We were rudely awakened around 2am by our first up close and personal wild life experience on the trail last night. I heard a scratching noise and turned to see a gallon ziploc bag that we had garbage in disappearing from the head end of the tarp, just about 2 feet from my head. I also saw a grey appendage or something or other in the misty moonlight grabbing said garbage bag. I began to bellow very loudly at the intruder and it dropped the bag and scurried away. Katie went out quickly and saw the culprit. It was a big fat old racoon. It didn’t scurry too far. We began to hurl insults and sticks at it. I channeled my father from Locust Lake circa early 90s. The racoon watched us and was unimpressed until some of the impromptu javelin tosses almost took it out. Then it scampered up a tree until I kept hurling stuff when it finally ran away for good. That was fun. The rest of the night was uneventful.
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