About bears.
I was touring down the California coast last winter, from Arcata (a bit north of Eureka) to Los Angeles. This particular day I decided to ride a double day, covering twice as far as normal. Keep in mind this is winter, so the dark came fairly early.
First it got dark, and I was a bit afraid of getting lost this was not good. Then the route veered into rolling pasture lands. I was born and raised in the city. For whatever reason, an irrational fear overcame me that I would be stopped by some yokel and harassed, or shot at. It did not help my fears when people in pick up trucks came barrelling down the skinny road. Surely, I thought, a drunk would do me in.
Well I got through the farming communities fine, if not a bit mentally fatigued and definitely physically fatigued at this point. About 15km from my destination I felt an intense drag on my rear wheel. This concerned me, and mentally stressed me out even more because it significantly reduced my speed and I was unsure what the cause was (the next day a little spoke tightening cleared it up).
Now the route turns into the woods, with steep declines. I go to where I think the destination lies, and find nothing. I backtrack a bit, and still do not find where I am supposed to be. I know the park, Samuel P. Taylor State Park, is nearby, but for the life of me cannot find it. At this point I am getting rather cold, concerned I will have to stealth camp, and just generally weary. A truck driver pulls over and tries to assit me but to not much avail. Finally, after about an hour of searching I find an entrance.
I find the hike bike site, lean my bike against a picnic table, and go to the other picnic table and sleep atop it for warmth. (I did not bring a tent with me, nor a sleeping pad, and the ground sucks a lot of heat from you). Right as I am lying down it begins to rain. No big deal, I just pull my poncho tarp over me. I am so relieved to be lying down that nothing can concern me.
Around 2 or 3 AM I awaken to a scratching nose coming from near my bicycle. Quite loud, it sounds like something is tugging at it, but I immediately can tell it is no human. Then I hear a loud huffing like noise. Instantly I froze. "Oh man, this is a bear."
"Oh man! It is eating my food!"
"Oh shyte, it is tearing my panniers! Why is this happening?"
"Jesus, it could destroy my bike somehow."
At this point the sounds is moving away from the bike and coming towards ME.
"Oh no. My head is going to be mauled. I am going to die right now, this is how it happens!"
I was too scared to move. (I am not sure what is so scarry about wilderness like this. Is it the seemingly arbitrary power? ). I have never been so afraid, actually.
A few heart pounding minutes later I hear the cupboard near my feet being tugged at, like something is trying to get in. This goes on for about half an hour, whereupon the adrenaline began to fade. I grow sleeping again, and must have dozed off for about 15 minutes. I awake again and hear the sounds, but have some courage this time and shine my riding light toward my bike.
I sear four sets of eyes near the ground.
"Raccoons?!" I was so relieved, actually, that it was NOT a bear that I did not immediately shew them away. I tried to get back to sleep but they were making a ruckus now and I could not abide it so I chased them.
The next moring I awoke to survey the damage. All my food save a jar of jelly had been eaten. I just had bought food too. They were trying to get at a stick of butter in a locked cupboard at the base of the picnic tables. But no damage to the bike or the panniers or anything else.
I likely would have figured out it was no bear when I awoke and discovered no shredded panniers, but until I shined my light at the coons I was convinced it was a bear. The huffing noise was no huffing but actually the critters getting in my panniers.
I told all this to the park rangers and they laughed, saying there were no bears there. Feeling perhaps charmed, they offered me an abundance of cookies someone sent them, which I gladly accepted.
Bears...they are no joke. Really put your food in a tree in bear country. I was starkly reminded of bears last spring while camping in a meadow. The place was littered with bearprints. Since it was early in the season there was still a healthy layer of snow over everything, and consequently not another human for quite a distance. Had it not been for the snow prints, though, I likely would not have known bears were about.