Bear Tales

[KingFisher85]

I just got done reading Alaska BEAR tales and let me tell you it was good. Now I have to read More Alaska Bear tales.
Here is one story for you.

One of the most severe mailings ever to occur took place in 1950 on the Yukon. Alexie Pitka, an Athabascan Indian, was looking for fresh meat. He'd never killed a grizzly yet.
He managed to wiggle his way throughout the alders until he was 200 yards from a grizzly. As he watched it across the small lake at the edge of a clearing, he was surprised to discover that it was a black bear. He drew a bead and fired, dropping the bear in its tracks. Alexie watched for a minute then fired a second shot over the bear to see if it would react. It didn't move and was apparently dead.
Alexie approached the animal and thoughtlessly leaned his 30-30 savage against a tree. He walked up to the bear which lay motionless on its side. When he was within 10 feet of the creature, it sprang to its feet and charged. Alexie felt a dull, jarring sensation.
Later on he opened his eyes, but he was in a fog. Things were blurry and unclear. Where was he? What was that above him? It was furry and smelled rotten.
Vaguely, he started putting two and two together. It was a bear standing astraddle of him. He was lying on his back, the bear's face a foot away from his -- though Alexie was faceless What should he do? He remembered his knife and debated trying to use it. Alexie figured he and nothing to lose and slowly reached for the handle and drew the knife from its sheath on his belt.
Pitka pointed the blade upward and thrust with all his strength. The bear didn't flinch. Alexie alternately blacked out and jabbed the blade into the brute's belly; warm blood flowed over him. Realizing his helplessness, he finally decided to talk to the bear with his native way.
He told the bear to go away and he wouldn't hurt it. He blacked out, and when he came to, the bear was gone. Sometime later, Alexie heard the black in the distant brush, roaring in its death throes.
Alexie had trouble seeing, but he knew his only hope was to make the 10-mile down river trip to the camp where he'd left his family. He began crawling the half-mile to his boat, praying as he went. He constantly wiped the blood from his one good eye so that he could see.
Since it never reaches total darkness in Jun that far north, he didn't know what time it was; but he continued to drag himself through the brush, pushing with his knees and toes and pulling with his elbow. At last, totally exhausted, he reached the bank where he'd left his canoe, but he couldn't make it out.
He dropped into slumber. When he awoke, he looked downstream but saw no boat. Then he looked upstream and saw a blurry object. Pitka couldn't tell if it was his canoe and was too tired to crawl to it anyway.
He thought it was nighttime as it started getting cold for the second time since the attack. He had not eaten or had a drink for 36 hours. Alexie wanted a drink. He wanted to reach his canoe and get his cup.
Gradually he fought his way along the bank toward the blurry object, hoping it was his canoe. After what seemed like ages, he reached the object; it was his craft. Alexie tried to drink water but there was no mouth to put it into. He couldn't get any water to his throat. Beside himself with frustration, he cried out aloud and prayed for help.
Nearly 55 hours had passed since his encounter with the bear when a friend of Pitka's arrived. He paddled up to the hapless man on the bank and was followed by Alexie's wife and daughter in another boat. They managed to get Alexie's back to Kaltag and on to Tanacross. Doctors were amazed that he was alive.
His face was pretty much gone. The right side had been bared of flesh -- cheekbone torn away, eye ripped out and the nose gone, leaving on cartilage. Part of his left cheek was gone and his mouth was mangled, the facial skin hung below his chin like a ghastly, red beard. Only three teeth remained in his jaw.
Alexie pulled through; and after plastic surgery and months in a hospital in Seattle, he returned to his Kaltag home. He was more fortunate then some.

This story was in Alaska BEAR Tales and was written by Larry Kaniut
I think that every hunter should read this book. Its a good one. And More Alaska Bear Tales is even better.
Now I want to hear of a few bear tales from you!

[GutshotApe]

KF85 - I've read that book and it has quite a few stories that will make you think twice before getting off the road in Alaska.

