Sleeping With a Banshee 

Guys, shit you not: I slept in a shelter with a banshee.

You might be thinking, “haha, alright Wayne. Sure. Uhuh.” BUT I AM SO FOR SERIOUS RIGHT NOW.

Ok so it all started when we got into camp at 9pm.

Not a good time. It was cold and misty and dark. It had been a really long day and I just wanted it to be over. Rolling into a campsite in the dark is hard because everyone is already set up and you go around with your headlamp feeling like a loud, disrespectful bear.

For this reason, I didn’t want to eat dinner. I could barely stomach a cliff bar after the day I just had. Nature seemed to agree with me, because promptly after I got my tent set up the heavens opened and it poured.

At first I thought it’d all be fine.

I did find a good place to put my tent. There was a shelter a stones throw away and then a second one .3 down the path. I didn’t want to sleep in the shelter because bugs will eat you alive if you don’t have a bug net.

So it’s pouring and I’m thinking that I’m ok with this, it’s fine. I’m writing because that makes me feel better.

And then I go to get up.

And my floor is literally, straight up, the consistency of a waterbed.

That’s right: I am sleeping in a puddle.

“NO WAY! What!” I start shouting and laughing. This is just too absurd. And there’s no way I’ll be dry in the morning.

Screw it, I’m going in the shelter.

So I shove everything in my bag fully ready to just ditch my tent and sleep in the shelter. Except when I get there? It’s empty! What a blessing! Surely I am too lucky.

Since it’s 11:30pm by now, I think it’s perfectly fine to just drop my entire tent into the shelter. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Plus, there was totally still room if someone needed it.

I get all cozy and then…

The first noise. This massive scratching coming from beneath me. That’s when I realized in one fell swoop why no one was in this shelter, why it looked so shitty, why there was one right down the path…


They had completely over taken the shelter, scraping it apart bit by bit with their spindly backs. So I had to act like the angry upstairs neighbor banging on the floor every 2 hours, “Hey! I’m tryin’ ta sleep, here!”
So then I hear this moaning. It sounds like an old woman who is lost and wandering. But I’m really naive and I’ve heard a lot of weird unexplained shit in the middle of the night. So I just figured it was the porcupines making weird noises.

I mean, have you ever heard a porcupine?

Joke’s on me. It’s a goddamn Banshee.

Yeah, I made it through the night no problem. I’m alive! So that’s good.

But I saw all the signs in the morning. They read, “HIGH BEAR AREA. FOLLOW SAFETY PRECAUSIONS.” Someone had penciled in “& BANSHEE” on the sign.

It all began to make sense.

So that’s how I ended up spending a night with a banshee. South Wilcox shelter in Massachusetts. Beware. Beware. 

Fly on!

Lil Wayne.


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