I was in a car with my brother and his girlfriend, my brother the driver. We were cruising down a road locally known as Smoker’s Circle. I saw a white streak to the right of the car and, when I looked, I saw an animal. So I told my brother to slow down.
“Is that a goat?” I ask.
We stopped the car. The animal, frozen so as not to be noticed, stood there with it’s eyes fixed on our car. We realize it’s a deer. A white deer? So, we turn the car around and go back to my mom and dad’s house to share this experience as a family. We pack my mom, my dad, myself, my brother, his girlfriend, and my nephew into the car, a tiny Mercury Tracer, and we head back out to the place we saw the deer. When we get there, it’s standing in the ditch, close enough to touch. (well, almost)
“Is that a goat?” my mom asks. LMAO!!
An albino deer. Never have I seen anything so cool. Amazing. Completely white coat, pink nose, cute little doe. I’ve seen it one time since. I just hope it doesn’t get hit by a car.
This is another African wildlife true story…not as scary as the elephant in S. Africa however.
My family and I are driving down to Blantyre Malawi and we stop at a riverside restaurant/hotel for a cold drink. There are about two dozen hippos on the other bank of the river - we are all enjoying the late afternoon sun. Mr Kiffa decides that its time to do his hippo call. Some more folks come down to our bank to see if the hippos are on this side. His call is quite authentic. Pretty soon several hippos, twitching ears and all, start to make their way across the wide river. More tourists and vacationers join us as we watch the slowly moving hippos.
There is lots of talk about how nasty tempered and dangerous hippos are; there had been several hippo attacks on Lake Malawi recently resulting in some serious injuries and one death. A developer was building a new hotel which interfered with the hippos path down to the lake so they were not happy campers. Back at the river, folks are snapping photos, gossiping about nasty hippos, Mr Kiffa’s amazing hippo calls and the beautiful sunset. Before we know it an enormous female comes out of the water and starts running up the boat slip towards Mr Kiffa and everyone else. These fat suckers are really fast and wonderfully graceful. Visions of those ballet dancing hippos from Fantasia flash through my mind when everyone decided it was time to haul ass outta there.
I really wish I had a camera with me to take a picture of this very sad, nose running along the ground female hippo who sadly stared at Mr Kiffa running off into the restaurant. We left quickly before anyone had the sense enough to tell us how dumb we were to do that.
Like Coldfire, I love the African continent with all of its diversity.
My story is not nearly as exciting,impressive or exotic as the rest of yours but I loved it so I’ll tell it anyway.
Just this March I was camping at a local wilderness park with my family.It was drizzley and overcast and cold.The kids were cranky and miserable and so, naturally, was mom.
On the last night about 4am BunnyPapa and I got to make a mad dash in the rain and lightening to transport the kids from their tent(leaking) to ours.Being cold is one thing, being wet and cold in your pajamas is another and I couldn’t get back to sleep.
I got dressed and left the tent just as the sun was coming up.I had decided that I should get the fire ready to fix breakfast so I started wandering around looking for relatively dry firewood.The rain had stopped and now the woods were deliciously quiet with only the my footsteps in the wet grass, early birdsong and the sound of dripping trees.It was lovely.
I was enjoying the solitude and I had walked quite a ways down a trail looking for wood when I glimpsed a large bird fly above me.I stopped where I was and looked around for it.
After a moment I realised that I was standing amongst 14 large turkey vultures.
They were on the ground, sitting in the trees and perched on a felled trunk not 20 feet from me.I stood perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe, and watched them.And they watched me.Occasionally one or two would shift about or fly from tree to ground and the sound of their wings was unreal.It was incredible to stand there knowing they knew I was there and were allowing me to be there(Probably ignoring me, but I like it better my way.).I can’t even describe how it made me feel; awestruck is the closest.Like nature had given me a secret gift.
I must have stayed frozen there for twenty minutes or so untill I finally had to go back to the campsite.I backed slowly away so as to not disturb them and they watched my go.
