No Teddy Bears In Camper’s Country

My story begins on July 1, 2004 - Canada Day - a national holiday, a day for celebration, the last day to weigh in the Terrace Bay Fish Derby winner…and a day that will now be forever etched in the minds of my husband, our three young children and I.

On the day prior we had decided to take advantage of the holiday by heading to our camp. After work we packed our gear and made our way to the remote trapping cabin. Upon arrival we were surprised to find that the screen surrounding the porch had been torn, the storage shed damaged, several window frames bore claw marks, and many muddy paw prints marked the windows and walls.

I am sure you will be very quick to say that we had entered into the bear’s territory and should have respected that, but I will assure you that the camp was established 15 years ago and this bear had now entered my territory!

We repaired the damage as well as we could and tried to enjoy our evening in the great outdoors. It was a beautiful, clear night. We admired the stars, displaying their brilliance in a way that can only be truly appreciated when you are in the bush. The frogs were singing a glorious tune, the mosquitoes were finally nested away for the night, and the lonely cry of the loon was echoing in the air. This peace was to be shattered in a few short hours.

3:00 a.m.

Everyone was nestled and snug in our beds, while vision of derby winners danced in our heads. Out on the screen porch there arose such a clatter, I knew right then what was the matter!

The loud crashing of paws pounded the porch and then migrated to the side walls.