I have a little adventure to relate, from our time in the Smokies in October. On our last morning there, at Icewater Springs Shelter, I had to use the privy (shortly after Jon took the picture above).
Obviously, the privy is a little ways from the shelter: through the grass, down a couple rock steps and over a log. And it was dark. So I'm inside the privy, steeling myself up to bare my skin to the bitter cold (we woke up to frost), when I hear a deep "Hwoof!"
As this is not the typical sound of wind or birds (which weren't even out), I paused, a little perplexed. Again, "hwoof!"
And again (imagine the sound a large dog makes).
When that connection was made, the next logical step sent the adrenaline pumping through my limbs: what if this is a bear?...And why am I still out here, vulnerably situated in a giant box?
I hightailed it out of there, every step agonizingly slow, acutely aware of the wind nipping the back of my neck.
Later that day, I mentioned this to Jon. He slowly turned his head to look at me, eyes solemn,"That's the sound a bear makes when he is making his presence known."