I've never been attacked, but here is a bear story for you:

When I lived in Cowlitz County I went grouse hunting one September afternoon on the hills east of I-5 just north of Kelso. Walking down a gated, hardpacked dirt logging road thru nice 2nd growth timber. Wasn't making any noise - just slowly walking along. Heard something up ahead and off the roadway to the right 50 yards ahead. Continued approaching slowly, the brush thick right off the bank so I couldn't see very far ahead. The noise, a sort of scratching/scraping sound, getting louder. Slowly I drew abreast of where the noise was coming from and there, about 10 feet below the road was a big buckskin oldgrowth stump about 6 feet high - and in front of the stump, with his back to me, was a full grown adult black bear that had to weigh 400 pounds. It was tearing the stump apart to lick up ants and ant larva. I wasn't hunting bear, was armed with a .410 pump with 7 1/2 shot. Not exactly bear medicine. I didn't know whether to slowly back away before the bear detected me, or to stand there, or what. I decided to stay put and if the bear turned and attacked, I'd pop it with the .410 in the eye and hope for the best. But, the bear saved me from finding out what the little shotgun could do. It must have scented me because suddenly it dove around the stump and headed downhill as fast as it could run, brush crashing all the way, without a backward glance.

Did'nt get any grouse that day but had a hunting experience I'll never forget.

[KingFisher85]

That's a good one GutshotApe
I also should have put one of mine up.

I was out for a day of trout fishing up in the woods be hind the house in some old beaver pond. I heard something coming thought the brush. It kept getting closer and closer till it came into sight. A good size black bear, 15 yards from me on the other side of the pond. All I had was a little 3 inch buck knife so I was not about ready to find out what my knife could do. I did not even move. I don't even think I took a breath. Next thing I knew is that the bear took off running. Running away from me. Thank God. I went back home right after that.

[skein]

Here's a story from Keta's country. No wonder he carries a .416 as a "varmint" rifle. These big bad boys love deer, gut piles, and hunters - not necessarily in that order. When they hear a gunshot they figure "soup's on!"

The story out on the internet isn't completely accurate, especially the part about the bear charging. But, hoooobooooy, what a moment in time! For the real story, follow the link. (Thanks, Myles)

http://www.adn.com/outdoors/v-akcom/...p-787512c.html

Big_Bear
Bear_paw

No thank you.

Skein

[ 11-27-2002, 11:02 AM: Message edited by: skein ]

[tailchaser]

My uncle is a surveyor in Alaska and recieved a medal for saving two people in a Brown Bear attack while on the job. I'll try to tell it as good as I can.

There were three people, my uncle, another surveyor and a female student intern from Colorado State surveying in heavy bear country in Alaska. They were 9 hours boat ride from the nearest civilization. At the end of the day they were all coming down off of the mountain they were working on, the guy (don't remember his name) was in front about 150 yards from my uncle and walked out of the brush inbetween a sow and two cubs. He was instantly pounced by the sow and was being ripped to shreds when the girl saw the scene. She started screaming bloody murder so the sow dropped him and jumped on her. My uncle was carrying an .06 and was running instantly towards the commotion. He got within sight and fired one shot into the air. But the bear didn't stop grappling the girl. The next shot hit the bear and he dropped her and started charging him. He fired two more times and finally dropped it. However, at 25 yards the bear got up (with one shoulder blade completely shattered) and started charging again. With his last bullet he dropped the sow at 5 yards!! The last shot severed the spinal cord right behind the head. He can't even recall where he was aiming so it was incredibly lucky. The two people were still alive but badly injured. They recieved 1100 stitches between the two of them. The guy lost one eye as a canine from the bear punctured it as it had his head in it's mouth. My uncle said the worst thing waiting for the helicopter was when the wind would blow it would make the bears hair move like it was still alive. He didn't have a single bullet left.

