I'm happy with my camera however do your research as it may not be right for your needs. (That's a disclaimer.)
You just have no idea how deliberate I can be when it comes to parting with filthy lucre. Research hardly covers the subject. I buy stuff to KEEP.
There are places I don't stay. Is it spirits? I've no real idea, but there is a soft little voice inside of me that I generally pay attention to. Particularly the farther I get from civilization.
I have one favored camping spot that I tend to go to whenever I'm in the area (say 200 miles-it's that good) that gave me quite a fright one night. I heard the forest service gate squeak open during the really dark part of the night. I laid there on full awareness and I heard it again. I made sure my pistola was at hand and slid my boots on.
It was a yearling elk that didn't know how or when to bugle for a female in the rut. It was a pretty pathetic noise. But he was practicing up for next year, I think.
Forest Service land around here is generally open to camp on, and depending on fire restrictions, you can gather dead fall wood for a campfire. Wood supply is one of the requirements for really good camping for me.
There is a forest (scrubland of around 120x80km) in outback New South Wales, a place called The Pilliga, that is reputed to have a ghost that people see at night...This bag lady used to live in the scrub. One night she was hit by a truck and killed. Now people swear they see her at night sometimes, her ghost. I've driven through a few times, day time and night, and it's a bit spooky. Day time is ok night time just leaves me with a weird feeling.
I don't know if it's because I know the story or because there's something odd there. All I know is that I would not want to get a flat tyre or break down there at night.
When I first started coming here there was an old Mexican crone called 'the Goat Lady' living up the big wash here. She was a pretty mystical person that raised goats and apparently her entire living came from them.
In '80 an F-5 crashed very near her place. The do gooders got involved and got her placed in a nursing home where she died shortly after. There's a funny spot in the wash to this day (it's surrounded by a golf course now). It just feels funky when Sam and I walk through. I can tell you for a fact that he stays closer than normal for a ways...
We bought a house where the owner was born and died 92 years later. We had a friend that swore that she saw her. I know that we shared our plans with her and used what we thought would be her wishes as we renovated. I had no problem with her.
I have a few supernatural stories I could tell also, although I'm not sure hive is the right place. Maybe someday. It all makes me feel pretty uncomfortable, but it's something I live with so I sort of used to it. Not sure it's something I'll share though.