5-13-07 9:15 pm (Oklahoma City Airport)
Hi everyone!
I just spent a week in Tulsa and a week in St. Louis. In between, I camped at a little campground in southern Missouri. "Twin Bridges" on the North Fork River. What an awesome experience. I accidentally found the place late at night and it was run by a canoing outfitter.
I had a day off. So I left the condo in Tulsa and lit out for the Walmart to get my camp gear. The tradition, that Marc Ryan and I started, is to pay no more for the camp gear than you would for a cheap Motel. So that's what I did. My budget was low so it left me feeling like that dude from "Man Vs Wild"...a pocket knife and a newspaper. Actually, I did pretty good...
ROAD COMIC CAMP RECIPE ( Spring and Summer only)
1) pocket knife $4
1) roll up foam pad (to sleep on) $3
1) fleece blanket $5
1) cheap fishing pole (and hooks) $12
1) 6'x8' tarp $6
1) roll nylon string $2
1) lighter $1
4) tent stakes $2
1) bag flour tortillas $1
TOTAL $36
When I pulled into the parking lot of "Twin Bridges Canoe Outfiters" it was 9:30 at night and they were locked up and dark. It didn't say that they had campsites so I didn't even think about it.(It was late.) I just thought that since I had passed the campground that I saw on the map about 15-20 miles back. I should just fish there on the bridge for a couple of hours then go find a rest stop and catch some "z"s.
That was when I met Jim. Jim had a beer in his hand and was unlocking the gate while asking me if I needed a campsite.
"Hell Yeah!" I said. Hoping that he wasn't talking about his driveway.
He had a beautiful, empty campground right on the river.
"How 'bout 8 bucks?" he said. Trying to find a way to do this gate thing without setting down his beer.
I agreed and drove my rental up to the nicest campsite he had. Firepit and all.
As he said goodnight he told me we could settle up in the morning and that, if I wanted to, he could drop me and a canoe up river 4-5 miles and I could do a float in the morning...Sometimes angels are named Jim and drink alot of beer.
My camp was completely set up in roughly 30 minutes. Fire blazing and everything.
As I laid in my little wilderness bed the night animals, Jim not included, began to forage, argue, and stumble. My senses were on high alert. I didn't know what lurked in the woods of southern Missouri And I definately don't want "I Shouldn't Be Alive" to be my first TV credit.
Turns out that the nocturnal predators of the North Fork River Basin are about as coordinated as Jim 9 beers after quitting time. They include the armadillo and the opossum. Neither of which are helping Darwinians with that little evolution debate that continues to rage in the very state they live in. Coincidence? Probably not.
For the most part, both species of waddling moron, opposum and armadillo, seemed fearful of my fire. So I settled into feeling pretty secure. Munching my tortillas and imagining catching giant trout in the morning with my bare hands as bobcats and bears watched me in awe. Careful not to reveal their positions lest I turn my wild primative instincts toward them and possibly track them for days attcking them unaware and making meals and blankets of them. With nothing more then a tent stake and a minibic.
That was when it happened. A screech. Not Dustin Diamond. Something weirder and louder. Snapping twigs. Moving around in a deliberate way. In the woods behind me 40 feet away. I shined my maglight. Two glowing eyes 7 or 8 feet high in the woods.
"What is it? Bear, Deer, Rhino? " I thought
"Doesn't it know about my primative instincts? The trout dreams? The psycotic, rock weilding, caveman camper? "
Then the eyes disappeared. The trees started shaking. My heart was pumping the primative blood of my ancestors through the contemporary veins of a terrified, modern wussy.
Then it burst through the tree line. A mated pair of very large and agitated opposums.
I quickly figured out that they were on a tree covered embankment. And that was why their eyes had been so high in the air. It wasn't a bear or a rhino...Damn!
I tried to ignore them as they didn't seem to pose an immediate threat. That lasted until they started circling and rooting in the direction of my campsite. I stood on a big rock next to the fire and surrounded myself with throwable stones. (fist-sized). The opposums circled closer and I threw a stone of warning...I met have yelped a little too. They ran back into the woods fearing the wrath of this neanderthal camper. As well they should have!!!
If that was where it had ended. I would never have written any of this. But it was not.
3 or 4 minutes later the insane opposum duo were audible in the woods. Planning something. So true to my ancestral warrior lineage, I cowwered on a rock near the fire preparing for battle with these 15 lb cyclones of varmint fury.
Silence...1 minute...2...then CRASH! Screeching and snorting they burst through the tree line and were running straight at me. I have no idea if this is typical huge rat behavior but it seemed pretty natural to these two "no goods."
They were 30 feet and closing. I took aim. 25 feet! 20 FEET! I fired a rock at the mean one. BANG!!! Head shot! Dead on!
He flipped and wrythed. His partned burped. When he recovered he was severely tipsy. His buddy hung near him and seemed confused. As the damaged one stumbled and rolled back toward the woods he looked back at me as if to say..."We'll meet again" and only one eye was glowing.
Please heed my warning. All those who feel as if they can survive in the pseudo-wild with nothing more than a rock and a tortilla...
ROCK ON!
Morning came the float trip.
My camp was fully packed away in the Chevy and the fire, scuttled.
Jim and his wife gave me a quick run down on what to expect on the river as Jim tryed hopelessly to whisper over his own headache.
Then his wife Anne took me and the van up river for the big "drop in" ceremony.
Everything was as I had expected. Beautiful bluffs and easy rapids. Hungry smallmouths. Snakes braving the river here and there. Turtles everywhere. No 'possums. And COWS?
Probably my favorite float moment came when a gaggle of river cows were cooling there legs in the shallow rapids right where ther river narrowed and pushed all floating canoes with 'possum killing comics in them.
I banged my oar loudly on the canoe to scare them off. No such luck and somewhere, miles away Jim was wyncing and mumbling... "I'm I the only one that hears that?"
I thought of my rock skills. None in reach. These cows were not moving and I was coming up quickly and just moving faster!
Suddenly a one-eyed 'possum lept from the shore and.....
JUST KIDDING
As I came within about 15 feet of running into this mess of bovine knees. One of them took the initiative. It was as if, all at once, a gear in her cow brain caught a cog of reason and jolted the whole mess into action. Chemicals released into her nearly nonexistent cow convolusions, perhaps burning them even smoother. Whatever happened to her, long term, I can never know. But I will always be thankful for her life saving burst of mysterious, non-bovine logic. For as she belted out a mighty "MOOOOO" and exploded out of the river. All the other cows perhaps knew of her bursts of remarkable intellect and followed suit. The whole time seeming to say to themselves and each other..."She's running! We should run! Where are we running?! Look! Grass! What were we just talking about?!"
Through the rapids I went unfettered.
Thank you, slightly above average cow.
I'll never forget you.
Collin Grills (Man Vs Opossum)
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