Our whole family was invited to the white house for him to recieve a medal by the Secretary of State. I still have the letter from them and the story that was published. He was also on When Animals Attack a couple of years ago. He's a true alaskan and his best outfit for the interview from them was a nice pair of overalls!!! At least he trimmed his beard so it was a little above his waist. Gotta love the alaskan's.

tc

[Myles]

Sorry Skein but here's the real story. It's amazing how fast the story takes on a life of it's own.

Here's the article...

http://www.adn.com/outdoors/v-akcom/...p-787512c.html

myles

[GutshotApe]

Here's another bear tale about a guy who thought he was about to be eaten:

Many years ago I worked on Weyco's 4-man forestry crew in the Toutle and Green River area NW of MTStHelens. One of our crew was a guy who read too many bear attack books or something because he developed an obsession about bears and the possibility he would become a meal. This is spite of the fact that even though we were behind the locked gates of a 400,000-acre tree farm all day monday-friday, we rarely saw a bear - like maybe one a year. This guy kept complaining and wanted to be allowed to pack a .44 mag. Well, that was the last thing the rest of us wanted - this guy wasn't the most stable individual to begin with.

One day we dropped him off at the top of a 5-year-old clearcut with the plan for him to take reforestation compliance plots on a particular path down the hill to the road at the bottom. Two others of us would parallel his line. The crewboss was to pick all of us up when we finished the run.

After dropping off the bear believer and one other guy, the crewboss and I drove down to the bottom of the unit, parked where the rig wasn't visible, and hiked over to where our buddy was to come out. When we heard him approaching we waited until he stopped about 50 yds away and began measuring a plot. At that point we made growling noises and thrashed the brush. Didn't take much - our pal dropped his clipboard and plotstick and took off running for the road. After letting him cool his heels on the road for 1/2 hour we picked him up and his eyes were still like saucers :shocked: .

He never figured out that he'd been duped - and altho he whined about bears from then on even worse than before, he never got to pack his hogleg - at least, as far as we knew he didn't.

A good friend of a frend of mine from Sitka saw a small brown bear when he was deer hunting and set his rifle down to take a picture of it. The bear charged him and started chewing his leg. He stuck his camera in the bears face and 'flashed" it. This scared the bear and it ran off. He spent several days in the hospital recovering.

[J.Slay]

My friend was just out this year and had a run in with a fairly big black bear over in the John Day area. He was bow-hunting for deer in a meadow, and went in at 2pm and got down in a grove of young pine trees in this meadow preparing for the evening deer to come around. He was lying on his stomach when he heard a little rustling in the distance behind him. Figuring it was a bird or a porcupine...he did not move. but then it started getting a little louder and closer, so he thought he had better postion himself to get a look at what was gettign closer. He was in full cammoflauge (sp?). He said he got to a point of where he could take a look over his shoulder, and when he did he said he almost let out a scream because what he saw was a big black bear coming right down his line. He froze for a few seconds, but the bear was still coming towards where he stood. So, he decided to stand up and let the bear see him, but it was not until about 20 feet until the bear took notice. My friend said he could barely muster cocking his bow, even though he knew it probably may worsen the situation. Then he let out a little noise and the bear finally saw him, froze, took a few steps back, but appeared to be circling him! Luckily thuogh it did not come back for him. My friend said he had never been so scared.....to which I said, "I am sticking to flyfishing!"

[tailchaser]

Since we're on the subject of black bears I've got one of those. My buddy called me on an early afternoon saying he shot a large bruin that morning and needed some help packing it out. I absolutely hate dealing with wounded bears so my first question was "are you sure he's dead?" He guaranteed me he's down and out. I asked him if he had approached him or not but he told me he rolled it with a .300 mag and it didn't move an inch for 1/2hour. It was down in a canyon so of course I had to be home when he called.

