How many of you have wanted to live out a horror movie? Go camping with your friends; get a little cozy with your girlfriend, only to be dragged out of your tent by your ankles. I’d think most of us would say yes (as long as more than just the virgin survives). Well, that was what the Great Horror Campout (GHC) promised during its first year.
The year was 2013, and seven friends and I decided to go camping. However, this was no normal camping trip: this was a 32-acre, 18-and-over, interactive horror camping adventure. This was unlike any other haunt I’d done previously. While most haunts are linear with confined spaces, the Great Horror Campout was an open-world. You choose where you want to go and if you wanted to go at all. But to entice campers out of their tent and into the Hell Hunt, SCAG (Shit Campers All Get—basically the rewards of the hunt) was placed all around the campgrounds. This ranged from easy level 3 items, like used condoms found on the floor of the trailer park, to rare level 1 items, like the severed head in which you had to impress the Voodoo priestess to earn. Further, those campers that wanted to win had to study the dossier, a two sided document sent out the night before. This provided a map and clues on how to survive the monsters because each monster required a unique strategy to get by and collect their SCAG. Combine all this with the fact that all you have is a flashlight to guide you in the dark, and you have the makings of a truly unique and wonderful haunt.
The camp started as all horror movies do—peaceful. They served us dinner (which if you’ve read any other review, people said was the worst part), the counselors (severely disfigured hillbillies) introduced themselves, and we settled into the tents (four people per). No monsters were seen yet, but the sun was still up. But as the sun set, the anticipation grew, and people began to line up. There were two areas—the Hell Hunt, which contained five distinct areas, and the Homestead, a trailer park that our dossier warned us was home to The Hook, the plastic faced killers, and chainsaw maniacs. So of course we lined up at the Homestead first.
We stood in line, waiting for the hunt to begin, joking and laughing. Our counselors came over, and teased us of the dangers that were soon to come. But we had no idea that the seemingly simple-minded counselors would be the first to turn on us—their demeanor changed in an instant as they quickly threw bags over two girls’ heads, brought them to their knees, and bound their hands. They then marched them out of line and into a large cage in the center of the haunt. As I had not had any experience with extreme haunts at this point (haunts in which you can be grabbed, bagged, and moved around), the fact that someone could throw a bag over my head at any point and take me to a cage was terrifying. Our actions had consequence. And this was all in the area we thought was safe! We quickly learned that we needed to watch our back, or have a friend do it for us.
When 9PM hit, the homestead opened—a large obstacle course of climbing through cars, tires, campers, and trailers. The ground was littered with blood, used condoms, and toe nails. You needed your flashlight to find these items, but watch out because a bright light is an easy target for monsters in the dark. We learned this quickly when a big chainsaw-yielding killer grabbed one of our friends with his flashlight and pulled him out of view. Where’s Scott? How the hell do we get him back? Will we see him again? None of us knew the answers, and our only choice was to keep going without him. Losing a member of our team was scary, but losing your whole team must have been much scarier for him. The Homestead ended with a killer instructing me to break a life-like dummy’s finger, and then the killed cut off the finger with large shears as my prize.
Next, we entered the hell haunt and headed to Pleasant Point, home to the Moth Men and their 9-foot tall cocoons. These moth men stood in silence, wings closed, with a cut-off face daring us to grab it as our prize. Some of the moth men were fakes—and we could grab the face safely—but some were real—and the minute we reached for the face, their wings would open and close around you, trapping you in an uncomfortable embrace with these demons.
With a face in my bag, I headed to the labyrinth: a convoluted maze with a deadly game of red-light-green-light. The Chupacabra roamed these halls and would only attack if they saw movement. Stay still and you live, but move and you will be grabbed and taken to their den. This was a really cool gimmick as they would get in your face, stare right in your eyes, try and smell your fear, and then disregard you, passing you by. This up-close-and-personal aspect was really unique and frightening. And since this was a labyrinth, if you chose the wrong path, you would have to backtrack and face the same Chupacabra all over again. I was lucky enough to find my way to the center of the maze, knelt in front of the living statues, and was granted an audience with 3 Cenobites straight out of HellRaiser. “What is your Pleasure” they demanded.
Pain.
And Pain was written upon my forehead in blood. Only then did a panel on the floor open, revealing a small crawl space. I entered on my hands and knees, and began to crawl through this tunnel filled with bugs and a well-hidden monster in all black. Easily one of my favorites and one I was hesitant to do again.
