A rustling in the leaves grew louder in the darkness beyond our campfire. Just moments earlier, I had been relishing the peace and quiet of our secluded campsite in Horse Branch. The sound of cracking branches suggested the creature was big enough to be a bear.
A brutal workweek had come to an end. With waning energy levels Friday evening, I rushed to get packed up with Uwharrie. Fighting back second thoughts about an overnight trip, I quickly brainstormed a pack list and destination to A.) get away from the buzzing lights and noise of civilization; B.) relax comfortably in the woods; C.) travel light; and D.) move a substantial distance on a network of scenic trails.
As twilight faded, I polished off a second and last Old Chub. All objectives seemed met with one exception: objective B did not stand for bear. Uwharrie let out a guttural growl, which seemed to steer the unwelcome beast away. Well aware that the paltry food bag above our bivouac hung precariously in jeopardy, I somehow slept soundly and awoke at dawn to an undisturbed camp.
With memories cast upon a distant
SAGE, we stopped for a coloramic breakfast atop Snooks Nose. With seven years of additional experience, I wondered if I could finish that ambitious loop today. The distant baying of dogs reminded me that this Saturday marked the opening of Pisgah Bear Sanctuary to hunters. Energy levels seemed low, but I was thankful to be here on a relatively peaceful morning.
Destinations were scaled back accordingly. Green Knob Lookout marked the turnaround. We made our way downstream along Newberry Creek. Large pick-ups stuffed with fluorescent orange heads crept back and forth along the gravel roads. We let the Fudds have their way with the forest and returned home well aware that our nighttime visitor was now most likely dead meat.
Sunday, between obligatory chores and homework, we snuck out: this time up to the Overmountain Victory Trail and MST. Pictures taken of and by mammals not hunted...yet:
