Billy Gray Johnson
While we're on the subject of poop.... as a quick aside I will tell y'all the one about encountering a bear up in Russell Field out of Cades Cove, Smokie Mountains. 1971 it was, and all year long! I drove my 1964 VW Beetle from Nashville with my kid bro, Alan. We met up with Hawk Man and Bill Fuqua in Cookeville, and pushed on to Knoxville to rendevous with Henry Benagh. We got up there late Friday p.m. and jumped up early Saturday a.m. to climb a mountain. After a grueling 7 mile hike we settled in at Russell field shortly before dark.
The trail shelters were full of boy scouts so we camped in the open field.... not a good idea.... there were no trees nearby in which to hoist our packs.... and like the geniuses we all were... we plunked down beside our packs. There was a thunderstorm brewing just the other side of Thunderhead Mountain a few miles from us and we got quite a light show. We passed around a jug of Almaden Mountain White Chablis, and then we passed out. I woke up at 3:00 a.m. like I always have, and still always do. I sat up and breathed in the wild mountain air and looked at the billions more stars than you can see from a lit-up urban area.
I heard something go "wuff" behind me and turned around to see a large black bear standing there looking at me from about 4 feet away. I watched it rather closely and I felt alarmed, quite honestly. I could feel my carotid arteries bump against my shirt as my bod prepared to jump and run. But I didn't have to. The bear looked away from me, picked up one of our 40-pound packs in it's mouth and ran off with it like it was weightless. I'm thinking, maybe the god-blessed beastie won't come back. Wrong! Here it came again, got another pack and ran off into the black of night. In a few minutes it came back and got another pack and ran off. Thinks I, this sucks, ya know?
I woke everyone up and they were all really grumpy... thought I was making the whole thing up (who me? make things up?), but here came Yogi back and grabbed yet another pack... and ran off... just like I was saying, know what I mean? There was a shocked moment of silence, then all of us in unison said, "SHEEE-UT!!!" Then the bear came back and got the last pack, and son of a gun, ran off again.
Well there went all our food, extra clothes, Benagh's wallet (of course it would be Benagh's wallet; what a Joe Bitzflick!) We still had some Almaden left so we quickly passed it around before the frickin bear came back and got that, too.
We were not happy campers. Everybody but me crashed back out.
At first light I started tracking the packs down. As the bear ran, things fell out of the packs leaving a trail I could easily follow. I found Benagh's wallet... and his money was still in it! I found his pack later, but it was torn to smithereens where the bear got into his food. It took me a couple of hours, but I found everybody's pack and brought the tattered remains back to camp. I woke everybody up and said, "Hey look, y'all. The bear brought back our packs!" They took one look and said, "Billy, you're fulla poop."
More later, re: Bear Poop
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