Modified Stationary Tent/Beware Falling Porcupines

I crawled into my sleeping bag in the backwoods of Moshannon State Forest around 10 p.m., but my husband stayed up to watch the moon, which showed up around that time. He reported that several white-tailed deer came by and snorted loudly to find us and our gear unexpectedly in their spot. I woke up suddenly around 11:45, unsure of why I did so; apparently it was the snorting, which can almost wake the dead.

But then I fell back to sleep and did not awaken until just before 6. It was still dark in the woods, and so I stayed in my tent and tried to go back to sleep, but really couldn't. Eventually, I got up and went out to tend to the necessary things. Then I climbed back into my tent and studied the trees above my head.

Around 7:45 a.m., I heard footsteps, and I thought it was my husband, walking over from his tent to peer down at me in mine. But no! Imagine my surprise when it was not my husband but a huge porcupine that lumbered by! And I'm talking BIG. Maybe a 30-pounder!

It was waddling, as they do, large and spiky, but it ran across a log behind my tent with an agility that was astounding. At its closest, it was about two feet away from me. At a certain point, I gazed out at it, and it gazed back in at ME! T. Tiger took one look and hopped into my gear bag and hid. WHOA, NELLIE!!! went the porcupine, and it took off for a nearby tree, where it climbed 70 feet and sat in one of the top branches! Wow. I have never seen one climb that high!

I did get a few pictures of the critter after its big climb (you may see one in the extras), but the whole thing floored me. How many porcupines ARE there way up in the tree-tops, waiting to fall on unsuspecting backpackers? I do know this for sure. Sometimes you might want to help out by CATCHING a creature that falls. I'd recommend NOT doing that with a porcupine. (Also of note: porcupines are a major reason to keep your boots INSIDE your tent, as they are known for chewing on things like that.)

A few minutes later, more (or the same?) white-tails went by, snorting loudly in the morning air. And then my husband got up, and I told him all about the porcupine and its big climb, and the deer. We marveled at the porcupine's prowess. It climbed - like Tarzan - right up the tree. Would it swing out over us on a branch?

Suddenly the porcupine's name was Gitarzan! And we joked about having one land on our head, and how marvelous a hat it would make. "Nobody messes with you when you're wearing a 30-pound porcupine on your head!" one of us said.

Seriously, though, I saw the tree swaying, and I saw the branch swaying, and the porcupine was totally cool with the whole thing, and slept on. I imagine it was like a treetop lullaby for our porky friend. Nothing up there to get at it! Safe as a sleeping babe. . . .

Then we had to start taking our gear down, and of course, my husband went first. I was inside my tent with my Tiger and pals, when I looked out to see my husband with his tent wrapped around him, standing in his campsite spot looking much like a turtle!

Let me introduce you to the Modified Stationary Tent (or MST)! You simply put your backpacking gear on, you stuff your things inside your tent, and then you walk around with your tent around you, and simply stop and camp wherever you feel like it! Easy-peasy!

The terminology, the MST, by the way, is a shameless rip-off of a concept invented by outdoor humor writer Patrick F. McManus, the Modified Stationary Panic (or MSP), an efficient way of panicking in place when encountering something panic-worthy in the outdoors. Like so, from McManus himself (and I include this helpful guide in case you, yourself, or someone you love someday needs to do a Modified Stationary Panic):

"The key to the MSP is not to bounce up and down in a monotonous fashion but to vary the steps so that it appears to be a sort of folk dance. You can make up your own steps but I highly recommend throwing in a couple of Russian squat kicks. The chittering sound should be replaced by an Austrian drinking song, shouted out at the top of your voice. The MSP is particularly appropriate for group panics. There are few sights so inspiring as a group of lost hunters, arms entwined, dancing and singing for all they are worth as night closes in upon them." (More here.)

The rest of our day involved packing up our gear, hiking out of our campsite in the Moshannon State Forest, finding our entry point to the trail quite easily, removing the Walmart bag, and making our way back to the car. We had planned to swim at Black Moshannon, but we found the beach area closed for the season. Oh well.

From there, we went home, unpacked the car, and went in search of swimming and food. We swapped cars, headed to Couch's for a hot lunch, but discovered that their kitchen was serving only cold food. We swam at Greenwood Furnace, encountered some kind of folk gathering there, and ended up bringing ribs home from Doan's for our supper. That was a long, roundabout way of getting home! Whew!

Thus endeth our tale of the two intrepid backpackers in the Pennsylvania backwoods, and our tale of Modified Stationary Tents and the ever-present risk of falling porcupines. Of course, we can't wait to get back out again!

It is my tradition to include soundtrack songs for my images, and I've got two pictures, so let's have two songs.

First, for my husband, who is sort of like a turtle in this picture, with his home on his back: Bon Jovi and Jennifer Nettles, with Who Says You Can't Go Home.

Second, for the porcupine, swaying on its branch high in the tree-tops: Ray Stevens, with Gitarzan!