Cranks My Tractor

Published: Thursday, August 22, 2013 at 09:19 AM.

Finally the colonel and I decided we would try to get to sleep, he hung the plastic bag of trash on a pole very close to the side of the tent that I had pushed my air mattress up against. In the back of my mind, I knew this was not a good idea.

My air mattress and I were positioned up under the inside of the tent such that the tent material was on my back and a window flap was in my face.  I kind of liked it.  I wanted to be the last one to fall asleep in the event the night air made me snore like a freight train.

The trash bag was hanging on a pole that was about two feet from my head through the paper-thin tent wall.  I thought about getting up and taking the trash bag to the nearest dumpster, but it was well past midnight.

As I was enjoying my air mattress, I thought I heard the sound of someone walking in pea gravel. At first, I thought it was from another campsite, but then remembered we were pretty far from any other folks.  The rustling of pea gravel continued and I was wide awake.  I checked the other fellows to see if they were moving around in their sleeping bags.  They were not.

I was trying to rationalize who was outside strolling through the pea gravel not worrying about me inside the tent with my eyes wide open.

Then I could hear tearing and ripping sounds…

It was the trash bag and more than likely a bear. Being up against the inside of the tent, I started feeling something brush up against me.  I thought to myself, “I do not want to be mauled by a bear while camping in a state park.”



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