When Beavers Attack

Out for a morning constitutional, I came upon a really big beaver on the Willamette. I was easing up on him, down wind. He sniffs, turns and looks at me from about 10 meters. He eyes my Pygmy like a starving man eying an ettoufee, thick with andouille sausage, shrimps and okra, a chunk of garlic bread dripping with butter, a tall glass of cold whole milk, and a creme bruler. Starts chugging right at me.

My mind flashes on the infamous Jimmy Carter canoe rabbit attack. That beast was actually a nutria (nutrium?), the only slightly less vicious step brother of the beaver. At about 5 meters he slaps tail and dives. Can't out run him; I'll sit and fight. I wait, listening, like the guys in "Das Boot", for the terrifying sounds of gnawing on my hull. The seconds tick by. I haul booty. Unscathed... this time.

About 15 minutes later, I spot a coyote loping along the bank below the tank farm. I turn, and give chase. Got a good tailwind; throttle up the HP and start gaining on him, but he loses me in the brush.

It was a good morning.

Back to the PaddleWise home page.