As I slither out of my sleeping bag an hour after “quiet hours” began at the campground, creeping toward the door of the tent to go ask the people at the next campsite to maybe possibly keep it down, you know, if it’s not too much trouble, I think: this is going to go one of two ways. They’re going to say oops, sorry, we’ll quiet down, or I’m going to have to engage in hand-to-hand combat with up to five men (which will be quick and painful, for me).
Nobody wants to be that person, the killjoy who walks over to a campsite of people having fun—loud fun—to remind them that this is actually not their backyard, this is a public campground, and other people might be trying to sleep right now. But in the past couple decades, I have been that guy many times. I have used various techniques, have not been physically assaulted or maimed (yet), and have sometimes even succeeded in gently nudging the loud folks to, in the words of Adam Mansbach, read by Samuel L. Jackson, Go the Fuck to Sleep. Here are a few strategies, rated for their effectiveness.
Denial
You didn’t hear anything. You just woke up. It’s totally quiet out there.
Effectiveness: 2/10
Vigilance
You listen intently, as if a predator might be approaching your tent. You stop breathing. Was that a noise? A car door closing, a camper door slamming shut, someone laughing, someone playing … a flute … at 10 p.m.? Did you hear it again? Yes. Yes, you did. Goddammit.
Effectiveness: 0/10
Earplugs
You put earplugs in your ears. In my experience of working in a loud factory, earplugs are great at minimizing the hearing damage one might suffer working in loud environments where the sound level is pretty constantly uncomfortable, but in a place where relative quiet is abruptly punctured by a loud noise every few minutes, they can be hit or miss.
Effectiveness: Best-case, 10/10. Worst-case, 3/10.
Gaslighting yourself
That guy’s laugh wasn’t that loud, was it? I mean, it might have just woken you up as you were drifting into sleep, but you’re probably just a bit sensitive. That thump every 20-30 seconds? It’s pretty muted, honestly, and 11 p.m. is a perfectly OK time to split firewood. You’re just being oversensitive.
Effectiveness: 0/10
Anger
This strategy involves getting so mad you could spit, or do spit, or imagine yourself forcefully silencing the loud people, or pouring corn syrup into the fuel tank of their generator that’s been running since 7 p.m., or hastily packing up your entire camp and driving home/somewhere else while shaking your head in disbelief. Not effective.
Effectiveness: -3/10
Not being mad, just being disappointed
As effective as this technique was when I was a teenager and my mom used it on me, it does not work to get people to be considerate of others’ experiences.
Effectiveness: 0/10
Deploying chemical agents that will render them unconscious
Actually haven’t tried this one, but have fantasized about it many times.
Effectiveness: Who’s to say, really. Definitely illegal though.
Complaining, in head
Effectiveness: 0/10
Complaining to tentmate(s)
Effectiveness: 0/10
Self-righteousness
Sure, you’re far from perfect, but you would never be an inconsiderate dickhead like those loud people are! I mean, the nerve. Don’t they realize there are other people here trying to enjoy the sounds of the breeze in the trees, or birdsong, and not a bunch of dipshits playing Wizard Staff and falling into the campfire? Oh, wait. You have been an inconsiderate dickhead, at least that one time. It was years ago, but still.
Effectiveness: 0/10
Approaching their campsite and politely asking them to quiet down
Awkward, really not enjoyable unless you happen to enjoy confrontation, but if you really believe someone has to do it, it might have to be you. You can accidentally shine your headlamp in everyone’s eyes on its brightest setting, but it’s not very diplomatic.
Effectiveness: anywhere from 0/10 to 10/10
Waiting for someone else to ask offending party to quiet down
True story, one time I was climbing at Red Rock Natural Conservation Area near Vegas and we camped there a couple nights, and there was absolutely no vegetation between campsites, so sound traveled pretty far. At like 1:30 a.m., I woke up to someone’s dog barking for a few seconds, maybe at a coyote or something. The dog kept barking, kept barking, kept barking, for a couple minutes. I sighed, resigned to the fact that I was going to have to get out of my sleeping bag, unzip the tent door, walk over there and … suddenly, I heard someone from another campsite scream, “SHUT THAT FUCKING DOG UUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPP!!!!!!” Seconds later, the dog stopped barking. I rolled over and went back to sleep.
Effectiveness: In the above story, 10/10, but results vary per situation.
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