Sunday, August 2, 2015

Bear Poop and Bear Proof

My big goal of a six month solo backpacking trip not entirely on a well traveled trail looms large. I find it fuels my every move, my training, my weekends and  my other-than-work thoughts. I have so much to learn!

Lucky for me, my journey is about 2 years into the future, so I'll have loads of opportunities to have many many smaller adventures in preparation for my first of what I hope to become regular grander adventures.

This week, I had to be back at work early on Monday, so my jaunt had to be short. I generally work 7 days a week, although on Saturdays and Sundays it's only for a few hours each. Nevertheless, getting several days in a row together for my outings has necessitated some planning. Thus, I run with our running group on Sunday mornings, with the goal of being on the trail by noon. I camp Sunday nights, returning on Mondays--generally by 2pm. As I mentioned earlier, this week I had an important business meeting at 11, so my trip had to be a short one.  I have to hike back Monday mornings from wherever I hike on Sundays, so unless I want to start at 3am (and I'm still a little afraid of wild animals at that time of night) I have to plan accordingly.

I chose the West Fork Campground--a nice 9 mile round trip hike.

I got to the trailhead a bit later than I hoped, around 2pm, unloaded my gear, put on my new hopefully-snake-bite retardant gaiters, which I lined with double layers of duct tape, and set out.

A few mountain bikers were gathered by the roadside. They asked me if I was heading into West Fork, to which I replied in the affirmative. They told me how the trails were severely overgrown, how they'd wound up on the Silver Mocassin trail, and how they even saw bear scat. They warned me that poison ivy was everywhere, then they wished me a good weekend.

Wow. Forewarned, I walked to the next parking lot over where some locals were sitting. An Asian fellow with long black hair and two missing front teeth sat on the stoop along with a ruddy faced fellow I'd guess to be in his early 50's. I asked them if this was the trail to West Fork. After a very very roundabout answer, I still wasn't sure if it was or not, but I figured I'd wind up somewhere. As long as I had my tent, I had a place to sleep for the night. They mentioned something about Valley Forge Campground being only a mile in, then getting on the Gabrielino trail and that would take me to West Fork.

The day was hot, but the trail was all down hill, super shaded and gorgeous. As we'd had 4" of rain the week prior there were lots of small streams to cross. I'd get to practice purifying water, which was one of my tasks for the day.

The cyclists were right. There was poison ivy everywhere. I'd never seen so much of it. Fortunately I am not sensitive to it, and my gaiters kept it off my legs anyway. It was purply red and pervasive.

After about an hour in, I passed the Valley Forge Campground. Nope, too early, I kept pressing on. I passed by what appeared to be some old no longer used cabins made out of corrugated steel. One had been painted a sort of combination of mint and lime green. It was almost entirely underground, save for the roof. I kept hearing a loud odd noise, sort of like pop-gun fire. I stopped and listened--still. I've read to learn to trust your instincts and to pause when they tell you too.

Crack! It happened again! I remained quiet. Was it an animal crackling over branches in the woods? Oy vey! This time I saw the culprit. It was huge acorns falling from the oak tree above the corrugated steel roof. Each time they hit, they made a loud "pow" sound.

I laughed out loud.

The last time I went out in the forest alone I was afraid.

This time I felt no fear at all.

I wondered what it must have been like to live in a place like this.  Frankly, I'd trade it over a house in Beverly Hills any day of the week.

I hiked on, forging a small stream deep enough to test my iodine tablets on. I dropped 2 into the bottle as directed, swirling the mixture over the mouthpiece as well. I sealed the cap and put it back into my back pack. It would be ready in 15-30 minutes. I'd drink it then.

I headed past loads of trees, as the trail wound up and down forging ahead into the great outdoors. Thirsty, I decided to test out my water. It was a bit brown, but it tasted pretty good. I figured if I was going to have diarrhea, I'd just as soon get the party started.

The trail started heading up a bit, then out around into the sun. The trail became more sandy. I passed a sign that said, "Eaton Saddle. Valley Forge". I was perplexed. I'd been hiking about 2 hours now. If I was on the right track, considering my trip was mostly downhill, I should be nearing my destination. But which way?

I still had no topo map, but I had at least ordered them from Sports Chalet. I would definitely have them next time!

I decided that I needed continue on my original course, and I pressed on. Was I on the Silver Moccasin trail after all? That big pile of dung sure looks like bear scat to me. It had to be bear scat, I cannot honestly think of another animal save a horse that could've produced poop that large. It was filled with berries, and it was easily 3" in diameter. I realized I was probably on the same trail as those mountain bikers.

Overgrown my ass! This trail was a breeze compared to what I'd seen last week.

I pressed on noticing blackened trees-burnt by the Station Fire over 5 years back. Their spindly sharp fingers poking through short green foliage fighting to replace their damaged tops. It was starkly beautiful.

After another 1/2 an hour, I realized I was likely lost. I could press on, hoping I'd hit my campground before nightfall, or I could turn back and camp at Valley Forge.

I'd taken an animal trapping class that morning (which is why I arrived so late), and I'd learned a basic clap trap as well as a sling shot trap that hurls your catch into the air tied up into a noose hanging from a tree. I was eager to test them both out.

As that was the real purpose of this jaunt, I opted to head back. I wanted to set a few traps tonight to seal in the information I'd received.

I arrived at Valley Forge campground and was pleased to see I was the only person there. There is something deeply satisfying in being completely alone in the woods. I long to live in the forest. I fantasize about living off the land some day.

I set up my tent. As there was no pouring rain, it was much easier than last time. It went up beautifully. I set about to lay a few traps, but I chose not to bait them yet. I knew this meant I would likely not catch anything, but that was not yet the purpose. The purpose was to ensure I knew how. I set 2 clap traps and one noose trap. I figured I might smash a lizard, as the clap traps were really small, and without bait, I figured it would be doubtful I'd get anything in the noose.


I set about to hang my goodies, which were already in a bear-smell-proof bag way high in a tree--just in case the people-who-made-the-bag were wrong.

I sat in my tent waiting to put on the rain/night flap, looking up at the stars and watching it get dark. The cicadas and crickets started singing along with some weird sounding bird.

I got out my Renaissance Periodization Diet book, which I had on my Kindle, and got to work taking notes.

The next morning, I checked my traps. Nothing! No surprises here. Honestly, I have a pact. If I kill it, I have to eat it. Seeing that it was hot, I didn't want to travel with a smashed squirrel in a bag for 3 hours in my pack back to my car still having zero clue on what to do with it.

No, I'll wait until I know how to preserve it, skin it, quarter it, cook it then eat it before I set traps in which I really plan to get something.

I packed up my gear, wolfed down my breakfast of 3 protein bars, drank a half bottle of Gatorade and headed back. The trail was mostly uphill this time, so I had to hustle to get back on time.

Holy shit! No, I mean literally. There in the middle of the trail was mountain lion scat. I knew it was mountain lion because of the size and the fact that it was mostly fur. I've been studying up on these lions a bit now, and their diet is almost entirely animals, so if there's no fur, it's doubtful it's cougar scat. This was all fur, but it had to be a day or two old. I can't believe I'd missed it on the way in. I wished I'd taken a picture of it.

Crazy!! Last weekend I was terrified of bears and mountain lions. This week they'd both been within a few miles of my campsite within the last few days, and I felt completely at peace.

You never know what adventures the wilderness will bring.


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