I don’t have photos of this one, but here goes:
In 1974, I was a GI Bill student in Redding CA, with a new wife, an outdoorsy type, who grew up in Westwood CA. One spring break we decided to go camping up at Castle Crags, State Park, to do a little fishing, and rock climbing. Imagine my indignation to find that a camp site was 24 dollars a night. For a broke ass student, on the GI Bill, that wasn’t going to fly. So we drove up a dirt road that went west into the pines, and left the park in our dust.
Going about ten miles in, we came across a spot where someone had dozed a small road, and landing right next to the creek, poured pumice and dropped a rickety picnic table. Looked perfect.
We set up our Jansport Wedge tent, gathered some large pumice stones to make a fire ring (the spot was that new), and made a quick supper of Rice and soup mix, and instant protein. We also experimented with a no-cook Brownie mix, that was semi-ok. Left most of it in the pie pan, in front of our tent.
Being warm, we left the door open like a little porch, and climbed into our bags, which zipped together. This was a nice shake-down for all our new gear that we planned on using later in summer for a long hike in the Sierra.
As it got dark at the forest floor, it was still light in the tree tops. Soon it was dark enough that the night sounds began and we heard a loud scratching and breaking of small limbs.We looked up and around and when I shined a small flashlight (2 AA cells and an incandescent bulb of the 70’s), two eyes reflected back at me from near the tree top, on the other side of our clearing. I couldn’t tell if it was large eyes at a distance or smaller eyes, near to us, just eyes. Slowly it scratched it’s way down, while I was thinking that I’d have to take the packs up to the car, and stow them in the trunk, to keep a marauding raccoon out of them (based on an experience in the Florida Keys a couple of years before). When it landed finally and stood up, it was close enough to see it was a medium sized black bear. Perhaps not a month or so past tagging along with his mother. Big enough to be a serious problem. Crap.
I crawled out of the bed, and took up a couple of pumice rocks and tossed them at the bear, while shouting “Shoo, Get outta here”, and other such choice verbiage.
He scooted off, looking over his shoulder, and disappeared into the night, and trees upstream. Phew.
I crawled back into my side of the bags, while my wife stared at me, asking, “Well, shouldn’t we pack up, and go home?” I said, “Naw, he’s run off.” She shook her head and said, “No, that bear will be back.” In a fateful lack of stupidity, I said “look, I’ll gather up some rocks, and we’ll keep watch, half the night and half the night. You first.”
I turned over, and promptly went to sleep, like an Infantryman should be able to .
The pumice made a nice bed, because I could wallow out my shoulders and hips, and sleep in a custom form fit spot.
Next thing I know Im being shaken awake. “Your turn.”
I gazed blearily at my watch, and could make out that it was midnight.
“Hey, that was only two hours!”
“Tough, its your half, wake up I’m going to sleep.”
So, I spent the night, watching the stars wheel over head, the Dipper spinning its handle, and trying to read my book by a failing light. Occasionally I would look over at my bride, and gaze at her beauty. She was 21, slim, and had beautiful long wavy hair that cascaded over her shoulders, and was now spread in a magnificent halo on the tent flap, while she lay on her back. I felt so lucky in those hours (and still do to this day, some 50 years later.
Gradually, the sky became slightly grey, jays started to flit around and squawk, and the first rays of the sun began to touch the tree tops up the slope from over the Cascades to our east. “It’s morning,” I thought, “and I’m going to bed.”
I said out loud, “Hey it’s morning, Im going to take a nap”.
I turned my face to the tent wall, and scootched down, to get comfortable, my face inches from the tent wall. As I was just about to dr off, I took one more look over my shoulder by twisting my neck, and opening one eye.
Standing there, nose to nose with my bride, was the bear. WTF?
In an instant I took it all in, he was standing with both paws on her hair, his nose down close to her face, sniffing her breath and due to my motion, was looking over at me, over his nose. He took a breath, I took a breath.
In a split second, I spun in my bed, and struck out with my fist, planting a solid blow to the end of his nose. At the same time I screamed as loud as I could, in rage and fury (like a 9 year old girl, I am sure).
The bear sat back on its haunches, sneezing and shaking its head, blowing snot and blood all over the ground in front of him and onto the tent flap.
I half crawled out of the bag, and started throwing pumice rocks at the bear. As you know, pumice weighs nothing., Rocks the size of a softball, were like throwing ping ball balls, for all the terminal effect and flight characteristics down range. They merely bounced off of the bear, while he kept sneezing and shaking his head.
I shouted and banged on the ground, and kept coming out of the tent. The bear backed off, and finally, I grabbed river rocks from the edge of the pad area, started pelting him on his rump, and he shambled back into the trees.
Breathless and panting, I spun around, hoping not to see a mother bear or other partner, but there was only silence. Even the Jays, had stopped their yapping.
Looking at the tent, I realized, NO WIFE!
Did I miss something? Had she been dragged off by another bear while I was running off the first one? What?
I stepped over to the tent, calling her name, I could hear a muffled response. I couldn’t tell where from, but I could barely hear her. Again I called to her, and realized it was coming from our little tent. I lifted the top edge of the sleeping bags, and peered down into the bottom. She was down there, all curled up, looking up at me in a mixture of caution and anger. “Is it gone?”
I replied, “yeah, he’s gone”.She came out of the bag, called me a couple of choice names, and said, “I told you we should have left last night.” She began to collapse the tent, and I began to help. We left in a very, very short time.
Needless to say, I heed her council, since then.