Well,
here's an entertaining story from this past weekend's solo backpacking
trip in the Tetons. After hiking 6 miles up the trail to the camping
zone where I was all set to stay for the night, I saw that all but two
of the sites were completely snow-covered. Even those two had just a few
patches of grass suitable for placing my tent. After some
consideration, I chose one of the sites and then set
up camp. I noticed right away that a pika kept running to my tent site
to gather grass, while a family of marmots checked out the area for any
possible food. I'd learned on previous trips to be wary of marmots, for
several had once broken into my tent during the day and shredded my
salt-laden shirt and underwear. When the snow is first melting, it seems
they are desperate for salt, even eating the soil where I've urinated!
Anyway, after I went to bed, I awoke to an animal making strange noises
as it entered the tent vestible just six inches from my head, where I
heard it gnawing on my salty trekking pole handle and water bottle. I
yelled threateningly and the animal left, but it kept returning every
time time I drifted off to sleep for a few minutes. Finally, the animal
began pushing aggressively against the tent sides, all the while making
more of the strange sounds. I would awaken each time, yell, it would
retreat, and then I'd fall back to sleep, only to be awakened a few
minutes later by the next round of noises. Eventually, the animal began
pushing more deeply and intensely against the tent sides, as though it
were trying to get in. Finally, while still in a sleepy daze, I heard my
tent rip and saw a dark figure push through the fabric. Instinctively, I
punched it, thinking it surely must be a marmot. "Ow ! "I heard myself
yell after I laid into the shadowy figure; "That hurt!" Switching my
headlamp on, I saw a hole in the tent side in the spot where my salty
hat lay against it. I also noticed that the hat now had a gaping hole in
it!
As I awakened a bit further, I suddenly remembered that
marmots are NOT nocturnal! I decided then and there to investigate the
situation. As I stood up and exited the tent, an animal with gleaming
eyes rushed threateningly toward me, stopping just a few feet away. It
was a PORCUPINE! Suddenly, I realized why my fist had hurt when I'd let
fly a punch! Chasing the porcupine away by running after it with my
pole, I finally caused it to retreat back into the snow. From then on,
it left me alone. I had gotten hardly a wink of sleep that night, for
the porcupine had terrorized me off and on from about 11:30 to 4 A.M.
After the sun rose, I repaired my tent with the nylon tape I'd
fortunately brought, and then quickly moved camp, determined to
understand what qualities I might learn from this encounter. "What," I
wondered, "did the porcupine have to teach me?" I thought immediately of
the fact that I need to take better advantage of my natural
psychological defenses by not being too sensitive to the negative or
challenging "barbs" of others. All my life, I've been too affected by
the opinions of other people. Rather than letting them go too far inside
my heart and soul, I need to set up some "barbs" of my own. In many
ways, I find that - over the past year or so - I've begun to care less
and less about what people think of me. I suppose this is a healthy
attitude for a natural people-pleaser like me! In any case, this crazy
porcupine encounter helped strengthen my own recently-discovered
defenses!
Photo: My porcupine-chewed hat; Grand Teton National Park, WY; July 4, 2014