The whole miserable four days was worth those twenty minutes.
One night about a year after we moved into our house as we pulled in our headlights caught the gaze of a bajillion eyeballs in the darkness. Hitting the high beams, it was about 60 deer grazing in our back yard. That was really cool.
I see deer tracks every day, but rarely any more at night.
The side road next to our house should have a sign on it stating, “Caution humping bunnies” the little so and so’s are everywhere this year.
Our property has a den of woodchucks on it that is like a magnet to my dog’s steel. At least once a day I can look out and see her with her head stuck down the hole sniffing eu de woodchuck. We only have three woodchucks. My sister in law has something like 15. My dog is always down at their house …(snicker)sniffing her holes.
On a walk in the afternoon once down a treeline road here, I looked up, basking in the beauty of the day and saw a raccoon in plain day light in the crook of a branch, his back to me, but looking over his shoulder with his eyes half closed as if to say, " Doya mind, I’m trying to sleep."
About five years ago I camped for a couple of nights in Shenandoah NP with some friends. Just as a lead in to the story, I should mention that one morning we met a park ranger and asked him if he had seen any bears lately. He told us he’d seen a few, and that, due to the weather, there wasn’t much food for the bears in the low lands, so they had been coming up into the mountains more looking for food. Not only that, but they were somewhat more aggressive than usual.
Anyway, on our last day we were coming back from a hike out to a waterfall. There were lots of people on the trail, but as we were walking along a stretch where no one else was around, talking amongst ourselves, I happened to glance up and see a young black bear about 10 or 15 feet in front of us, right on the trail. Everyone had been so engrossed in conversation that no one had noticed it any earlier. As I said, it was a young bear; I wouldn’t really call it a cub–it was as big as a large dog, but it wasn’t full grown, either, so I wasn’t entirely convinced that his mama wasn’t somewhere nearby, as well. We kind of backed up and just followed the bear for a while (not that we were intent on following the bear, he just happened to be going in the same direction we were, i.e., along the trail). So the bear sticks to the trail and wanders into a rather large crowd of people near the trailhead. People start throwing bread crumbs at him; one particularly bright kid picks up a long twig and begins walking towards the bear, making poking motions with the stick. One of the guys I’m with tells the kid sternly, “Don’t do that, that’s a wild animal!” The kid runs crying and screaming to his mother (better that than let the kid get eaten however).
About that time we began walking swiftly away, didn’t hang around to see what happened next.
A little background for you; I am a birder and sometimes we have to go to some "interesting places to see birds. This spring I was walking down the banks of a small stream in an area that is a good spot to find birds. I was walking down the stream when a Cooper’s Hawk (a small hawk about the size of a crow) hopped off the ground and sat in a tree overhead. It had been sitting on the ground eating some prey. I looked at it and I continued walking towards it. It flew two trees down and sat on a limb glaring at me. I moved a little farther down the stream and it did the same thing. I had now walked past the food and I had the feeling that this guy was going to keep following me, so discretion being the better part of valour I decided to turn around and head back down the stream. I made it past the original spot and some sixth sense made nme look behind me. As I did I saw the hawk come at me with wings spread and talons lowered. I ducked as he came close and he flew over my hat by less than an inch. He sat in a tree in front of me looking VERY angry. I maintained eye contact and ran the hell out of there. It took a good 15 minutes before my heartrate returned to normal. What scared me the most was when I realized that he only meant to scare me, if he wanted to hurt me he wouldn’t have missed.
Keith
With my flashlite I watched a mink work the creek bank near our house late one night.
He was in the water when I first saw him, checking every crack and crevice for a morsal
of crawdad,bug or what have you.When he got to the culvert type bridge, he got out of
the water ,climbed the bank,and hopped within 3 feet of me and crossed the road where
he went back down to the creek bank and resumed his hunt.
I used to trap them so this was a real thrill.
I often see coons down at the creek and thats what I was hoping to see.
