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Happy Scream Day! 😱
Food barrels and buckets
- Thread starter dramey
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Cabins aren’t bear proof. Vehicles aren’t bear proof. Cleanliness, caution, and good judgement are bear resistant. At one time, I used to store sunflower seeds for feeding birds outside in an olive barrel. Similar to a five-gallon bucket with a gamma lid. Squirrels chewed a hole in it overnight. I might point out that bears have significantly more destructive power than squirrels.
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The only thing bear "proof" is a thick steel box firmly anchored to the ground.
Barrels are airtight which means they will keep the contents dry and dramatically but not completely reduce the odors of the contents from spreading out from your campsite.
Depending on which type of bear you are dealing with it could take them anywhere from a minute or two (Grizzly/Polar) to 15 minutes (Black) if they are curious and really want to find out what is inside.
Raccoon have been known to open the ring closures if they don't have a safety pin in them! Plus they can chew through them overnight if they want to.
My own personal experience is that bears are not interested in my people food but that only applies to eastern black bears in unpopulated areas where traditional food sources are plentiful.
Barrels are airtight which means they will keep the contents dry and dramatically but not completely reduce the odors of the contents from spreading out from your campsite.
Depending on which type of bear you are dealing with it could take them anywhere from a minute or two (Grizzly/Polar) to 15 minutes (Black) if they are curious and really want to find out what is inside.
Raccoon have been known to open the ring closures if they don't have a safety pin in them! Plus they can chew through them overnight if they want to.
My own personal experience is that bears are not interested in my people food but that only applies to eastern black bears in unpopulated areas where traditional food sources are plentiful.
Where I live and go canoeing in Alaska, I only have to deal with brown bears and black bears. I know bears, given enough time, can get into anything. I dehydrate and vacuum pack my own food and then triple pack the food in plastic and stuff sacks. I just wanted to know if the barrels or buckets would help hide the odor of the food or would they not be worth the time, effort and/or expense.
I've never used a barrel. I always put my mostly dehydrated food into a canvas Duluth pack. For many years, everything in the Duluth pack was inside a heavy plastic liner with a roll-closure. I assume that's just about as good as a plastic barrel at keeping odors in. More currently, I use a breathable fabric pack liner, which is probably less odor resistant than the plastic liners. I don't worry about it. As I've mentioned before, all my primary food is also inside a Kevlar Ursack, which can't be chewed through.
Once I had two Duluth packs and some other backpacks and paddling bags, it never occurred to me that heavy, uncollapsible and incompressible barrels would significantly enhance my food safety. For darn sure, on the other hand, I knew they would hurt my aging back, shoulders and legs on portages . . . and my bank account, especially since as a non-tinkerer I'd likely buy new and also need a special portage harnesses just for the barrels.
Finally, I've never paddled in the Canadian north or real wilderness, places where a non-fisherman could starve if a bear took all his food. Any place I've been has always either had some other periodic water traffic on it, or was within two walking days of a road. Maybe if I were out in really remote wilderness when I was young and strong and wealthier, I'd consider the extra protection a barrel might afford. Maybe, but I doubt it. I don't think I'd even heard of blue plastic barrels in those days. When did that fad start, anyway?
any container that seals tight will add a layer of protection. I've used various barrels since the 70's and while not bear proof, if you take the time to deodorize it between trips it definitely helps. I don't even hang my barrel anymore, I just walk it back into the bush and set it in a hollow away from any wind that might carry a scent. Multiple times I've found bear tracks walking by no more than 6' from my barrel in the morning, but those tracks circled EVERY tree near camp that was suitable for hanging. It doesn't take a savvy bear long to memorize any trees that may hold food AND bears are excellent climbers, if that hang isn't perfect, they'll figure out a way to get it down.
Air tight and on the ground has always worked for me in Ak. I store my food in a seal line pack that has a plastic waste paper basket slid into it to make it a rigid container. I usually carry it at least 20 or 30 yards from the tent at night to put a little space between me and any bear that might find it. I also avoid any heavily used or dirty campsites that bears may have become conditioned to. I would also expect less chance of trouble at a wilderness campsite than at a campground.
