The fastest human on the planet is not considered that fast in the animal kingdom.
We're not bad. We're just not good at running. Now, I'm no Usain Bolt so I know I have a disadvantage compared to the above chart.
Last week I was out canoe camping with Russell, my boyfriend. Canoe camping is where you pack everything into a canoe, paddle out to a remote-ish campsite, and spend the night(s) there.
View from our campsite. Across the lake on the left point is where two guided groups were camped (this is important for later in the story).
Another view from our campsite
We heard the animal climbing the tree towards our food. Now, let me just paint the picture a bit more for you a little bit here:
Kitchen area with the two barrels and tarp. The big tree is where we hung both barrels off one of the high limbs coming off to the left. The bottom of our tarp is tied to the canoe to protect us from the wind. Behind the tree in the bush is where we set up our tent...it's far enough back that it's not in sight.
Get the picture?
When we heard the animal climbing the tree, Russell jumped out of the tent to yell at it and scare it off. Only...that didn't work so well. Instead, we could hear the animal emitting loud hissing from the tree.
I threw on my shoes and scrambled out of the tent to stand with Russell. When a predator gets aggressive towards you, it's best not to be seen looking all small crouched down in a tent! So together we stood to face off with the hissing creature (I was terrified! If I hadn't just gone to the washroom less than 10 minutes before I think I would have peed my pants).
Because of the hissing, Russell voiced my thoughts: "I think it's a cat." And when we say cat, we don't mean...
But rather...
We started yelling for help, but it was hard to imagine others would be awake to hear us, let alone get up in the middle of the night in the rain to paddle across the black lake to our aid.
After a few minutes of hissing and green, glaring eyes, we saw that it was not a cat, but...
Yep, a bear. A mean little black bear was hissing, huffing, and posturing at us. I felt only slightly better that it wasn't a cougar. Cougars are terrifying. Black bears are less so...usually! This one was quite the exception. About 175lbs of pure nasty.
We backed slowly away from the tent until we reached the end of the clearing. Remember that lovely set-up we had done? This meant that the barrels of food the bear was trying to get was set up directly over the canoe and between us and our only escape route. Never again will I put any food between myself and an easy escape!
After we backed off, the bear returned it's attention to the food barrel. About 15 minutes after I had first gotten out of the tent, the bear managed to retrieve his prize and dart into the woods. At which point Russell and I grabbed our rain gear (at my insistence...it was raining quite steadily and I just had on my pyjamas. Adrenaline only keeps me warm for so long) and quickly dashed to the canoe and out onto the water.
Once there, we came across two guides who were paddling towards us on a rescue mission. It turns out the group across the lake was doing a guided tour. When the two guides had heard us yelling they decided to come and help (although, as neither Russell nor I wanted to sound panicked when facing off with a grumpy bear, the guides had mistakenly presumed our calls for help were non-urgent, and finished off such important tasks as brushing their teeth before coming to our aid).
As a group of four, we returned to our camp to quickly stuff the rest of our gear - one barrel and the tent - into the two canoes and set out back across the lake to join the other group's camp. We learned later that the bear had run off with our food barrel (rather than our barrel of cooking equipment, lifejackets, and other miscellaneous items), so we were grateful for the offer of breakfast the next morning. We got to the guides' camp around midnight, one short hour after the entire ordeal had started.
And yes, I did fall asleep that night. I felt much safer surrounded by a large group of other campers and once the adrenaline had eased out of my system it was easier to let fatigue win. If we had taken the time to pick out a nice flat tent site rather than one that sloped horribly and caused one to constantly slide down the hill, I think I would have slept even better. But that being said, sloped campsite was right next to the fire surrounded by lots of other campers, so it felt safe.
After our refugee breakfast, Russell and I headed back to our campsite to see what we could find. Due to Russell's fantastic tracking ability, we were able to find the remnants of the barrel about 200m into the brush.
Every scrap of food was gone. The area reeked of rotted meat and bear. I had my camera, but we didn't linger to take photos (just in case Mr Bear was feeling a bit possessive of his food cache and returned to chase us off) but stuffed everything into the barrel and brought it back to the main campsite for a salvage report.
Salvage report:
Barrel - punctured with teeth. But not completely wrecked, as the bear worked out how to open it. Still, it's no longer water proof and ergo ruined.
Food - gone. Except for some vegetables and fruit, and one bag of what appeared to be untouched Cup of Soup. We threw it all out.
Sandals - intact!
Tarp - intact! But woof, did it stink!
Sunscreen - intact! I believe the bear meant to eat it, but the bug spray can was in the same bag and it looks like he mistakenly bit into that instead. Heh heh heh.
Medications - intact! Mostly.
Toilet paper - intact! But the bag was punctured and we decided to chuck it anyway. Eau de Bear on my butt? I think I'll pass, thanks.
Day pack and water bottle - ripped and punctured, respectively.
Question: How fast can I run?
Answer: Not faster than a bear. Thank goodness I didn't have to put that to the test!