By the way there were two litters of coons raised in our barn and shed this year.
Today, my daughter, who is practicing a dance routine with her friend,the veterinarians daughter, came out to get in the truck with a baby coon on her shoulder.It was cute but it went back to the vets house.
New Zealand’s a cool place to spot wildlife, especially birds. My husband and I were backpacking, and stopped along the trail for some lunch. A small grey bird with white breast jumps on the rock we’re sitting on. We shoo him away (we never feed wildlife). He stays. We figure he’s just used to people feeding him, although this is the most deserted trail we’ve ever been on, so we can’t figure him out. While we’re eating, he hops down onto the trail, digs out a worm, and eats too. Very cool. We named him George because we didn’t know what kind of a bird he was. After lunch, we split up to answer the call of nature. There I am, crouched next to a log, when I look up–and there’s George, about a foot from my face looking interested. So I strike up a conversation with him. He doesn’t answer. A guide later told us that he was a bush robin and they’re very curious and have no natural enemies. One once climbed up onto her hiking boots while she was still in them. They like to follow hikers because the boots stir up the dirt so it’s easier to find worms. So I guess we kind of fed him anyway.
On the same trip, we camped at a popular spot but we had it all to ourselves–sort of. There was a possum there. Possums are evil imported creatures that kill off NZ’s indigenous flora and fauna. People go out of their way to run them over. He was very spooky, and he was between our tent and the pit toilet. He was very aggressive and we threw things in his general direction to get him to go away. We stowed our food in our tent (no bears to worry about) and I opened my backpack wide in case some wildlife wanted to snif it–better to leave it open then have them tear it open. The next day, I go to get my pack and there are three little sandy possum prints on it. I still have the picture I took of them.
Oh yeah, and New Zealand has the nastiest mosquitoes on earth.
I grew up in the interior of British Columbia and am fairly outdoorsy, so I have seen a fair number of bears, moose, deer, and assorted wildlife. However, three encounters stick out in my mind the most.
Once, while fishing in the Gulf Islands in a little 14 foot aluminum boat, we had a pod of Orcas (Killer Whales) pass by us. The closest were about 20 feet away. Fascinating, yet terrifying. Orca vs Aluminum boat would not be a fair fight.
The second encounter occurred a couple of winters ago. My mother, brother and I were in the kitchen. Suddenly, we heard a loud BANG. We ran downstairs and looked out the window to see a very large hawk tearing chunks out of an also very large pheasant about 10 feet away from the window. We think the hawk had been chasing the pheasant and it had run into the glass surrounding our upstairs balcony. Very cool.
The last occurred on a week-long canoe trip that I took with my dad a few years ago. Dad is terrified of bears, and when he heard the people staying at the next campsite talk about the bear they had seen, he was freaked. That evening, he woke up to hear a rustling sound and heavy breathing. His first thought was that a bear was sniffing around our campsite (even though the food and packs had been stored in a steel cache well away from the tents).
Unable to find his flashlight, he felt the side of the tent and felt a bulge - holy crap, the bear was leaning on the tent! He called out, and finally found his flashlight. Turning it on, he found — me! Turns out, the rustling was my nylon sleeping bag, the breathing was closer to snoring, and the bulge in the tent was because he had become disoriented and felt my back, rather than the side of the tent. I still bug him about that one!
Some of my coolest wildlife encounters were in the bush of South Australia. I remember seeing wedge-tailed eagles for for first time - two huge, beautiful golden brown birds that were busy gorging themselves on some roadkill. Their wing span must have been on the order of six or seven feet.
Much smaller were the hordes of galahs (a soft gray variety of cockatoo with a rosy pink breast) that woke me up every morning with their raucous calls, as well as the white sulfur-crested cockatoos that were somewhat less common. I even saw a rare black cockatoo once (but that was east of Alice Springs).
