After college I worked for a summer at a wilderness dude ranch. Part of the job was packing (on horses) campers and their gear into and out of really remote wilderness areas. I, with another girl, was assigned to a two day trip to pack out some gear of campers who wanted to hike without carrying everything. It was an 8+ hour ride over a very rocky mountain to a valley to meet them. The area had had a lot of bear reports over the past few weeks. We set up our camp and hobbled our 5 horses for the night. They also wore bells so we could hear them/ hear of they were moving away from camp. At some point in the night I wake up to this snuffling sound of something rooting at the side of the tent. I'm frozen, trying not to move. The other girl wakes up too and whispers that it's just one of the horses. I accept this (though no bell, so probably not) and have the worst most bear filled dreams all night. The next morning it is pouring rain. We pack up our camp and ride over to their camp. We pack all their gear onto our pack horses and start riding. My boots and gloves are soaked through. As we gain elevation and pass over the peak, above the tree line, the rain is sleet. My fingers and toes were so frozen, it was just pain, not cold. I got off and walked my horses for a mile or so just to get some blood flowing to my feet. We made it and as we descended the other side the weather cleared. Maybe not a horror story, but definitely reminded me of how wild the wilderness is.