Stories from childhood
We used to go camping in Mineral King, when it was a game reserve next to Sequioa National Park. It was a two-hour drive up a little tiny twisted road. We would go for a few weeks every year, just prior to Labor Day (cuz that's when it snowed and the road closed for the winter). Talk about heaven! It was a nature wonderland. Only problem was that the troublesome bears in the National Park were shipped off the to game reserve. So there were bear. There were also rangers. Wonderful rangers who got to know us since we were there so long every summer. Mom would make them homemade ice cream and we would listen to their stories. Sometimes we even had stories of our own ...
One year I came up later than the family (just after I graduated high school, I took a job as a summer camp counselor and joined the folks after the camp season ended). Dad had set up a "bear line". It was a two-rope system. One rope was about 1-1/2 feet off the ground and surrounded the camp. The second rope was a couple feet higher, around the camp. There were bells attached so when an animal disturbed the rope, it tinkled. The heights were set to about where they would stand and walk, or go on all fours. We were there so long that we really made it a home away from home, too. For example, Mom had a sewing machine set up in the tent! There was also a rope, about 7 feet off the ground, that went above the picnic table (where we played cards every night until the bears ran us out), across to another tree. We used it for hanging laundry and lanterns. There was an oven set-up in the campfire ring. See? Home away from home.
Anyway, one day a ranger brought a new guy over to introduce him to us (and get some ice cream, of course). The veteran ranger was explaining about the bear line and that they let us keep it because we were at the bottom of the campground, where all the bear trails intersected. Throughout the explanation, the new guy kept glancing at the laundry line. 7' high, remember? My mom, bless her heart, just leaned over and tugger at his sleeve. When he turned around, she quietly said, "My husband is from Texas". That's all. It was enough.
PS - I see that I thought about my Minderal King stories once before, a long time ago! http://maedb.livejournal.com/505293.html
One year I came up later than the family (just after I graduated high school, I took a job as a summer camp counselor and joined the folks after the camp season ended). Dad had set up a "bear line". It was a two-rope system. One rope was about 1-1/2 feet off the ground and surrounded the camp. The second rope was a couple feet higher, around the camp. There were bells attached so when an animal disturbed the rope, it tinkled. The heights were set to about where they would stand and walk, or go on all fours. We were there so long that we really made it a home away from home, too. For example, Mom had a sewing machine set up in the tent! There was also a rope, about 7 feet off the ground, that went above the picnic table (where we played cards every night until the bears ran us out), across to another tree. We used it for hanging laundry and lanterns. There was an oven set-up in the campfire ring. See? Home away from home.
Anyway, one day a ranger brought a new guy over to introduce him to us (and get some ice cream, of course). The veteran ranger was explaining about the bear line and that they let us keep it because we were at the bottom of the campground, where all the bear trails intersected. Throughout the explanation, the new guy kept glancing at the laundry line. 7' high, remember? My mom, bless her heart, just leaned over and tugger at his sleeve. When he turned around, she quietly said, "My husband is from Texas". That's all. It was enough.
PS - I see that I thought about my Minderal King stories once before, a long time ago! http://maedb.livejournal.com/505293.html