The Horny Cow
16. September 2007 | en
We all know that a women should be listened to, as we are almost always right. ;-) Well in this case it was the absolute truth. I have a strong believe in my women’s intuition. Whenever I have ignored it in the past it has risen to bite me on the ass. In the case of this night I just had a weird feeling about camping wild. It was the first night we had a chance to camp wild thus far on the trip. So I honestly thought that perhaps I was blowing things out of proportion. The first place we looked at just felt bad. So we continued on. The second place Patrick checked out on foot and declared perfect. To the point where he was willing to drive Jacqueline up a cliff that stood at a 90 degree angle – dirt road cluttered with potholes, small boulders, and other potential deaths to the motorcyclist. I had to walk, as he was sure should I be on the back neither he, nor I, nor the motorcycle would make it back out.
Once at the top it was as perfect as he had said it would be. A field in an open clearing, surrounded by forest in the Tatar mountains, and a view that promised a spectacular sunset and sunrise. Exactly what we searched for when we camp wild. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. I decided to chalk it up to the fact I had not camped wild in over a year, and that was messing with my feelings.
Up goes the tent, out comes the food. I had no sooner torn open my chocolate bar when Patrick declares “I hope there are no bears here.” He had no sooner declared it when we heard a snort, a pant and a growl. My insides liquefied and my stomach slid into my shoes. “Oh F*&K Its a BEAR!” and I jump up and almost crying I beg him to go. Patrick on the other hand is insistent its not. “Maybe its just a mad or horny cow.” Yes Patrick, in the middle of the woods in the Tatar mountains, prime bear country and making noises that a cow with rabies wouldn’t make. When he snorts and snuffs again and I cry BEAR BEAR BEAR Patrick winds up and lets the food fly.
But it gets better. I then want to pack up and get the f$%k out of dodge. Patrick however is thinking that maybe now the bear wont come back. Why waste such a wonderful camping spot. I am Canadian. Terror stories of bears that used tents as trampolines (be these stories true or not) are enough to make me say SCREW that. My description of a mauling by a bear and my tearful insistence that we leave NOW and leave everything we had as well had Patrick almost convinced. That the bear then growls and snorts and is probably on his way to devour us determines the rest and he immediately revs up the bike engine to scare our unwelcome predator away.
That was the fastest time we have ever broke camp.
Schlagwörter:
Karte:
N 48° 12.210
E 17° 17.163
