And as we tried to sleep in Grayson Highlands on the Appalachian Trail, it became very clear that we weren’t alone. Something heavy breathing and heavy-bodied and a bit clumsy traipsed by the tent huffing like bulls in an Ernest Hemingway story.
Then it sounded like they were eating something nearby and then snorting loudly. We peeked out with a flashlight toward the cattle sounds, and this was when I figured we were dealing with a crazed animal.
The cow, and then another cow, had come into our camp to root around by the fire. But that’s the thing. They weren’t actually rooting around by the fire. They were rooting in the fire. They were licking up then chewing the glowing hot coals from the fire. Then they’d snort out the smoke. In this way they licked the fire clean.