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Revenge of the Snafflehound # 4451

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Date: 2003.08.19
Vantage Point: Col east of Tremor Mountain

Caption: After an evening of moonlit snafflehounding, the snafflehound gets the last laugh!

PhotoDescr: On the third evening of a summer Spearhead Traverse, Don and I found an excellent bivy at the col just east of Tremor Mountain. Given its high elevation, the site had little alpine flora and no secure food stashes. Surveying the site, Don and I declared it a rodent free zone--or as close to that as we could imagine.

Not long after downing a filling supper, warmed by the food within and the heat of a day slogging on five glaciers, we fell asleep in our perfect little haven. Not long after that, I was awakened by the sound of something scratching at one of the packs. In the brilliant moonlight, as I stuck my head out the open door of the tent, I saw the unmistakable silhouette of a pack rat, tail held high, bounding from boulder to boulder away from the tent.

Within minutes, the snafflehound was back, sniffing through the pans and cups and finding nothing to eat, not even a crum, but making much racket just the same. We took a few minutes to toss a few pebbles half-heartedly in the snafflehound's direction, but our night was full of the subconscious awareness that the snafflehound was chomping on something.

At first light, we cast about the camp but could find no evidence of the rodent's chewing. I was about to chalk it up to imagination when I noticed a number of small felt-like disks, purple in colour, dotting the boulders to the west of camp. These looked suspiciously like the camping towel Don's wife had lent him for the trip.

Pulling the cloth from under his pack, Don gazed upon a camp towel that looked like it had been used for target practice. We don't know what the beast had found desirable about it, nor do we know how he made such perfect holes, but there is no doubting that we had witnessed the revenge of the snafflehound!

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