Raccoons, Please Enter Here
At my camp, there are sleeping quarters and a commissary.
Though the commissary was within earshot of my tent, security was minimal. Groceries were kept in plastic containers, and the tent was zipped.
Plus, at night, I sleep VERY soundly.
The first night at camp, I did awake to the sound of sniffing and heavy breathing outside. Yet, it was not enough to rouse me. Back to sleep.
The second morning, guess what. Trash was strewn everywhere. Darn if raccoons didn't break into the commissary and steal my hamburger buns and generally make a mess.
The devils didn't open the zipper either. They used an endowed seam ripper for more convenient access.
The third night, heightened security was in effect - weight on the grocery lid.
It was no match for the smart buggers. They scored two bananas AND another bag of buns.
The fourth night, top security:
The ruckus of the chain woke me this time. The persistent little turds had a bag of pretzels halfway pulled out of the container scattered everywhere. They scurried off, scared by my illuminated nakedness.
After three or more rounds of "get the hell outta here", and back in the sack, raccoons wanted the rest of the pretzels and ended the retreat.
They growled at me; and six feet away, I threw shoes at them.
Finally, I employed chemical warfare spraying so much bug spray around the commissary everyone was sorry. The sun rose about an hour later. It was the last night at camp.
Now that the tent is repaired, I have but one request should it ever happen again:
Why would you want to camp where you did? There is nothing of importance or fun there?
But, more importantly, why would you want to sleep in a tent, when God sent people to build lovely motels to sleep in?
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be glad--very glad--that your interlopers were not of the ursine variety!
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Yes! Fortunately for us, bears live in northern Minnesota.
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Eureka is a nice little town. I was there today.
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i hate camping.
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