Lesson 167: CAMPING, CUBS AND KIDS

Kentucky Chaplain David Chaltas

One of the greatest lessons of my life came when I decided to take my young children out on their first camping trip. We had decided to go to the Great Smokey Mountains and to enjoy camping just on the other side of the mountain, prior to entering Cherokee, North Carolina. We arrived at our destination around three that evening and went about the business of finding a good site, getting it secured, and setting up our camp. I let them help pick out the site and we decided upon the one farthest away from the other campsites, by the roaring river. The stream was crystal clear and filled with trout. After we secured the campsite and set up the tent, we went wading in the ice-cold water and then decided to ‘fish’. I had my required trout stamp and though I tired, as I might, could not fish for tending to their squeals and splashes of delight. The kids were so excited. I actually was having more fun watching them than with my meager fishing efforts.

After the water became ‘old’ and cold, we went to dry off in the tent. I had purchased some wood for the evening fire and also had enough propane for the camping stove. But the kids wanted to go see the bears in Cherokee, North Carolina, and so we took off, leaving the tent and equipment by the river. We arrived in Cherokee, after walking through a frontier farm settlement next to the Blue Ridge and decided to get something to eat. We ate, found the bears and were educated as to their ways in the wild. We walked among the Native American stores and even took a picture with Chief Henry, the most photographed Cherokee of his time. Then we went back.

On the way to camp, David started saying he wanted a snack and I explained to both that I would cook but yielded to their ‘sweet tooth’. We went in to the store, purchased our loot, and I remember telling them not to take any food into the tent, as per the Ranger’s instructions. We nibbled on the way back to the campsite and for some reason I still recall us singing the song, Smokey the Bear, as we meandered. We arrived around dusk and I began getting a nice campfire going, peeled potatoes, and fixed two sticks for my children to roast hotdogs and marshmallows. The fire danced with energy and my heart sang with enthusiasm, as I felt a part of Daniel Boone and my native blood stirred within me. We told stories and my little possums seemed to be mesmerized by my sagas. All was well with the world.

The night air, the sounds of the crickets, the tumbling water over the rocks, and the excitement soon took its toll, as it brought yawns to everyone’s lips. I took them into the tent and let them say their prayers for the night, kissed them adieu and then told them I was going to sit by the fire, and stand watch just in case the bears came. Tonya looked at me and begged that I leave the tent screen up but not the flap so she could see me. I pulled my chair close to the door of the little maroon octagon tent and began my sentry duty. I remember asking them if they had left any food in the car or had taken any in the tent. Both assured me that they did not leave any around the campsite.

I kept my vigil until I heard reassurances of them both being asleep. I placed a few logs close to the tent, just in case I needed to toss some on the fire in the middle of the night and then made my way between my two bundles of joy. As I drifted off into the night abyss, staring at the stars through the screen top, I could not help but thank God for such a day. How lucky I was to be with those precious children that adored me.

I was awakened by a sixth sense that something big was outside our tent. I looked up and immediately saw the form of a big bear between the fire and the tent. Its shadow danced on the tent walls, increasing its size significantly. I looked over and dear daughter was wide-awake with eyes opened as wide as an owls. She could not speak; simply pointed. I saw the form of two little ones behind the bigger bear. It was a mother bear and knew that she was hungry and would protect her cubs, as I would mine. I watched as she meandered out to the car, attempted to open the crack window by inserting her paw and them start in our direction. Dave had awakened and I held his mouth, asking had they either one left anything in the car. Dave knew the time of truth was upon him as seen by my expression, and told me he had left an unopened pack of candy in the car. That was what she was after! I asked did he sneak anything in the tent, and he pulled a crushed bag of bacon rinds from under his pillow. Bacon Rinds! A bear has a thousand times greater ability to smell than humans and loves bacon! They were unopened, so I mustered as much courage as I could, opened the screen, and with a mighty heave, tossed the rind bag as far from the fire and car as I could. She took the bait! She bounded over to the bag and her little ones came behind her. There was the opportunity of seeking refuge, so I grabbed both children and floated like a gazelle to the confines of my old car. I secured all the windows and immediately laid down on the horn while starting the engine.

Well the ole girl grunted and she took off through the creek with a vengeance. Dogs began barking and lights came on inside of tents. A ranger came by and after I explained what had happened, chastised me for allowing food to be open in a car and tent. He was right to do so. They were my children and it was my duty as a father to teach them to mind. But at that moment, all I could do was hug them and giggle like a lovesick schoolboy at how close an encounter we had but what a wonderful experience we had shared. Such are dreams made of.

The next morning, the scratch marks on ole Bessie (the kids has named the car) proved that she had been attacked but stood her ground. We talked about responsibilities, being truthful, and the cuteness of the cubs as we drove towards Cade’s Cove and yet another adventure.

Have you ever stopped to think about the number of times God has offered a diversion for the bear so that you could escape? My greatest lesson on that particular trip was not what a grand camper I was, but what a lucky man I am to be given the duty, honor and responsibility of loving two human beings who were given to me by a gracious God. How many times have I betrayed the trust, I am unsure of but this I know, as the bear would have fought to the death for her cubs, I too would have given my all for mine.

Christ died on a cross for me. FOR ME! I can’t fathom why except that he saw the bear charging and offered up His life to save mine. Such is the love that passeth all understanding. Tonight I camp along memorial lane, as I remain your obedient servant, The Old General.