Anyhow, we get to the scene and guess what, no bear. :whazzup: We had a good blood trail but it went through the blackberry brush in the tunnels I love to be in only being able to see 10' or so. Of course I forgot my pistol at home, but he was packing his right? Wrong, forgot it in the truck. [img]graemlins/stupid.gif[/img] So here we are in some thick cover and I'm eying every tree around to scurry up and he's talking to me. I look down to see a big black paw reaching for his back leg. I let out a squeal and head up the nearest alder. He does the same and now we're treed by a bear that's mad as all get out and trying to climb it after us. Fortunately he was badly hurt and couldn't do it. But he growled and hissed at us for over and hour. I was doing the same to my buddy in a tree not far from me giving him every cuss word I could think of. [img]graemlins/icon_argue.gif[/img] Finally the bear meandered off a little and he asked me to go to the truck for the gun. Yeah right. I was doing just fine in that tree feeling real close to a tree hugger. He finally got to the truck and the rifle and finished the bear. I waited in the truck for a long time before he apologized enough to make me go back down to help. From now on I watch from a distance until the bruin is officially down and out.

tc

[Norm]

I've run in to a few bears over the years, non were as brave as this one.

It all started on a hot August day my first archery season. Me and Wild Dan were hunting elk up near Saddle Mountain. Now Wild Dan had archery hunted some in his home state of Idaho, but It was a first for me. It was Sunday afternoon and we had hunted all weekend without seeing any critters. We drove along a logging road and spotted some fresh tracks between some decade old re-prod and some heavy timber. We decided to split up and and make stands until dark. I made a stand near the big timber and Wild Dan headed into the re-prod. After a little cow calling a little rag bull comes into view about 30 yds away. I called him a little closer and shot him at eight yards. Talk about beginners luck.

I wander down the hill to find Wild Dan to get some help tracking and gutting my kill. We find the little bull about fifty yards from where I shot him. He was in a big hole, legs folded under him in a thicket of devils club. We couldn't roll the elk since he was at the bottom of a big V legs down. We didn't have much equipment and there were no large trees around us so we fashioned a crude sheepherders winch out of some parachute cord and some big limbs. Wild Dan commented about how handy a come-along would be as we strained to get the elk lifted enough to gut(this is a important point later on). We pushed, pulled, and propped it up with sticks so we could get it raised enough to gut it and lighten the load. It was kind of like having it up on a car hoist, you hope it doesn't fall while your underneath and it gets pretty messy. About dark we managed to get it gutted and cut into pieces. I drove my old P.U. Up a skid road to get it with a half mile of the elk.

We began to pack the elk up to the truck, it's dark by now and the terrain is littered with rotting slash piles. We are constantly tripping on and falling through rotting logs and sticks. Around midnight we are covered with blood, sweat, and really tired, but only one more trip remained. We took a break by the truck and heard something moving around in the brush nearby. A little startled, but figuring it was a coyote I started the truck to scare it away. A few minutes later it's back, we could hear it, see the brush moving, but can't see it. It was little closer than the first time. We banged on the truck and threw a few rocks at it and it seemed to go away [img]graemlins/stupid.gif[/img] . We quickly head out (with lantern in hand) to get the last of the elk. We get back to truck and started loading the elk in. We had left the quarters out to cool as much as possible. We get about half the elk loaded and our little friend comes back, except this time we hear snapping teeth. No growl, just a couple of pops :shocked: .

Being out in the dark, smelling just like a dead elk, and armed only with a bow, with a friendly bear nearby can be a little unnerving, even to us brave types . We start the truck and open the passenger door to hasten our escape if our friend gets any braver. We quickly load the rest of the elk up with our friend watching from a nearby alder thicket. Ocasionally we could see it's eye's. As we finish loading we here it moving closer and both make a bee-line for the cab and dive in. I land halfway in the drivers seat wrong side up with Wild Dan and lantern on top. We got into the cab and had that door closed in 0.2 seconds. With my head on the floor and the bright lantern light, I spotted my come-along. "Hey Dan, I just spotted my come-along under the seat, boy that would have saved us some time". I can still feel the sole of Wild Dans boot pressing against my neck :grin: . Some things your better off keeping to yourself. [img]graemlins/stupid.gif[/img]

Tagster,
File the front sight off of your pistol.

