It was the first time that I had ever done camping where you didn't bring your car, and I was a bit nervous. But DW (not yet DW) was experienced.
Just a couple months after we started dating, in 1989, DW packed up her camping gear and headed to Northern Ontario to plant trees near Geraldton. For about six weeks, she lived out of her tent, far from civilization.
Only, it really wasn't that secluded. We were just separated from our car, across a small channel in Georgian Bay. We were in a national park that saw plenty of visitors. How bad could it be?
For the most part, it wasn't. This was back in the days when I actually enjoyed camping. But before, I never had to worry about where I stored my food at night. There were no bears on the island but there were pesky raccoons. We just had to make sure that we kept our food in a secure container.
And we had packed a large cooler that took the two of us to carry. We each grabbed a handle and, with our large backpacks that carried our tent, sleeping bags, mattress, clothes, and cooking gear, we left the boat that had transported us from the mainland and trudged to a spot where we could set up camp.
We hiked, took lots of photos, ate, and relaxed.
Except, on our first night, when we were awakened in the night by raccoons, trying to get into our cooler. We had stacked our two backpacks, which were quite heavy, on the lid. The lid also had a latch that was not easy to open, but those pesky rodents are quite persistent.
When I heard them, I yelled, which seemed to scare them off. For a short while.
On their second attempt, they weren't as dissuaded as with my first warning, and I had to unzip our tent and flash a light, as well as yell at them. That seemed to keep them away a bit longer.
Some time later, DW and I were awakened by the sound of scrape... scrape... scrape...
I opened the tent door, shone my flashlight, only to see the largest raccoon I had ever seen, trying to drag our cooler away from the site. Both backpacks were still on top.
I tried yelling and shining my light, but the creature kept yanking on the cooler, slowly dragging it away, so I got out of the tent and spread my arms wide, roaring like a monster.
The raccoon stood tall on his hind legs, turned to face me, his forearms also spread wide. He hissed at me.
Now, it's at this point where I should state that I was only dressed in my underwear. It was summer and it was hot. I was only armed with a flashlight that was about the size of a disposable lighter. What was I going to do?
I called his bluff and started making my way toward him, trying desperately not to show any fear. If he made a move for me, I was going to run right into the bay, which was right next to our site. But the raccoon reluctantly backed away.
DW and I decided to move the cooler under the picnic table, which is what we should have done in the first place. With our backpacks stuffed between the lid and the underside of the table, it wasn't going to go anywhere and there was no way the critters were going to find a way to open it.
Only two more nights until the boat would take us back across the bay and to our car. It would be decades before I would camp without a car again.
Happy Thursday!
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