Kangaroos were everywhere. One evening, I drove to a lonely phone booth on the side of the road to make a call (imagine no light but my flashlight and the light in the booth). When I got out of my truck, I heard this steady thump-thump-thump coming from behind me, and getting louder. When I turned around with my flashlight, there was a young doe, three feet tall and blinking in the light. I turned to go to the phone booth and she followed me all the way, eventually nibbling on my boot laces while I was on the phone! I was told later that she was probably one of the ones that were hand raised by park rangers after being abandoned as a joey, so she was used to people and hoping for a handout.
Occasionally, I’d see a shingleback lizard - smallish (about 12 inches long w/tail), very slow moving, would stick out an amazing blue-black triangular tongue if you got too close. Once (also east of Alice Springs) I bumbled across a gorgeous yellow and black goanna (monitor lizard) that was at least 5 feet long. We stared at each other for a while before my friend walked up unawares and spooked the goanna. Boy, was that thing fast!
Much closer to home, I once treed a young raccoon accidentally. I heard scratching on a tree trunk & thought it was one of the neighborhood cats - turned out to be a raccoon clinging to the tree about the height of my head. We watched each other for a while, but he didn’t move until after I’d gotten on the other side of the front gate.
Although I’ve seen plenty of wildlife in my day, the one situation that stands out in my mind does not involve an exotic animal or an adventure, just a situation and its effect on me.
I was sitting one summer with my coworkers in a patio behind our office. The women were gossiping about their friends, bitching about their husbands, etc., and I was bored. I noticed a honeybee slowly circling downward through the air, and it landed on the pavement. No one else saw it, although I watched it closely. The bee didn’t seem well. It walked erratically in a tightening circle, and then extended its wings abruptly outwards at right angles to its body, shivered all over, and died. Within two minutes of its death, a little black scout ant found it, and touched it all over with its antennae. It ran off excitedly, and in another two minutes, several more ants showed up, and commenced doing what ants do to dead bugs when they find them.
Now, the image of this delicate death from natural causes has stayed with me for years. I suppose it is rare for a wild animal to die from natural causes, but it must be even rarer for us to see it happen. I don’t know why, but this experience has remained indelible and vivid. I can’t even remember what the women were talking about!
Oustide the door to my office, I recently had the dubious pleasure of watching a hawk catch, rip into shreds, and consume a prairie dog. It left only the skull and pelt, having devoured amlost everything else, including the eyes.
A couple of college professors moved in across the road from our farm and built a horse boarding stable. They are very nice people, but while they might not be the epitome of city slickers they come awfully close.
Anyhow, Mrs. Slicker drives into the yard and says, “Bill, I know you’re not going to believe this, but I SWEAR I just saw an emu run across our lawn and into your pasture.”
I guess you’d have to know dad to understand the look he gave her, but somehow she talked him into a ride on his four-wheeler.
Drove out back of the barn into our hayfield and dammned if there wasn’t an emu standing there!!!
Yeah, I know you Austrailians aren’t impressed, but this is Minnesota, for pete’s sake.
It escaped from someplace, obviously, but that poor emu is the talk of the town…sightings everyplace. Unfortunately everyone knows it’ll die come winter, unless it’s caught first, but it’s still kinda weird spotting an emu in the wild.
I’ve seen a few, but let me describe one that left me with a memorable image.
About 30 years ago, hippie times, I was camping in the forest by the banks of the Navarro River near Albion, CA. There were all kinds of hippies camped out around us, parties and bonfires at night and general grooviness. One morning I got up and went down to the river to wash my face and, generally wake up. Across the river was a small clearing where a long haired bearded guy and his female companion had just come down out of their tree and were standing there, buck naked. The trees overhang the river here, and it was very quiet, with shards of early morning sunlight piercing the canopy. A creaking sound came from right and I looked toward a bend in the river and saw, about 25 feet up, a condor flying up the river. He was as big as an ultralight. As he glided past me and disappeared upstream the world seemed a bit prehistoric.