[Tagster]

Keta, that is a good idea. I carry it in a fanny pack style holster so all I have to do is pull the quick release zipper and the pack falls open exposing the pistol that is velcroed to the hard side of the fanny pack. Seems to go quick, but, haven't tested it being chased down by a bear...

Thanks, Tag

[Cohodependent]

Several years ago while living in Alaska I was fishing on Clear Creek off the Talkeetna river in July for kings. Following the advice of many freinds that are all native Alaskans I had my shot gun with me. It was a cheep Mossburg that came with 2 barrels. I had the short barrel on it and had removed the plug and filled it with sabot slugs with one round in the chamber of 00 buck. I always laced little jingel bells onto my shoe strings and had never surprised a bear although I had seen lots of them. I left my partner at the hole he was fishing and hiked about a 1/2 mile or so up the river and found a nice hole. It was not long before I had a nice king on the bank and was playing catch and release when I heard some one coming through the brush. Well it was not my buddy, but a large adult male brown bear. I have to say that the hair on the back of my head was standing on end. I reached back with my left hand and grabbed the barrel of the shot gun and just waited to see what he would do. He looked and me and I looked at him for what seemed like an hour when he finally walked down to the river about 30 yards from me and sat down and started looking for fish. I started to relax and decided what the hell and reeled in and made an other cast. After a while the bear made a leap into the water and caught a fish. I about wet my pants and started shooting. He had caught a nice king and sat back down and started eating. About that time I had a bite and set the hook! FISH ON! Well when I set the hook the bear jumped side ways and watched me. I got the fish in when I released it, the fish swam upstream right by the bear and SPLASH the bear had the fish. He ate that one as well. Before long he noticed the fish that I had on the bank next to me. It was funny. He would stare at the fish and then look at me like a begging dog. It was as if he was saying, "wow, nice fish". I felt like saying, oh, you like that. Well if you want it you can have it. I walked about 10 yards down stream away from my fish and the bear walked over and picked it up, walked back to his spot and began to eat it too. Well, after that I was feeling pretty comfortable, well as comfortable as you can get in the situation. Any way, now I started concentrating on fishing and not so much on the bear. We spent the next several hours sharing the same hole. He ate every fish I caught and he caught a several of his own. After a few hours we both heard some one coming through the brush and we looked at each other knowing that one of us was going to be out numbered. It ended up being my buddy. As he was coming out of the brush I signaled him to freeze. He looked at me like I was nuts when I pointed at the bear. His eyes got as large as saucers and just stared. I was not sure what was going to happen, so I droped my rod and pulled the shot gun out just to be safe. The bear decided that enough was enough and lumbered away. My buddy started asking all kinds of questions and we walked back to camp. All in all it was one of the best days fishing I have ever had. I did not keep a fish that day, but what the heck. It was one of those days that I will remember fondly for the rest of my life.

Well, that is my story. Sorry to so long winded...

[nerta]

:grin: :grin: :grin: Keta I'm not sure that Tagster knows why you would file the front sight from a perfectly good pistol.. But I see he carries it in a very handy place.

Tagster'
Not having the front sight hanging up when you pull your pistol out of where the bear crams it will save you a pain in the @$$ :shocked:

45ACP in better than nothing but not much better. 12 gage hard slugs work much better.

Most man bear conflicts usualy end up either a draw or with a hurt/dead bear. I never had a close call, but I was always "Bear Aware" when in the woods.

[Tagster]

Now I understand...

Man, that can't be fun.

:smile:

Tag

[ 11-27-2002, 05:19 PM: Message edited by: Tagster ]

[Tagster]

I have no desire to hurt/kill a bear when I am just out fishing or playing in the woods. I hope that it never happens, maybe now I am not as ready as I thought that I was...