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Same here. We once carried our food in 5-galllon pails with a screw top gasketed lid, the \_/ shaped ones, tested leakproof On two different occasions I awoke to what looked like a light snow on the ground around the screw top pail. Little shards of white plastic, which was a PITA to clean up.
Squirrels (or chipmunks, I wasn’t awake to see) had nibbled half way around the raised rim on the lid. They didn’t reach our food, but the waterproofieness of the pail was ruined. I gave an intact screw top gasket pail to a friend to store birdseed; she left it outside one evening with the same result.
I’m not saying “I ain’t afraid of no bear”, but we have never had a bear get into our food. Squirrels and/or chipmunks, especially on habituated sites, several times.
I don’t want to jinx us, but we have never had anything nibble at blue barrels, perhaps because the shape isn’t especially chewable by rodentia.
(Paddling Pitt, FWIW I store our birdseed in large metal Christmas cookie or popcorn tins. Never yet been nibbled)
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Up here we often use barrels for food, but mainly to keep it dry since we do lots of class II III Rivers, but I want to get rid of barrels and build food box/wanigans like the one I use for the kitchen, it is water tight and so much easier to organize and keep organized!! Also easier and more comfortable to portage with tumpline! As for bears we have a few of them up here in the Yukon, grizz and black... it never had a real incident......
Hard-sided luggage whether for food, gear or clothing it's all the same, is good for protecting the contents, yet not so good for ease of handling. That is why hard-sided stuff is falling out of favour in my camp, and soft pliable prone to get over stuffed packs are gaining attraction. Maybe it's merely a daydreamy mirage, imagining hard-sided travelling vs soft-sided vagabondage. It's all in our heads, and where that takes us.
Sitting in a train station in a city of light far far away amongst hustling bustling high speed train travellers I shooed away a gypsy woman spitting curses at me long enough to see an interesting youngish man sloping through the crowds. He pushed an ordinary bicycle of uncertain pedigree and wore loose sports jacket, button up shirt, casual slacks and old leather shoes, with a haversack slung across his back. He might've been a librarian, music teacher or student by the looks of his demeanor and attire. I was inquisitive enough to notice him boarding our train but not enough to approach him to ask who he was and where he was headed looking so inadequately equipped for any serious travel. He sat absorbed in a book, occasionally pausing to catch glimpses of the scenery skimming past between village stops. Miles later he disappeared while my attention had been held hostage by a little girl and her stubbornness to only share the less attractive colours of her bag of jellybeans with me. Her disapproving papa could only tsk tsk but I didn't mind. The green ones weren't so bad. I sometimes wonder who was that cyclist stranger on the train and what his story was. And how he managed to slip through time and space with so little effort while tourist hordes around us struggled with luggage and attitude while the world passed them by.
Sitting in a train station in a city of light far far away amongst hustling bustling high speed train travellers I shooed away a gypsy woman spitting curses at me long enough to see an interesting youngish man sloping through the crowds. He pushed an ordinary bicycle of uncertain pedigree and wore loose sports jacket, button up shirt, casual slacks and old leather shoes, with a haversack slung across his back. He might've been a librarian, music teacher or student by the looks of his demeanor and attire. I was inquisitive enough to notice him boarding our train but not enough to approach him to ask who he was and where he was headed looking so inadequately equipped for any serious travel. He sat absorbed in a book, occasionally pausing to catch glimpses of the scenery skimming past between village stops. Miles later he disappeared while my attention had been held hostage by a little girl and her stubbornness to only share the less attractive colours of her bag of jellybeans with me. Her disapproving papa could only tsk tsk but I didn't mind. The green ones weren't so bad. I sometimes wonder who was that cyclist stranger on the train and what his story was. And how he managed to slip through time and space with so little effort while tourist hordes around us struggled with luggage and attitude while the world passed them by.
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Critter proofing food containers reminded me of the funniest food theft I have witnessed.
We were group car camping on a long “Weekend of rivers” trip. Big group gathering on the banks of the Pocomoke, so it wasn’t like the food loss had tragic consequences. I was sitting in our campsite when friends the next site over began unpacking coolers and food from their hatchback and carrying it over to the picnic table to feed their kids. They left the hatchback open between trips.
A family of obviously habituated raccoons, awaiting their chance, scurried out of the bush, and big mamma immediately climbed into their car and just as immediately exited grasping a loaf of bread. A huge loaf of bread, like one of those 18” long Wonderbread family-sized loaves.
Hit the ground running with it. Well, not running, standing upright and waddling awkwardly, clutching a loaf of bread while dragging most of it on the ground between hind legs. Bowlegged hind legs, straddling a loaf of whitebread. That alone was a sight.
One of the soon-to-be breadless saw this and charged up, yelling “Stop, STOP, drop that!” and clapping their hands, cutting off any escape route back into the nearby brush.
No problem, big mamma just turned and waddled faster in the other direction, still clutching her precious bread loaf. Completely across a very full, tightly spaced campground, accompanied by her half-grown cubs bounding alongside. Through site after site of folks sitting down for lunch or lounging about.
That was not the first time, or last time, in 20 years of trips there that raccoons entered someone’s open car and made off with their food at Milburn Landing, it was dang near a regular occurrence with the unwise and yet-unlearned. Just usually not witnessed by one and all.
The consternation and laughter from other sites as mama and family made their long escape was most memorable.
And, in the usual Duckhead way of memorializing misfortune, for the rest of the trip friends would occasionally run through their campsite clutching a loaf of bread, held delicately beneath their chin, chattering “Breadbreadbread” in a high pitched voice. I may have been amongst them.
We were group car camping on a long “Weekend of rivers” trip. Big group gathering on the banks of the Pocomoke, so it wasn’t like the food loss had tragic consequences. I was sitting in our campsite when friends the next site over began unpacking coolers and food from their hatchback and carrying it over to the picnic table to feed their kids. They left the hatchback open between trips.
A family of obviously habituated raccoons, awaiting their chance, scurried out of the bush, and big mamma immediately climbed into their car and just as immediately exited grasping a loaf of bread. A huge loaf of bread, like one of those 18” long Wonderbread family-sized loaves.
Hit the ground running with it. Well, not running, standing upright and waddling awkwardly, clutching a loaf of bread while dragging most of it on the ground between hind legs. Bowlegged hind legs, straddling a loaf of whitebread. That alone was a sight.
One of the soon-to-be breadless saw this and charged up, yelling “Stop, STOP, drop that!” and clapping their hands, cutting off any escape route back into the nearby brush.
No problem, big mamma just turned and waddled faster in the other direction, still clutching her precious bread loaf. Completely across a very full, tightly spaced campground, accompanied by her half-grown cubs bounding alongside. Through site after site of folks sitting down for lunch or lounging about.
That was not the first time, or last time, in 20 years of trips there that raccoons entered someone’s open car and made off with their food at Milburn Landing, it was dang near a regular occurrence with the unwise and yet-unlearned. Just usually not witnessed by one and all.
The consternation and laughter from other sites as mama and family made their long escape was most memorable.
And, in the usual Duckhead way of memorializing misfortune, for the rest of the trip friends would occasionally run through their campsite clutching a loaf of bread, held delicately beneath their chin, chattering “Breadbreadbread” in a high pitched voice. I may have been amongst them.
Racoon Whisperer.
Mike McRae; hilarious and typical for those camp robbers. my brother in law had a similar event, they'd gone to bed with their soft- sided cooler in the vestibule of one of those old Woods cabin tents (not in bear country) and overnight a masked bandit snuck in and raided it. it couldn't open the zipper so it very deliberately and patiently picked out the stitching on the zipper and removed their hotdog buns!
the funniest part is that the seamstress that restitched it didn't believe his story, saying it was far too cleanly un- stitched for an animal.
the funniest part is that the seamstress that restitched it didn't believe his story, saying it was far too cleanly un- stitched for an animal.
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There seems to be something about raccoons and bread. They just seem to love bread. I don’t know why; maybe the squishability, or the after-rinse doughieness, of the wee hands tear apart graspability, but breadbbreadbread above all else (excepting your potable water in the Everglades).
Here is the real raccoon whisperer!
