|
I remember looking at my little LED illuminated alarm clock through tired, sleepy eyes. It
was 12:00 midnight. Whatever had just awakened me, had me thoroughly agitated.
All alone, I'd spent two grueling days hiking for miles up and down steep canyons and ridge tops looking for mule deer. I was camped at Big Bear Creek, near Blackhall mountain, which is in the Snowy Range of southern Wyoming. The mule deer season was to start in two days and I was trying to locate the animals before my hunting companions arrived from New Jersey. I needed rest and was in no mood for this porcupine, or whatever was making all the racket.
I grabbed my flashlight and knife (the only weapon I had in the little tent with me) and reached
for the tent's zipper.
I quickly zipped opened the door, ran through the nylon cooking shack I'd attached to the tent, and outside, yelling like a mad man. When I got outside, I pointed the flashlight in all directions, but saw nothing. I righted the cooler, straightened out some of the other disturbed gear, and went back to bed.
Bang! There is was again.
I look at the little clock: it's now 1:00 AM, just over an hour later, and this stubborn critter was back at it again, only this time with more gusto. I tried to ignore it for a while, but when the tent started to shake, I once again grabbed my knife, threw the zipper up, and charged out of the tent. Once again, my flashlight revealed nothing. Only a quiet, eerie silence. By now, my mind finally started to wake up. How could this be a porcupine? They simply can't move that fast. I would have seen it. I grabbed my keys, removed my 7mm remington magnum from the truck, and took it inside the tent with me. All was well for the rest of the night.
The next morning found me in a small store just across the Colorado border near Walden, buying
more supplies. I overheard the counter clerk talking about the bear infestation at, you guessed it, Big Bear Creek Campground. I had not hunted the area in years, and apparently, the closure
of many of the roads in the area had drawn bears into the area. I had hunted there for four years straight in the late 70's, and bears were just not an issue back then.
With one more night to go before my companions arrived, I knew I had to clean up the camp. I
cleaned all the pans, put all the smelly foods away in air tight containers and locked them in my trooper. I went to sleep that night with thoughts of running head-long into the arms of a black
bear. I had been luck indeed. The only thing that probably saved me, was my wildman act. I imagine those bears probably thought that I was indeed one crazy, possibly rabid white man.
Bears are growing in numbers all over the western states. In Southwestern Colorado, hunters
are now required to use bear-proof containers for all food items. To give you an idea of their incrediable strenght, black bears near Yellowstone are noted for their ability to break into locked
car trunks. If they can get just one tooth or claw under the metal edge, they'll pry it up and open in seconds.
Therefore, even if you plan to lock your food up in your vehicle, you'd better use air tight containers.
In heavy bear areas, food should be hoisted up into a tree as high as possible, or better yet,
strung between two trees, since black bears can climb. In grizzly country, make sure the tree is large enough so it can't be mearly pushed over my the bears. I height of eighteen or twenty
feet is best.
Some woodsmen make platforms for their food, especially if they're placing the food early as a cache for later hunting or emergency survival. By placing a few sections of stovepipe around the base of each leg, they twart the bears' efforts to climb the tree. All greasy pots, pans, rags, etc., should be cleaned and all traces of these odors burned. Bloody clothes, gloves, etc., from a kill, as well as the meat itself, should be treated just like your food and hoisted well up into a tree and well away from your camp!
|
