Thursday, August 6, 2009

Camping: A Tail of Suspense

Sorry I've been incommunicado for the past couple of weeks. As my last post explained, I was finishing and editing my novel. Whew! What a relief. Mother-guilt piled up as my daughter patiently endured the frenzy of writing that dominated July. Now I can spend more quality time with her--a good thing, as homeschooling must start up again in about two weeks.

We went camping this month and I experienced two days of no showers, cell phones, or email. It was a great break. We were tent-camping, and on the first night we suffered a paramilitary assault on our camp by raccoons.

At one point, the raccoons pawed at the openings in our tent. This was the scariest moment, when we weren't sure if the intruders might be bears, or even worse, PEOPLE.

Our dog Snow did not make a single peep throughout the march of the raccoons. She remained curled under my blanket, safe from the nippy night air. The only comfort I took in her oblivious doggy sleep was my conclusion that it probably wasn't people pawing at the tent. Snow will usually bark at people.

My husband jumped up and bravely issued forth, gun at the ready. Then he bravely yelled for our other friend to come out of his camper with his gun. (It was about 2 or 3 am.) There was some excuse: when my husband first saw the raccoons, he could only see their eyes, six feet off the ground.

From inside the tent, I heard him say:

"I can see whatever opened our food tote. It's looking at me."

It was as good as a horror movie!

That's when he yelled for reinforcements.

We were all relieved to find out that the mystery invaders were just raccoons who had shimmied up a tree, which is why their gleaming eyes made them look six feet tall.

Any other good camping stories?

2 comments:

Warren Baldwin said...

Great story! When you camp in the Rockies you never know what critter may be sneaking up on you!

Yes, this did make me think of a camping story. My brother and his two boys and my son and I met outside of Yellowstone in Mont. to camp. The boys were in a truck; Bob and I on the ground. Then he told me of a bear killing someone in this park a few years before. I got up and slept in my car, getting a terribly crimped neck in the process. There a few more details, but I may save them for the blog. Thanks for the idea!

Barbara's blog said...

I don't camp any more and never liked it when we did. The most camping I do nowadays is in a clean motel.