The commonest mistake is that of leaving the choice of a resting place till too late. It is sometimes fantastically difficult to make oneself comfortable if one starts about it after nightfall, or in the late twilight. You need time. Any time after five o’clock in the afternoon, should you come upon an ideal spot for spending the night, it is better to give up tramping for the day there and then and take over your billet.
If it is raining you need the shelter of heavily foliaged trees, or of a cave, or of an overhanging rock, or of a bridge over a river, or of a barn. If it is at all likely to rain you need to have such refuges near you, so that you can decamp readily and easily, and without mislaying half your kit. Of all these, the overhanging rock is the most pleasant, and like it, the large slanting tree trunk, or some protruding bank of earth and turf.
Rain is not such a calamity in the tramp’s night as might appear, though a long spell of rainy weather may be depressing. Even if one gets a little wet at night it is not too unpleasant. I have known pleasure in a soaking night out of doors. One reckons, however, upon sunshine next morning and the chance of drying off before ten o’clock.
Much discomfort is caused by stones at night.
“Stones Thy pillow, earth Thy bed,” says the Lenten hymn, but earth thy pillow, stones thy bed, is more in the natural order. The tired body finds the stones but the hand does not. It is well to make a good clearance of stones from the natural hollow you have chosen. A goodly stone may help at the head, but the best pillow is generally one’s pack, or one’s boots with a softer covering.
If possible, it is better not to settle down to sleep on sloping ground—for you slide all night and may slide into a much worse position than that originally chosen. In the mountains, where there is little level ground, it is better to seek a hole or a hollow or a natural shelf or recess. If you have to sleep on the edge of a precipice, it is as well to choose a place which has the chance barricade of a tree or a bush or a rock. Tramps are much afraid of rolling; but if proper precautions are taken one can sleep even where the eagle builds.
In the valleys, it is well to avoid sleeping too low. Inviting dells are often covered with but a thin carpet of sun-dried earth under which is bog. Marsh damp creeps upward in the early hours of the morning, and you wake in an unpleasant fog. Insects and reptiles abound in such places, and a bad night with them may spoil a good day.
There are so many ideal spots for sleeping the night, and they are so diverse that it would be folly to catalogue or to enumerate. You see them as you go along. You get into the habit of spotting them. Even in the morning you remark as you go along: “Ah, a good place for spending a night!” It is a little like choosing villas in a locality generally agreeable. One has this point, the other has this special convenience.
The view counts for a good deal. Night is a visit to the opera. You want to see all the stars; you want a good stall. The views of the landscape, of the trees, of the sky—these are charms of residence.
You suit yourself regarding shelter from the wind or exposure to the wind, southern aspect, and all that. Some like to lie in the wind, others in the calm. As regards aspect, it is not where the sun shines at noon that interests you, but from what gap it dawns. Moon aspect also is not an inconsiderable matter.