My worst human experience is rather simple...it's what others leave behind when they've left the wilds. The hardest thing to comprehend is how much refuse folks ditch in places where otherwise are wilderness and isolated. I'm all about finding and exploring new patches of terrain without human influence, and when I encounter trash, broken discarded gear, or exposed crap and TP in wild places, it detracts from my personal experience of the landscape.
Refuse is easy to pack out, and if we truly value the experience itself, we have to dig deeper into our values pockets for that extra effort to protect that experience for others who come behind us.
Sorry, no Brokeback Mnt stories to share...
But...I do have a funny and completely disgusting experience to share about me and my best bud, Sambo.
A few years ago (mid season) my dog and I had been travelling in the wilds for a couple months, floating rivers, hiking hillcountry, fishing, chasing ground squirrels, etc. Come July we were camped on a river about 50 miles from the road system. Sambo had stopped eating for a couple of days by then, so I was a bit concerned that he'd eaten something that may have blocked his system or given him a sore belly...
This night in particular he had found a porky in camp and was really wanting outside the tent, I thought so he could chase the critter and have some fun...but it was close to midnight and he still insisted on getting out of the tent...
Well, I was tired and had taken some benadryl to help me sleep in Alaska daylight (all night long).
In my stupor, I laid on my back and was dreamin heavily when I felt rain drops on my face...
A minute may have passed when the rain got heavier. Somehow I regained my cognitive faculties long enough to realize that I may have forgotten to put the fly on my tent, so half asleep I convinced myself to open my eyes to check the rooftop of the tent.
When I opened my eyes, my tent fly was in place...it was raining inside the tent...
Meanwhile, Sambo's bunghole was given me the stink eye, and he was spraying foul fluid from his arse, aimed directly over my face, shoulder, and chest. My dog needed to shat so bad that he could hold it anymore, and couldn't escape my two-man shelter in time...he had to shat now!
I was overwhelmed by the stinch, and I had about 3-qts of squirt all in my face, hair and sleeping bag...YUCK!
Poor Sambo had swallowed a bolus of grass that blocked his bowels, and he died from complications of this and two surgeries 4 months later. He was in a bad way, and I got the brunt of his experience face first...
My worst and most memorable human to dog experience...!