I always thought that a .45acp would take down most anything if necessary. At least the black bears that we hve hear in Oregon.

I certainly don't want to be wrong...

[KingFisher85]

These are some good stories. Lets hear some mroe.

A good 12 ga with slugs is the best bear gun out. Thats if you are just out hiking around.

[fishwhenican]

I took my son on a juvenile spring bear hunt in the Minam unit several years ago. We wern't having too much luck in spotting any bears so we moved over one drainage to the Lostine river canyon. The next morning we hiked up the canyon a little way and started to sidehill into the wind. We found fresh sign right away and walked slowly sidehill on a very well used game trail. Several hundred yards later we came to a fork in the trail, my son said "Dad I think we should take the lower trail", I said " Lets take the upper trail because the lower trail just goes down toward the river and the road". He decided to take the lower trail for just a little ways to look things over. We hadn't gone 15 yards when I saw the back side of a bear going up the draw ahead of us. I whispered down to my son "BEAR", as my son scrambled up the hill to where I was he spooked a bull Elk in the bottom of the draw. I said "There is a bear up there, lets go!" He said "No dad that's an elk"
I said "There is a bear in front of the elk lets go!" We ran about 5 steps when suddenly the bear runs around the corner, on the same trail as us. 5 feet behind him is the elk both running flat out, the bears ears on layed down flat on his head. My son shoulders his rifle, but doesn't shoot. I am thinking do I need to take his rifle before the bear runs us over? But it is too late they are too close, when suddenly the elk skids to a stop 20 yards away. The bear at 10 steps from us slides sideways and jumps onto the side of a tree. My son thinks he has run past us down the hill, I say SHOOT HIM!!!! he lifts his head and now sees the bear on the tree and shoots the bear. The bear falls off the tree and takes off down the hill I told my son to shoot him again, but I didn't have to, his second shot takes off the top of his heart. We sit down to try to stop shaking and make sure the bear is dead before we go down the hill to where he is laying.We look over at the tree the bear jumped onto and just beyond it the elk is still standing there. I guess he was either saying thanks or waiting for thanks (you can't use dogs they don't say anything about using elk). I ask my son why didn't you shoot ? He said " All I could see dad was bear/elk/bear/elk/bear/elk in the scope and I didn't want to shoot the elk." Kids you tell them a thousand times and they never listen, but I guarantee my son will never be walking through the woods with his scope set higher than 3 power ever again. The view at 13 yards of a bear is all black on 6 power. By the way it was a very nice bear (#2 juvenile record at 19 5/8" at the time), and a story he will never forget.

[Tagster]

Two springs ago, my wife and I took our new Jeep up Sawtell road behind Molalla just kind of out sightseeing and enjoying the day. We dropped down this steep incline and saw a small lake on the side of the road. I think that it was Emerald lake. I wanted to see if it held any fish so we parked and walk down to the lakeside. As we were walking around the lake we came upon a patch of some sort of berry bush. Well, just as we started to walk around it, I heard a grunting sound. I wasn't sure if I was hearing things or not, but pretty much hoped I was. I looked back at my wife and she was frozen in place with a wide-eyed look of fear on her face. She slowly raised her arm and pointed at a small gap in the bushes and I could clearly see two bear cubs. I very quietly told her to turn around and walk back to the jeep. Apparently my voice spooked the mama and she started grunting louder and sounded like she was more getting more aggressive. I am not a wildlife biologist, nor a bear expert, so I don't know if that was normal or not. All I know is that I was scared ***tless. We turned around and slowly walked back to the jeep and got the hell out of there. Although, I have to admit that when we were in the jeep and I knew that the bear hadn't followed us, I pretended that the motor wouldn't start :grin: !

We didn't have anything on us that would've helped us if that bear had attacked. Next day I bought a big can of bear repellant and a Sig Sauer .45 ACP. Hopefully we will never need to use either of them, but I will not be caught unprepared again.