At the family "cabin in the woods" where my mother lived for most of the last 25 years of her life (totally off-grid) she was friends with many generations of "rockies". In this brief clip she was just saying hello, serving up a lunch of sunflower seeds before heading off to gather firewood.
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Decades later, I still bear a scar on my left shin from tripping over a stump in the dark at Lake Durant Campground in the Adirondacks, chasing a Raccoon food-off-the-picnic-table thief. I don't remember what the food was, or why I wanted it back so bad. All I know is I hit that stump at a full run.
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Well in our back yard lol.... Whitehorse is call the wilderness city so we have everything especially us that live on the green belt, bears deers coyotes foxes moose and all the usual smaller stuff!! Thousands square km of unused land And hundreds of km of trails right from the back yard....
why I am writhing this... it as nothing to do with the op... probably after reading odyssey first few lines lol....
why I am writhing this... it as nothing to do with the op... probably after reading odyssey first few lines lol....
Not a racoon story but a more "lethal" critter in one sense! Here's my encounter:
"After a long day it was off to tents. We wanted an early start to help beat any winds that can kick up. I have no clue what time it was but I awoke to a sniffing and crunching sound and then chewing! All I could think of was what the heck the boys were up to? What the F!! More of the same sounds and now I'm getting pissed off! I find a light and shine it out of my tent. HOLY crap! SKUNK!!! The dang thing was halfway under my vestibule and had got the zipper open on my Duluth pack and let me tell you unless you own one, that is ONE BIG ZIPPER and hard to pull and was eating my cookies! I mean it is probably a foot and a half away from my face! Not sure who was more startled or scared but all I could wait for was the stench that was sure to come. It backed out with the light in it's eyes and I started saying quite loud, "A effing SKUNK!" repeatedly! I backed off and I unzipped just a small opening in the rain fly and kept the light on it. It went to the bag of garbage and rummaged round the beer cans and then did a beeline to the picnic table. I pulled my pack into the tent and zipped everything up and hoped for the best. Soon there was more sniffing right by my tent but a shine of the light and more swearing seemed to send the bugger else where for late night snacks."
"After a long day it was off to tents. We wanted an early start to help beat any winds that can kick up. I have no clue what time it was but I awoke to a sniffing and crunching sound and then chewing! All I could think of was what the heck the boys were up to? What the F!! More of the same sounds and now I'm getting pissed off! I find a light and shine it out of my tent. HOLY crap! SKUNK!!! The dang thing was halfway under my vestibule and had got the zipper open on my Duluth pack and let me tell you unless you own one, that is ONE BIG ZIPPER and hard to pull and was eating my cookies! I mean it is probably a foot and a half away from my face! Not sure who was more startled or scared but all I could wait for was the stench that was sure to come. It backed out with the light in it's eyes and I started saying quite loud, "A effing SKUNK!" repeatedly! I backed off and I unzipped just a small opening in the rain fly and kept the light on it. It went to the bag of garbage and rummaged round the beer cans and then did a beeline to the picnic table. I pulled my pack into the tent and zipped everything up and hoped for the best. Soon there was more sniffing right by my tent but a shine of the light and more swearing seemed to send the bugger else where for late night snacks."
One time my family was camping by a lake. We were hiking and fishing. One evening, the kids were already in the tent sleeping while the wife and I were just sitting around the campfire enjoying the evening. A skunk came out of the woods into our camp. I told the wife not to move or make any sounds. The skunk came right up to my wife and started weaving in and out and around her legs just as a cat will do. After a few minutes interacting with the wife’s legs, the skunk walked around our camp sniffing and then just walked back into the woods. The skunk didn’t get scared and spray. The skunk was just curious and probably looking for food.
The only issues we've had (so far) were back in pre-barrel days. No bears, just racoons. I am sure they were behaviourally adjusted to people seasonally bringing them free goodies. As were the chipmunks and likely a few bears too, but lIke I say we only encountered the occasional racoon. We always tried to make a stiff challenge out of it, by bagging our food within duffle bags and hanging them "high enough". They saw it as amusing games. Or perhaps just survival. Changing up both gear (going to sealed barrels) and places (going to less travelled routes) has made all the difference. But as in life there are no guarantees. No point to barrels, buckets and bags without clean habits.
