I stepped onto the Pigeon Roost Trailhead at 4:45 P.M. on Friday June 25th, 2021. I had no idea the evening I was about to have.
I made it to my campground at about 6:10 in the evening. I was drenched in sweat (it was close to 90 degrees F that afternoon), and ready to rest in the woods for the evening. I set up my tent while listening to an audiobook recording of Tristessa by Jack Kerouac. When my tent was complete I settled in to have a beverage and make myself some dinner. It was a quick backpack meal of mashed potatoes and Spam. I love the single serve portions of Spam for backpack meals. It has a good amount of salt, fat, and protein. When added to a high carb dish like mashed potatoes, you quickly begin to feel like yourself again after eating. The rest of my food (oatmeal and coffee for the morning), I hid out in the woods far from camp so even if a critter finds it they won't associate it with my camp.
After dinner I sat down to write a rough draft of a poem and watch the day turn into night.
Around 9:30 I crawled into my tent to sleep. BUT! But, about ten minutes after getting into the tent I heard a visitor enter my camp. It sounded like a racoon or two, something small looking for food. After about ten minutes the noise went away and I started sinking into a light sleep.
About 11:00 I was awakened by my second group of visitors. From the sound of the footsteps, I am pretty sure this group was deer. They were around for a few minutes, just long enough to wake me up, before they galloped off into the woods.
About midnight I was awakened again. This one scared me. I mean scared me.
The footsteps on gravel were deep. This was a very large animal. A very large animal. And it wasn't keen to leave despite my speaking and noise making. It wasn't afraid of my voice or the noises I made. It looked through my camp for a few minutes and left.
Well, it left for a little bit, but it decided to visit my camp again about an hour later. I heard the same deep, weighted footfalls into my camp. I listened closely to hear where it was at any point, but just when the noise seemed to disappear, the scariest part of all happened. Four distinct sniffs then a pause before another four distinct sniffs just at the rear of my tent. It was sniffing me to see if there was anything (besides me) to eat.
Surprisingly enough, I wasn't petrified by fear. With my wits still about me, I calmly replied to the sniffs that there was nothing to eat in the tent. I then took my two knives and smacked the blades together to make noise. Deciding that nothing in the tent was worth going after, I heard footsteps move away from the tent and, eventually, out of my camp.
I laid back down in my tent. By now it was close to 1:30 a.m. I waited for the loud footsteps to return, but I finally fell asleep and I was able to seep through until about 5:00 a.m. when I woke up and waited for the sky to be light enough to pack up and leave.
When the sun was up, I left my tent to look for my food pack. It was nowhere to be found. Something found it in the night and had a treat.
With no coffee to get me going, I packed up my belongings, strapped them to my back and did the four mile trek to the Trailhead.
David Thornton is a two time national award winning writer, chef, husband, father, and fitness enthusiast.