Tag

[ 11-27-2002, 01:01 PM: Message edited by: Tagster ]

[Nookie Monster]

When camping in bear country, never sleep with bacon on your forehead.

[Beer Waggin]

Cool story Coho! That would be a day no one would forget.

I have a couple too.
First one’s a hunting story…..
We were deer hunting up in Ukiah a few years back, working a long draw that we called the “Hole”. I think “Hole” is self explanatory, so you can imagine the terrain. I was the lucky buck that got to go down to the bottom and up the other side, as it was fairly open and only one guy needed to be on that side. My little brother and one of my buddies were on the other side and my Dad and another buddy were at the top end doing the easy thing.
We get about half way through this hunt without seeing anything when all of a sudden I hear the loudest crashing I’ve ever heard. I looked across the draw and see a smaller bear running up the hill right in front of my hunting partners. I wasn’t about to shoot, mostly because I didn’t know their exact locations and it was better than 200 yards through some nasty old growth. I yell “Bear!” Only to hear my brother yell back, “No @#$%!” he was a bit taken by the incident and I think he had to stop to clean himself up. I hear my partners conversing on the other side of the draw when I see a big bear heading in their direction (imagine ticked off momma bear). I yell at them to let them know that there’s another one coming. Momma puts the skids on about 50 feet in front of them and gives them a nasty look. I hear my brother and buddy over there arguing, “You shoot it!” “No, you shoot it!” Back and forth they go for a few seconds before momma decides to head up after her cub. Needless to say my buddy who was up the hill doing to easy thing had watched momma and cub playing with an old stump not 20 minutes before the whole incident. He had seen the cub head in our direction and just thought those guys are really in for it. Being up hill form us, he heard every word we said and was laughing hysterically as he knew exactly what had happened. He had saw momma tear off just as he heard the cub heading up the hill.
Hearing my brother and buddy argue over who was about the shoot that bear was probably the one of the funniest things I’ve ever hear in the woods.

The second one’s a camping story I’ll never forget.
I was about 6 years old and Mom and Dad were the outdoors type. Dad had one of the Country Squire station wagons; you know the ones that had the wood paneling one the side (real cool Dad!) and a 15 foot Reinell boat. We were headed up to Spirit Lake for a long weekend of camping and fishing. (For those of you not of the Northwest, Spirit Lake is on the now famous Mt. St. Helens) We put all of our gear in the boat and launched at old man Harry’s lodge and headed across the lake to one of the boat in camp grounds. That night we were all snuggled into our big arse tent that the old man had erected in stylish fashion as always. Sometime after dark, I hear my Mom wrestling my Dad awake (the old man could and still does sleep through just about anything). Mom says that she hears something outside the tent. The old man listens for a few seconds, grabs his recently purchased .357 mag pistol and pokes his head out of the tent with a flash light in hand. He turns back and says “Stay hear and don’t come outside the tent!” My brothers and I, being a bit new to this type of predicament, listened to Mom and clung to her as tightly as we could. (She now says she wanted us close so she would have something to throw at the bears if they entered the tent). A few minutes pass and we hear a loud clanking outside, then the pitter patter of a few paws past the tent, and then some people talking outside the tent. My Mom yells for my Dad, and he tells here everything is ok, just a couple of bears. “Just a couple of WHAT!?” my Mom says.
Needless to say, we lost all the Cracker Jack’s that night. Thank goodness old Harry was able to restock our stash the next morning. The park people came by the next morning, only to tell us that the bear thing happens every couple of weeks. Mom suggests they post a sign and says a few other words that I wasn’t allowed to say back then to the park guy.
Mom and Dad still have the cooler with the teeth marks on it and to this day she will not allow the old man to throw it away. Mom cried the day the mountain blew her top. It’s one of the places I hope to be able to camp with my children some day, although it will never be the same as it was during the summer of 76.

[KingFisher85]

good story NorRivDave