The raccoon is Tennessee’s state wild animal. (Remember that; it
may come in handy the next time you do a crossword puzzle.) Yet do
a web search on raccoon, and the ads that come up all lead to pest
control.
By Jim Wright
Uniformed Volunteers
The raccoon is Tennessee’s state wild animal. (Remember that; it may come in handy the next time you do a crossword puzzle.) Yet do a web search on raccoon, and the ads that come up all lead to pest control.
The name raccoon comes from the Algonquin Indian word “arakunem,” which means “he who scratches with hands.” The Huron and Iroquois had a less favorable view of this animal; their term, “gahado-goka-gogosa,” meant “masked demon spirit.”
Take your pick for this nocturnal wanderer. Is it an agile provider or annoying pest? Friend or foe? Adaptable survivor or “masked demon spirit”?
Perhaps you join me in having experienced close encounters with raccoons at picnic areas and campgrounds. In recent years, I’ve been robbed of trail snacks while backpacking at Big Basin State Park and observed a serious raccoon onslaught on garbage cans at Pinnacles National Monument.
I began re-thinking my view of raccoons during a recent camping trip at nearby Henry W. Coe State Park. Less than 40 minutes from my home in Morgan Hill is Northern California’s largest (and, in my opinion, one of its most spectacular) state parks. With miles of trails through oak woodlands, rolling grasslands, and pine forests (hike Pine Ridge and you’ll think for a moment you’re in the Sierras), this park offers a picture of pre-development California four seasons a year.
The park has dozens of beautiful backpacking sites. Staying at several of these is definitely on my “to do” list. However, last month I took the easier way out, spending the night (and enjoying the great view) at Henry W. Coe Headquarters Campground.
The people of Henry W. Coe State Park are rightly proud of the many animals to be found within the park’s 86,000 acres. And yet, in the campground, the only reference to an animal is a sign on the outhouse door. The sign warns of “aggressive raccoon activity in the campground.”
I began wondering if theft of a camper’s food would be considered “aggressive raccoon activity.” Or is that just one tactic of a resourceful animal trying to survive in a hostile world?
For many of us, a big pleasure of the outdoors is discovering wildlife. And, of course, finding certain animals may be more thrilling than finding others. If I had to put a number on my wildlife searching in the Henry Coe area, I might give a “one” to seeing a California ground squirrel or a western scrub jay. Perhaps a graceful black-tailed deer is a two and a flitting western tiger swallowtail a three. At four, I might put one of my favorite birds, the California quail, or a wild turkey.
I’d be more surprised to see a coyote, western pond turtles, or one of Henry Coe’s famous tarantulas (at five), or wild pigs (not native, and a definite nuisance) at six. At seven, the colorful California mountain kingsnake, which I recently saw on the Flat Frog Trail, comes to mind. The excitement would increase with a bobcat, or perhaps a golden eagle, at eight. Special nine discoveries (have the camera ready!) would be a grey fox or a badger. At the top, my number 10 finds would be a mountain lion (provided it was headed in the right direction!) or a California condor taking a (very) wide swing over its home base at Pinnacles National Monument.
But a raccoon?
On the negative side, he’s a bandit, with a face mask to prove it. As I was returning to my campsite from an evening hike on Pine Ridge, sure enough, the neighborhood raccoon was on my picnic table, scrounging for food. When I shined a flashlight on him, he ambled down to my tent. There he had the nerve to stop and check for any hidden munchies before wandering off to the next campsite.
But consider the positive side of “Procyon lotor.” He’s built to adapt. He has long canine teeth for eating flesh, but also molar teeth for rounding out his omnivorous diet. He can use his sharp claws for tree climbing and for opening shellfish (as well as candy wrappers.) He nests in hollow trees, but in a pinch can make do with old beaver lodges, hay stacks, or even car bodies. Despite being hunted by Indians, French fur traders, and modern sportsmen, his numbers remain high across most of North America. Overall, he is considered to be among the most intelligent of wild animals.
It’s hard not to admire this survivor. Ultimately, he doesn’t need people. In fact, he’s better off finding his nourishment in nearby hills and streambeds than in campgrounds. Sure, this animal can be a pest and a thief. Yet he is also persistent, full of curiosity, courageous, dexterous, and skillful. When all’s said and done, I’ll side with the people of Tennessee and applaud the raccoon.
Jim Wright recently joined the Uniformed Volunteers at Henry W. Coe State Park. He and his wife live in Morgan Hill, where he teaches a fifth grade class at P. A. Walsh Elementary School. Details: call (408) 779-2728 or email www.coepark.org