Bigfoot Country contained some of the scariest looking monsters. Bodies littered the floor, and each had their bowels pulled out, ready for you to roll up your sleeves and stick your arm into the thick blood to break off a rib as your prize. It helped to have a buddy watch your back as it was easy to get grabbed by the creatures as you were elbow-deep in someone’s stomach. Tons of trees made this one easy to get lost, and easy to run into the Yucca Man while running from Bigfoot. This was a fast paced area where you grabbed what you could and ran.
The Pope Lick’s nest was a short area for the truly brave. Bathing yourself in blood protected you from the onslaught of the Pope Lick. This required a full dunk in a tub of blood, so prepare to be bloody. Covered in blood, I stood in front of a gigantic mama Pope Lick as a three foot tall baby danced around me, but sadly, she still would not give up her fetal grub to me.
Finally, the ritual was a dance party with some fantastic zombie and Voodoo dancers. Prove yourself to be one of the best, and you were rewarded with the severed head. Displease them, and you were placed in one of the zombie’s coffins. I can’t dance, so I was quickly grabbed by a zombie and stuffed in an already too small coffin. He demanded I hand over my entire SCAG bag to him and he’d release me but I refused. He latched the coffin shut and left. After a few minutes he returned and demanded it again. But I refused again. Finally, the third time I refused; he didn’t latch my coffin and walked away. I kicked open the lid and ran, not looking back.
These were the areas of the Hell Hunt, but that was not all that was going on. Finding all the SCAG required looking everywhere, including a creepy white van driving around with “Free Candy” written across the side. We needed their candy, so campers chased after this van. However, the doors opened and they grabbed my buddy Matt, threw a hood over his head, and drove off. We didn’t see him for a good two hours after that. When he did arrive, he had a few “Lost Child” posters for us and stories of how they poked his belly and asked “How much do you eat, Tubby?”
By 4AM, things had settled down: the movies were still going, but the hell hunt was closed and people were returning to their tent to sleep. But this was all a part of their plan. At around 4:30 am, loud metal music filled the air, and every monster—from counselors to clowns on motorcycles to the toilet faced leech girl—returned to terrorize those who dared to sleep. They tore our tent down and pulled us out by our sleeping bag. It was a very memorable wake up call. But in the end we survived, and were served breakfast in the morning. At the final ceremony, the people with the most SCAG were awarded the title of Hellmaster.
As it was their first year, there were some bugs to be worked out—mainly that the SCAG was not replaced as the experience continued, which led to exploring areas later in the game that had no items to be found. Later years changed this; notably, this past year had players participating in events for items—no more “easter egg” search. Furthermore, the location in 2013 wasn’t perfect either as it was lit by the LA city skyline, removing some of the immersion. This was also changed, with 2014 offering multiple locations across Southern California, and 2015 reverting back to one location: the old LA Zoo. This was darker, but more spread out. Even at three years old, they are still working on finding their place and style.
In summary, this haunt played like a sandbox game: it was open-world and non-linear; it gave players who wanted a high score the motivation to go out, interact with the monsters, and collect points; and it added an extreme-haunt-like feature where the monsters can grab you and make you “lose a turn”, which added weight to your choices and movements. The rules were simple, but by making it a game, it elevated it beyond a normal haunt by giving you something to lose (SCAG, time, or your friends). This all made for a competitive, strategic, and meaningful experience.
I focused my review on the 2013 Great Horror Campout (their first year) as in my opinion this was close to the perfect blend of game, extreme haunt, and horror movie. There was something so magical about exploring desolate areas, being hunted by freaks looking to bag some fresh meat, being woken up to the chaos of motorcycling clowns, or seeing a monster made of meat wandering the dining hall. We never quite knew what was coming next, or what the monsters would—or could—do. As the Great Horror Campout has grown in popularity, the increase in people has resulted in more lines, and more mini-games to break up crowds. This changes the dynamic, making for a more fun group experience, but removes a majority of the terror, the fear. I am glad that a haunt like this exists and has grown to what it is, but it does leave a gap in the community for a haunt in the woods, tailored to a smaller crowd, where laughter is stifled and isolation surrounds you, and every mistake is repaid by a hood over your head and a cage to call home.
