Sizer - Wheres the next shelter?

Copyright 2015 Gary Sizer

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review, without prior permission of the author.

Cover Illustration and Design by Mark Calcagni

Editing by Mark Houser

This book is for Katie. She keeps the wheels on the bus.

CHAPTER 1 | BEAR HUNT: EPISODE ONE

I was licking the last bit of meat sauce from my spoon when the black rock started walking.

The sun had just set on Flower Gap, in North Carolinas Shining Rock Wilderness. With just three days left until I started the Appalachian Trail, this was my final shakedown hike, a quick overnighter to practice with all my gear. I had set up my small tent behind some trees near the white quartz cliff that gave Shining Rock its name. Having hiked six miles already, I still felt the need for an evening stroll in the warm air of the early May evening, so I headed for Flower Gap.

I have wanted to walk the Appalachian Trail from the moment an old girlfriend told me it existed. Wait, wait, wait, Id said. Youre telling me that theres a trail that goes all the wayfrom Georgia to Maine ? No fucking way. Has anyone ever done it all at once? Like most of our conversations from that time, I have either forgotten or buried most of the details, but Im convinced that she told me it would take five years and cost a billion dollars. I must have believed her because otherwise Im sure I would have tried to do it right then.

Flower Gap is especially beautiful on any clear day, but if youre lucky enough to catch a springtime sunset there, youll see an already beautiful spot become something spectacular. As the last bright slice of light vanished below the horizon I turned my face upward. The dome of the sky was a perfect gradient, fading from crimson to salmon to twilight. It was against this purple twilight backdrop that the silhouette of a rock became an actual black bear.

Experienced outdoorsmen will tell you to make a triangle at dinnertime. Three points: one is your camp, two is where you cook and eat, and three is where you hang your food bag. Maximize these distances to minimize your chances of a bear encounter. I had done two of those three things, and now the rock moved. I looked down at the remains of my dinner, rehydrated spaghetti in a foil pouch. Black bears can smell a raisin from miles away; I was waving a beacon: Eat at Garys, open all night. A swift black shadow headed for my pack, leaning against a tree where I had cooked my dinner, about a hundred yards away.

Experienced outdoorsmen will also tell you that black bears are timid, skittish creatures who will scamper away at the slightest noise. Just wave your arms and yell, they say. That bear will be gone so fast youll wonder if he was ever really there. I walked deliberately straight toward my kitchen with as much body language as I could muster. Bear, you are in my house now .

GIT! I yelled. Gwon now, git! I clapped and stomped for extra effect. The bear gave me just the slightest glance, cocking his head as if to say, I dont speak English. He continued, quickly and soundlessly, towards my food. NO! I shouted. Bad bear! That is my food! You get the hell away from it right now! YAAAAAHHHH!!!! Banging my aluminum trekking poles together over my head hoping he might mistake them for extra scary antlers, I arrived at my pack just before he did.

Suddenly the bear stopped his advance. Instead of retreating, he moved sideways, still in an eerily silent way, making a lazy counterclockwise arc and watching as I hurriedly shoved food and pots into my bag. The stove slipped from my hands, making a dull thunk against a rock, and I glanced away from the beast long enough to locate it. The sun had been down a few minutes now, and here in the trees, twilight had given way to dark. I found the stove, bent to pick it up, and when I stood, the bear was gone.

I dont know if bears can smell fear as well as they can smell food. If they can, Im sure my own jittery stank put him off. Outwardly I showed no visible signs of fear, but on the inside it was pure terror. My heart was racing. I took several deep breaths, bent at the waist and wiped my palms on my thighs. That thing was the size of my couch, I thought.

With the stove stuffed into my pack, I was fumbling in an outside compartment for my headlamp when I heard a twig snap. Then a branch, followed by the entire rhododendron bush just to my right, which bent completely to the ground as a humongous black shadow stomped and snorted over it.

I spun toward the sound, not thinking. Goddamn it, bear, NO! I yelled. RAAAAAARRRGH! I flicked my headlamp on flash mode and banged my poles again. Flash. Theres the bear. Flash. Wheres the bear? Flash. Oh shit, theres the bear. Flash. Where the fuck is he now?!

They say that running from a bear may trigger a predatory instinct, causing it to chase you. So I censored every message my brain was sending my legs, and did not run. Instead I calmed my headlamp and backed away slowly, noticing the rhododendrons had bounced back to their original upright position. I cleared my throat. Okay, bear. Partys over, I said in a loud calm voice. This is not me running away. This is me taking my things and leaving. Bye! With that, I stepped backwards onto the trail, a narrow rooty footpath that would carry me the half-mile back to my tent.

Katie picked up on the third ring and greeted me with cheerful surprise. Good morning! she said. I thought you didnt get reception up there.

Yeah, well, Im not up there, I replied.

Oh?

Yeah, I laughed. No. Im parked outside REI. I should be home around lunch. Need anything?

My question was met with silence, and for a moment I thought the call had dropped. Then my wife answered, I dont think so. What do you need from REI?

Oh, just new stuff sacks for food bags. Mine are shredded.

Katie sighed. Aw geez. Was it a bear?

Yep. The score is now: Bear 12, Humans 0.

Twelve? she said. What does that mean?

That means that twelve people walked out of Shining Rock this morning hungry and dejected while Youre at work. Do you have time for this?

I have a few minutes, she said. You okay?

Oh, Im fine. But Im pretty sure its the same bear that stepped on you last summer.

Wow! No kidding?

No kidding. And I got a good look at him too. Got right up in his face and told him you said hi.

What happened? she asked. Didnt you hang your food bag?

The higher elevations in Shining Rock Wilderness are near or above the tree line. Much of the trail there takes you through meadows and over balds where the tallest thing for miles is you, and there is literally nothing from which to hang a bag. The areas which are wooded are mostly rhododendron bushes, some mountain laurel, and stunted pines low enough to be reached by a raccoon on its hind legs; even the tallest ones can be climbed by the laziest of bears. I had camped there numerous times, but always in the winter when all the major threats to my food supply were happily hibernating.

You know how it is, I said. There was a pretty big group of college kids up there too. We all used the same tree. And when I went to make breakfast this morning, all I found was a pile of ripped-up bags and empty packages covered with drool and teeth marks. My food, their food, all of itgone.

Twelve people, each carrying five days worth of food, and all of it now in the belly of a single creature. I have a friend who weighs over 300 poundsroughly bear-sized, in other wordsand I cannot imagine him putting away the equivalent to Thanksgiving dinner for 12 all by himself. Given the chance, Im sure the ravenous bear would do the same again for lunch.