Or, Reason #431 why I hate backpacking.
As I started up the Baldy Bowl/Ski Hut trail on Mt Baldy, I had big dreams. A fiendish bear - a creature who is now my sworn enemy - would soon dash those dreams. And, you'll never guess how. No, really, start guessing now. You won't get it right, I guarantee.
I intended to camp out either on the summit or about a mile past the Ski Hut where the trail (briefly) levels off. There's also some shade there. The next day, if not already at the summit, I would hike there and return down the Backbone and the road. If possible, I wanted to do Thunder and Telegraph too.
I had, as usual, started a few hours later than I'd intended to and I was also carrying more weight (and bulk) than I should have. And, I don't just mean corporally, I mean in my pack. I should have spent more time testing things out rather than just throwing some things in the pack the day of. I have an old sleeping bag that, even in a compression sack, takes up a lot of space. I have a newer jacket that also takes up lots of space. And, since I thought I might need paracord for my trekking pole tent, I brought extra of that. Like over a hundred feet over two spools. I also had a bear canister with more food than I needed. Plus, an inflatable sleeping pad that I didn't use. Plus, an umbrella that was handy in the first 1/2 mile of the hike but useless after that. And so on and so forth.
Anyway, while I got to the Ski Hut over an hour before it started to turn dark, I decided to stop there due to the proximity to water and an outhouse. I was worried about the trekking pole tent failing as it had done the only previous time I'd tested it for a car camp at Chilao. Getting in and out of the tent, or stretching too far towards either end, resulted in a pole shifting and the tent collapsing. While there have been leaking-related issues with the tent (a River Country Products Trekker 2), I haven't had it in the rain yet. And, this time, despite a sustained but fairly mild wind, there wasn't an issue with the poles. Also noteworthy is that the pole I used in the front has lost its metal tip. So, I wrapped the line that comes with the tent around the plastic part. Despite not using the eyelet on the strap, the tent held up. It could also be that I've lost weight, making tent ingress and egress less of a Wide Load situation.
Anyway, about an hour after turning in, still unable to sleep as usual when using a tent, I see the shadow of a large arm sweep over my tent. A bear had grazed my tent. I said "human" and it had heeded my command and moved on. I had bear spray with me in the tent but I wasn't about to jump out and use it. I'd left my pack outside, opened in case any of the forest residents wanted to inspect it, and I'd left the bear can about 20' away. I soon heard Mr Ursa trying to break in to the bear can using a rock or something. And, no, I wasn't about to take a look either: I never even saw my new archenemy.
In the morning, I was a little surprised to see my pack on the ground since, AFAIK, I hadn't left anything in it that a bar would want. But, there it was, and the bar had rummaged through it. I took a look and I was surprised at the surgical nature of the search. The pack was unharmed, and it looked like everything else was unharmed except for a few Walmart bags I'd used for storage. Those had been ripped apart with large claws. I assume I'd falsely assumed that the bear could distinguish between actual food and something with no nutritional value. I am, of course, no expert, the bear might have just been training for the TSA, or it was attracted by bags that had once briefly contained food, or maybe it was a pair of socks that I'd hand washed with some detergent a couple days before. I also had to do some searching for the bear can, but found it about 40' downslope. I'm partly heartened by another oddity: a red loop of paracord that had been still held together with a sticky paper wrapping just like I got it from that store - was about 20' upslope with the wrapper partly ripped. I couldn't figure that out. Was it the wrapper? The sticky part? The color? The smell of the cord (I can't smell it but I'm sure bears and dogs can, so maybe it means something to them.) Or, maybe the bear just saw it as a chew toy.
Another party that had arrived after it turned dark weren't so lucky: the bear took their food. It was, needless to say, irresponsible of them not to use a bear can, and I assume bears make the Ski Hut a regular stop due to similar previous incidents.
To me, this was, at this point, just an annoyance. And, as with many of the other things I do, an embarrassment: I should have made sure nothing scented was in my pack. Assuming, of course, it wasn't just a standard inspection on the bear's part.
My plans still active, I packed up and started to leave. Have you guessed the issue yet?
Not to keep you in suspense: I went to the stream to fetch a bag of water to use with my Sawyer Squeeze. You fill one of their plastic bags with water, attach the filter, and - as the name might indicate - you squeeze the bag to push the water through the filter. Which I did, only to find water coming out of an unexpected hole in the bag.
The damn bear had only damaged a couple plastic bags (no loss), and the water bag I needed to filter water (big loss). I had a spare bag, but it was one of the few things I hadn't brought. And, to make it even worse, some unfiltered water had got into the bottle that still had some water in it. Without potable water, I was forced to return to the trailhead. Thankfully it's not that far; things could have been a lot worse.
I don't know if all of this was the bear's idea of a joke or whether it was paying me back for not feeding it, but the next time I run into that bear we're going to have words.
UPDATE: I forgot to note that I was carrying two phones in the hip pouches of my pack. Thankfully the bear didn't step on them.
However, it did step on both of the eyeglass cases I had in the pack (one clear, one sunglasses, both prescription). Thankfully the glasses are OK too.
As far as the question whether this was a bear or a fox or wolverine or something, they don't have arms larger than mine. And, I saw the shadow of a large arm over my tent, followed by a swiping sound. So, it was either a Bigfoot, a feral hooman, a CHUD, or a bear.
