think I felt the burden of auntily responsibility because it wasn’t my best nights camping sleep ever (and I am a fairly good camping sleeper). The night was also interrupted by slugs.
To wake up suddenly with something very cold creeping into your nose is not a pleasant camping experience. Even from my slumber, I immediately knew what the slimy creature was, grabbed it and chucked it back into the gorse whence it had come. It felt at least four inches long, which is entirely possible because, on Dartmoor, as well as beautiful butterflies and canny cuckoos, we can lay claim to ash black slugs five times that length.
As you can imagine, somnambulant slug slinging was not my favourite wild camping experience ever, to date slugs have only found their way into my boots and I really do draw the line at my nasal passages. I have become quite good at filing unpleasant, middle of the night camping experiences away however and was soon back to sleep.
As the night progressed there was a fair amount of waking up to check my soundly sleeping nephew and listen to his snoring and teeth grinding (he had wriggled very close to me). Only it turns out that he doesn’t grind his teeth… what I was hearing was the sound that slugs make as they crawl over bivvy bags and start munching on something… I refuse to even consider what that might have been!
I have only bivvied once, and that was enforced, not voluntary, but that is a long story. Very often whilst backpacking I have had them crawling up the outside of my tent causing me to develop a rapid batting off technique. They seem to occur more often in long wet grass when wild camping, and not so often on the short grass of a manicured campsite. I can’t even pick up a frog and I think the experiences you describe would finish me off completely – so much for the hardened, macho backpacker! If you can handle it and don’t panic I suppose it is not extreme masochism, but it certainly would be for me. You have my admiration. I will stick to the tent.
There wasn’t really a lot of choice at the time… the creature was definitely heading for my nasal passage!
Perhaps a ring of cheese graters around your head would stop them? Or peg down some coarse sandpaper? (I’d suggest a drum of salt but that might make Dartmoor briny, which would never do.) My bivvy-bag hoods right over my head and seals down- it is breathable – so at least they stay outside. I’ve only once found a slug on Broughy.
My two camps since have been slug free…
I put up a Polish Lavvu in my garden and just as I was about to doze off I rolled over and put my hand on a slug in my tent. I had put down a groundsheet but it still found it’s way in.
I abandoned ship and went back in the house.
Apparently Dartmoor slugs grow up to 12 inches long. We are both hoping none of those find their way into our tent!