One night my partner and I were going to New Orleans and wound up leaving I-10 and getting on a small two lane highway (no, she was driving). As the countryside soon became pitch black, I started working on figuring out where we were. Just as I realized that we were skirting the south edge of White Lake, which meant we were by the ocean, where South Louisiana is not really land, we come upon a 'gator straddling the road. His tail was on the left shoulder and his snout was on the right. Woo! Fortunately he departed as we approached (and I was surprised (gulp) how fast that fellow moved. Varoom!!
My family and I were driving through a park (Yellowstone, possibly). Anyway. There were a bunch of cars pulled over to one side on the main road. As we came up to them we could see that there were several deer that were at eating at the side of the road. Several people had gotten out to get a closer look at the deer. Several had cameras out. My dad didn’t want to stop so he just drove around the other cars, never really slowing down. This apparently spooked the deer and they started going crazy running around and bucking all over the place. I watched this from further down the road as the spectators ran in terror to my delight. What can I say, I was younger and found it funny. In fact, I still chuckle about it.
Another funny little encounter. I was camping and a little squirel was getting tamer and tamer. Eventually we could feed it right from our hands. Anyway, I was sitting away from the trees and my companions said it was right behind me. So I sat very still, and it came closer and closer until it was at my foot. It then proceeded to bite my foot! I shouted very loudly and angrily at the little guy. It took off. My friends were not to impressed. But it hurt! I feel kind of stupid about it now. Later all.
I’m sitting by my computer one morning and look out the window to the park across the street. Damned if there wasn’t a coyote trotting across the football field. Called up nature-lover wife who doesn’t believe me and says that I’m looking at some mutt dog. Said that I wasn’t the only person interested in that mutt dog, since there was a cop car and an animal control truck chasing it. What did they think–that they could CATCH IT?!? Needless to say, they didn’t and the whole thing looked like a Keystone Kops movie.
Well, the neighborhood squirrel population crashed and wifey saw a coyote herself and now denies having told me I was wrong.
Then there was the time I saw a fox crapping on a green at a golf course. It would have been an easy putt.
Baracudda: My ex and I were walking on a beach in Florida. About three feet from the shoreline, in about two feet of water, there was a (approximately) three foot long baraccuda. Following us! It stayed exactly even with us as we walked, even turning around when we did. It stayed dead even with us until we branched off to go back to the parking lot and leave. I still wonder what it had in mind.
Rattlesnake: I helped another guy herd a pygmy rattlesnake into a wastebasket for release into a vacant lot. Yes, it was inside our office and we never did locate its point of entry.
Alligator: I love to bike at Shark Valley, a part of the Everglades National Park. Very heavy alligator population, including some BIG alligators. It is often necessary to ride around one sunning on or next to the path. I have seen tourists do some incredibly stupid things with alligators, including one guy who actually pulled the tail of a ten footer. The alligator turned and hissed and I really believe the guy wet his pants. I nearly wet mine and I wasn’t even involved. An alligator in threat display is an awesome sight.
We lived in the middle of a subdivision that was inside of the city limits of the largest city for more than 100 miles. Not the big city, but still not rural yet either. It was Memorial Day Weekend and my husband’s sister had brought her family to visit. The kids had been spending lots of time on the swingset in our backyard for 2 days whenever it was in the shade of the house. We adults were spending lots of time on the back deck that was one-story off of the ground with no steps leading to it (just a door off of the kitchen). Our air-conditioner had broken that very week so we were spending time where ever it was the coolest. The kids had just come in to drink some lemonade and rest. Just then a coyote comes creeping by. He was a big coyote too. Usually the ones I’ve seen (in places you would expect to see wildlife) are kind of small, young I guess. This guy walked within 5 feet of the swingset that the children had just been playing on. My brother-in-law (city boy) says, “Look at that dog. What’s wrong with him?” It would have been funny if it wasn’t MY backyard. The kids didn’t go out without dogs for the rest of the weekend.
