The Bear and the Tempest

From the time I was 2 miles into my hike I heard about "the storm." Locals would tell me that, "It's gonna be a big one," and, "You won't want to be tenting in that!" And the storm was still over two days away.

All that next Saturday, Sunday and Monday, the trail gossip was stirring:
"It's going to hit Monday night."
"No, Monday afternoon."
"Stop worrying about it. It's only a 30% chance of rain."
"You'll want to get off the mountain. There's a 80% chance of severe thunderstorms."

And so the rumors flew.

Most of Monday was a gorgeous sunny day peaking in the high 80's. By the late afternoon local thunderheads from the day's humidity were rolling in, but still no sign of "the storm." Still, it was decision time. Standing on top of Blood Mountain looking at spending the night in the AT's oldest shelter--made of stone and plenty drafty--through a storm did not sound appealing. Neither did descending the 1300 feet into Neels Gap.
But the storm wasn't the only factor. We were warned by a Ridge Runner that there was unusual bear activity 5 miles on either side of Neels. Then, hiking up Blood Mountain we stumbled across a campsite with a frantically penned note left behind: "Don't stay here! Bear came just after dark and took down both of our bear bags, hung on opposite sides of the campsite. He is NOT afraid of humans ... yelling ... clapping ... throwing rocks. And he WILL be back!" I don't know about you, but that didn't sound very inviting.

But that wasn't he end of the said bear. Near the summit of Blood Mountain there was a bear line left hanging from a tree with an old food bag still hanging from it, ripped to shreds. Someone didn't hang his bag of food high enough.

And then at Blood Mountain Shelter there was a log book left in the fireplace. There, too, another account of a pesky bear tearing through someone's pack was written.

I thought, "Anyone who ignores multiple storm and bear warnings must not be very wise." And so I pressed on to Neels Gap, thankful for shelter in the Blood Mountain Cabins, but also wondering what kind of adventure I had passed up. I would find out soon enough.

That night I checked the Weather Channel. The forecast was grim. There was a tornado warning, a wind advisory with gusts up to 70mph, hail up to 1.5 inches thick, and severe lightning. I was incredibly thankful not to be stuck in a tent or shelter exposed on a ridge; I also felt for those who weren't so lucky.

The next day I went to resupply at Mountain Crossings, and the store was buzzing. "Did you hear about the bear last night!?" Those were the words that greeted me, and the story was soon filled in.

So it's told, four people were staying in Blood Mountain Shelter. Before the storm hit but after dark, they had the opportunity to watch the bear pick off their food bags one by one. And this wasn't just any bear: it was big--7 feet paw to paw and more than 13 feet tall on its hind legs--and smart. They watched the bear climb the tree, shimmy 10 feet out onto the limb where the food was hung, and pull up the bags of food, one by one, paw over paw, until his snack was complete.

One of the four was fortunate enough to have hung his food on a different tree, and while the bear was busy picking off the others' bags, this hiker got his down and stowed it in his pack which was kept in the shelter. Then, the windows and door were barricaded for the night.

The storm blew in, just as wild as predicted. Amidst the howling wind, pounding rain and rumbling thunder, the four slept in their tents inside the leaky shelter. In the morning they awoke to a new surprise. The pack with food was missing, and one window's barricade dismantled. The bear had struck again, this time coming inside the two-room shelter, just feet from where the others were sleeping.

But they survived. And so did I. Only they have their first AT story to tell.