by Griz

Created on: May 09, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

Masked Marauders at Big Sur

Mark and I were camping buddies. One April day in 1991 we headed north out of LA to backpack into the Ventana wilderness on the northern California coast near Big Sur. The ranger at the trail-head station informed us that there was a storm approaching off the Pacific and if we crossed the river into the area in which we planned to camp, we'd better be carrying a couple weeks worth of supplies because that's how long it'd be before the river would be low enough to cross back over. Time for a plan B.

We drove a little farther north and found Andrew Molera State Park. By the time we arrived, it was after dark. Neither of us had stayed there before but it looked like an interesting place. Besides, we were more or less out of options.

Mark is an outdoor stud. He can effortlessly stride up a nearly vertical trail and not even break a sweat. He's got the right gear and the right attitude and he's a low maintenance companion. He is, however, not real cool with wildlife, large or small. He's from New York and he knows his rats, but beyond that he's a little lost. When it comes to things with more than four legs, he's got some serious problems.

On the drive up the coast he'd quizzed me about ticks. Are there many in this area? How can I avoid them? Where are they found? He was not at all comfortable with my answers.

Now it's dark and we drive up to the entrance of AMSP. The ranger shack is empty but we need instructions, so I shine a flashlight...

The beam lands on a sign. TICK AREA. To emphasize TICK there was a huge, crude drawing of a TICK. Mark has a meltdown. "I can't stay here, turn around, let's go now, I can already feel them crawling on me." It takes me a good fifteen minutes but I calm him down and convince him to give it a shot.

We park and unload. It's about a quarter of a mile walk from the parking area to the campground. Fortunately we came prepared to backpack so no problem, but we decide to bring the cooler with the "good" food in it so make ourselves a nice, albeit late, dinner.

We pitch our tents, get set up, make dinner, clean up and it's time to hit the hay. Unlike Mark, I'm something of a zoology buff, so I know a little about the local fauna, and I know that right here on the coast it doesn't include bears. We stow the food in the cooler and we leave the cooler on the table. We each have our own food stash as well. Because of years of camping in bear country, I just can't bring food in my tent so I stow my stash in the cooler

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