One cold evening in September in the Colorado Rockies I made the mistake of eating a bag of beef jerky while laying in my sleeping bag.
What I did that night was a fairly normal occurrence. I was tired and still a little hungry from a long day’s hike. All I needed was a snack to help me get off the sleep. Eating the jerky wasn’t so bad but letting a few pieces drop down in my sleeping bag would later come back to haunt me.
We were on a short weekend backpacking trip to just get out of town and have a little fun. Frank, my neighbor and I were out on our first trip together though I have known him for years. Frank had bought a new tent and was itching to get out and give it a try so I was happy when he invited me along for the trip. I had recently purchased a new Marmot Helium sleeping bag and was ready to test it out.
We were dropped off at the trail head by my wife and off we went to find our weekend getaway. After a good 7 plus mile hike we found our spot near a small stream. We set up camp there and went out exploring the area. After a few hours we got back to camp and built a good sized fire for a little cooking.
We grilled up some hamburgers we had packed along with us and just sat and ate by the fire. Occasionally we could hear noises coming from the other side of the creek. Late in the evening that deep in the woods you will hear all sorts of creatures moving about. Having been an avid backpacker for years I was used to these noises. Frank was a little more unsettled by the noises being out on his first non car camping trip.
Aside from the late night beef jerky craving we both got a good night’s rest. We set out early for a nearby peak which was about 8 miles away. We kept up a good pace and made the round trip much sooner that I expected. As we neared camp we started noticing the occasional white feather floating along in the air and just couldn’t tell what it was from until we got into camp.
As we both made the turn around the hillside we caught a look at what used to be our camp site. Whats left of Frank’s brand new tent was a good 20 yards away from its parking spot from the day before. Hardly any of what we left in camp was still there. We had secured our food in a bear bag in a tree and it was untouched. What could have caused something to do this.
All of a sudden last night’s snack came back to me. Could it have been that and where was my sleeping bag. Frank’s bag was still tangled in what was once his tent. I followed the feather trail across the stream and up the hill. There it was. My new sleeping bag. There was nothing but the skin of it left. We could see the scratch and tear marks all over what was left of it.
We packed up what was left of camp and hiked back down to the trail head. We were lucky enough to get a ride back into town with some day hikers. The whole ride back Frank and I didn’t speak to each other. I know he blames me for the whole thing and I told him I was sorry but I just don’t think it helped.
6 months later Frank and I have gotten back up the nerve to give it another try. This time Frank asked me to bring the tent. We will see how it goes.
