I'm really tired. Just got back (3 hours ago) from a four-day, three-night, tent camping trip. We took the boat to Blue Mesa. We go every year. This is the fourth year; with a fifth year we don’t count before we were married.
This was the first year we were attacked in the night.
Let me start by sharing a story about a friend of mine who just went to Yosemite. Very aware that Yosemite is Grizzly Bear country, she found herself at an outhouse by herself. Thinking fast, as any good outdoorswoman would, she kicked the outhouse door before walking in. A thrashing animal sound, answered her kick.
Her call of nature (okay, she HAD TO PEE) was so great, she decided to confront whatever was thrashing about. She threw the door open in front of her, standing safely behind. (Not like a Grizzly Bear could just throw the door aside and EAT HER!!)
Luckily, no bears bounded out, only goats. Yes, goats were taking up residence in the outhouse. My friend did her business and then locked the intruders out. As she walked away, (gloating at her quick thinking) the goats were butting and ramming the door trying to get back into the home they were so rudely evicted from.
With this story in mind, plus the fact we live in Mountain Lion and Bear territory, I was more than a little panicked when awakened to an intruder in our campsite. Sunday night, our first night, I awoke to the sounds of plastic rattling and feet tramping about.
I thought my sister or her boyfriend were up. I was wondering what the hell they were doing waking me in the middle of the night. After reflecting on the fact I never heard the zipper on their tent, I decided to investigate. I unzipped our tent and looked out. It was pitch black, I saw nothing, but continued to hear the sounds of trampling and rummaging.
“Is anybody up?” I asked timidly into the night.
“Nope, we’re not up.” My sister answered from her tent.
“WADE SOMETHING’S OUT THERE, GET UP!!” I shouted at my sleepy husband.
“What? What?” he answered groggily.
“It’s a raccoon,” my sister’s boyfriend responded. He was quicker to the flashlight than my love, and he flashed his light on the BIGGEST RACCOON I HAVE EVER SEEN!!
The little devil was sitting on our camp table devouring pistachios as fast as he could. Apparently, New Boyfriend left the nuts out. As a punishment we made him chase the little devils off for the next two nights…
Let me just say, raccoons are very similar to Gremlins. We could hear them snarling and growling from our tent as Boyfriend, tried to chase them off. They're dirty little suckers who got everything muddy, from the table, to the towels, to my hat sitting on the table, to the boat, which they apparently jumped into as Boyfriend tried to evict them.
The second night, after chasing off a herd of raccoons, I heard Boyfriend retreat back to his tent.
"One of them bit me," he said.
"Nuh, uh..." sister responded.
"Drew blood," he muttered.
Boyfriend had to leave one night early, jumped on his Harley with blood dripping from the Coon attack. Hubby prepared himself for the Raccoon battle our final night. Funny thing was, without Boyfriend around, no Coons showed up. I seriously think they were there only to mess with him…
Hubby says next time he’s packing a 22.
Boyfriend Beware!!
No comments:
Post a Comment