Vandalism

Not a whole lot of people go where I go or stay out as late. I love wilderness areas or national forests where you can head anywhere you want. I quickly get myself off the beaten path to explore. I didn’t see anyone all day long. On the hike back I went ahead and broke a cardinal rule in the wild: Don’t play loud music. I turned it up. I was getting all into it. Clapping my hands. Singing along like I should be considering a new career. Then all of a sudden my hands were tied. Literally. The elastic ends of my winter gloves twisted together during my performance. I was handcuffed. Guilty as charged.

Sometimes you simply can’t help but be captured.

I got back late. The stars were out in full force when I finally reached my dispersed camping spot. Something else was too. As I approached the back of my car, I saw something big, something black, and very furry nestled in behind my rear tire. Granted, I hadn’t moved the car for a couple of days. I also hadn’t been in my tent since predawn and I was the only human around. I’m sure it appeared abandoned. My nosy neighbor and I had a little standoff. I’d flash my headlamp on it and it wouldn’t move an inch. Then I’d look away and he’d make some progress. But I wasn’t looking away for long. I was damn well making sure his fuzzy butt made its way far away. Especially before I was about to open my trunk.

Then I had an idea. I grab my car keys. Hit unlock. Damn. Too far away. I inch closer while continuing to hit unlock. Finally. Chirp. Chirp. Lights flash. This chubby thing starts moving and most casually walks away. No rush at all. Not a care in the world. I watch as he crosses the road and makes his way up a hill. Mission accomplished.

After pulling off my waders and getting my PJs on, I walk over to my tent. I’m welcomed by two brand new little holes chewed into the mesh door. Awesome. Animals over here were taking over my stuff like they owned it. It didn’t end there. Maybe 10 minutes later, right as I’m about to go to sleep, I hear that damn thing honking somewhere outside my tent. I figure he’s trying to make its way back home, but I don’t care. I’ve been vandalized. The hell with this. I yell. Loud. Angry loud. Then I hit my head on my lantern. Lights out.

Damn vandals. If we don’t push back, nature will take over the place.