Larry and I take our gooseneck work trailer, put a mattress up top in the neck and sleep in relative comfort. Thursday night I woke to the sound of rustling in the open pavilion nearby. I finally grabbed my glasses and crawled down out of the bunk to investigate. Sure enough, I saw a black bear digging in the trashcan a few feet away. I woke Larry. By the time he got to the door, the bear had ambled down into the yard near another camper. Larry hollered at it, and it left the campsite, walking down the path that leads to the Slate Run General Store. I went out and retrieved our cooler from the picnic table. Two garbage cans were overturned, contents strewn about. It was 2:00 a.m. We went back to bed, though I didn't sleep real well the rest of the night.
In the morning, we learned another chapter. At about 1:45, Larry's brother Don had heard someone digging in one of the ice chests outside his door. The someone was actually the bear, and he chased it away. Evidently the ice chest hadn't been closed properly after the evening campfire foodfest and the bear smelled dinner. The food belonged to Larry's mom. The bear had a feast. It ate her nectarines. It poked a hole in her cookie tin, got the lid off and ate every cookie and whoopie pie. The tin was licked clean, not a crumb remained!
We expected that after such a successful forage the bear would be back again. Larry bought some pepper spray to have on hand. Friday evening Larry and I went to bed around 10. Our kids and their cousins were still around the fire. About 10:30, our son Reuben was yelling outside our door. "Dad! Where is the pepper spray?" Larry jumped down and directed him to the cartridge sitting on the counter by the door and Reuben left. I didn't get up, not wanting to get dressed again.
In the morning we heard the story--a more aggressive encounter than the night before. I wish it were captured on video!
When one of the young women left the fire and went down to her tent, she discovered the bear right by the tent. She ran yelling back to the fire. That is when Reuben came for the pepper spray. With all the commotion, the bear had already gone--temporarily.
About an hour later, after all were in their respective tents, my daughter-in-law heard the bear just outside their tent. She woke Nathan. They, in turn, got Reuben. Reuben chased the bear, pepper spray in hand. As he tells it, the bear ran back and forth a bit, ducking around campers, then headed for the stone fire place located between the pavilion and the cabin. The bear went around the fireplace one way, Reuben went the other, spraying the bear in the face when they met. Reuben says the bear sneezed or snorted a bit, hesitated, rambled along the edge of the bank, then stopped again, this time on the other side of the pavilion near the fire ring. Reuben then picked up a good-sized chunk of firewood and winged it at the bear, giving it a solid rap to the head. The bear then went down the bank, crossed the creek and went up the mountain on the other side.
We did not see it Saturday night.
And that's the story as I heard it!
We did have a good time. All of our children and grandchildren were there. The photo is seven of 17. Larry's mother is on the porch.
The weather was perfect. The creek was too low for tubing, but great for the little ones who could play and wander at will the entire width of the creek.
Levi (10) and Max (8) managed to contribute their specialty again, poor man's lobster. They found about three dozen good-sized crayfish we cooked up and served with drawn butter.
The kids were delighted. I don't care much for shellfish, but Larry said they were good, far superior in taste to crayfish he ate in a restaurant down south, perhaps because these were in a stony river bed rather than mud.
We also saw two eagles, a kingfisher, great blue heron and green heron.
Several of us ran or walked a 5K along the Rails to Trails on Saturday morning.
We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful setting.
-- Post From My iPhone
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