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Trail attack story - harrowing...and true.


tvashtarkatena

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Two years ago I went for a trail run through the Fifth of July Peak area above the Chiwawa River. As I traversed the trail just below Carne Mountain, I was confronted by an enormous bull porcupine; peerless, fearless, and leashless. He crawled down from his tree and began advancing at a menacing pace of a third of a mile per hour or so, maintaining full eye contact, all the while snorting aggressively like an deflating bagpipe.

 

As anyone who's been charged by a 40 pound rodent can tell you, I was terrified as I stumbled backwards to escape the onslaught. Had been carrying the trusty Desert Eagle I'd been thinking about impulse buying, I could have blown his quills over half of Entiat County. Instead, I had only my instincts for protection.

 

Finally, it dawned on me; I began to walk away from him.

 

I still wake up nights thinking about what might have happened had I tripped, hit my head on a rock, and been rendered unconscious during that desperate moment.

Edited by tvashtarkatena
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I know a thing or two about porkies in the bugs. We didn't have any protection the first time I was there. On our return we started to drive out of there till my truck started to spew water. Porky has chewed through a radiator hose on my rig.

 

I walked to the lodge there where they were guiding heli hiking. One of the guides let us borrow his rig. I drove to Radium and bought some new radiator hoses. We thanked the guy and fixed our truck. :grlaf:

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Two years ago I went for a trail run through the Fifth of July Peak area above the Chiwawa River. As I traversed the trail just below Carne Mountain, I was confronted by an enormous bull porcupine; peerless, fearless, and leashless. He crawled down from his tree and began advancing at a menacing pace of a third of a mile per hour or so, maintaining full eye contact, all the while snorting aggressively like an deflating bagpipe.

 

As anyone who's been charged by a 40 pound rodent can tell you, I was terrified as I stumbled backwards to escape the onslaught. Had been carrying the trusty Desert Eagle I'd been thinking about impulse buying, I could have blown his quills over half of Entiat County. Instead, I had only my instincts for protection.

 

Finally, it dawned on me; I began to walk away from him.

 

I still wake up nights thinking about what might have happened had I tripped, hit my head on a rock, and been rendered unconscious during that desperate moment.

 

One more reason they should allow hunting with dawgs. Now that, I tell you, would be some serious sport. :lmao:

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