Of mice and women

Of mice and women, part one 

My sister Bonna had many warnings about bears before her and our friend Shana went backpacking in the Smokies. Bears in the Smokies are notorious for getting into hiker’s food bags. Thankfully the National Park provides suspension cables for hanging food out of the bruins reach. The first night of their 3 day trip, their food bag hung from one of these cables. Someone had left a garbage bag over the hook of the cable to keep the bags from dew and rain. Little did they know that the garbage bag would allow the real terror of the forest to spring into action. 

Next morning Bonna lowered the food bag down from the cable. There were several holes in the side of the food bag. Inside the bag there were nothing but crumbs and mouse scat. The garbage bag had provided the foothold for a small army of rodents to scale the cable’s hook and eat everything, all three days of food. They had no choice but pack up and hike back out to the car, breakfastless. Lesson learned: don’t try to improve on the Ranger’s tried and true bear cables and beware of mice, forget the bears. 

The Forest Service warned that bears would visit the remote historic moonshine cabin at Jones Mountain just outside of Shenandoah National Park. Bonna and Shana hoisted their backpacks armed with mace just in case. The six mile hike to the cabin was without incident.  

Unpacking for a 5 day stay at the cabin was not without incident. The cabin showed evidence of being overrun with mice. A bucket of mouse traps was provided along with whatever food item former hikers felt were too cumbersome to pack out the six miles to the car. A mouse sat and watched them as they cleaned out the cabin. Abandoned food tossed and mouse traps set, they decided not to lay cooking utensils  or food items on any flat surface. They opted instead to hang these items from the rafters. The kitchen looked as if a flood was expected at any moment.  

A system was soon established, Bonna would dispose of any spiders, Shana would deal with any mice in traps, and both would help the other fend off bats as they ran to the outdoor privy. Bonna said she would have felt safer in a tent. 

I have told these stories to give you an idea of how much Bonna and Shana detest mice and the carnage these former plaque-carrying rodents can cause. It was through these two trials, that their resolve and constitutions were forged for what was to come. Their next “rodent run in” can only be described as the most selfless act/acts committed to preserve a loved one’s vacation.  

Bonna and Shana took mom for two weeks of camping in Maine to celebrate her retirement from being an x-ray technician. Working in the emergency room and camping for over 40 years, Mom has just about seen it all - accident victims, skunks climbing her pant leg, gunshot wounds, raccoon intrusions, flaming marshmallows, trauma patients, bears wandering through camp, surgical procedures, you name it.   Mom only has 2 fears, mice and telling dad that something bad has happened to his car. These fears of mom’s are what prompted Shana and Bonna to break interstate trafficking laws. 

Dad and Mom bought a brand new Honda CRV 10 days before the girls left for their New England adventure. This was only the second new car dad had bought in my life time. Hours of test driving and days of intensive research, led dad to purchase what he referred to as “the last car your mother and I will ever need to buy”. Mom’s retirement, rising gas prices and Bonna’s status as favorite daughter caused dad in a moment of weakness to allow them to use it for their trip. “Do not waste the new car smell, keep the windows up” he said as they pulled out of the driveway. 

The first night found the merry band of ladies camping in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. The night was perfect with clear skies, fresh air, and a slight breeze. As they slept an unwelcome visitor was making his home in the new car. He or they had entered, it is believed, through a door left open during unpacking and erecting of the tent. 

Bonna was cleaning out the driver’s side door pocket, when she noticed a bag of trail mix had a hole chewed in it. Discreetly she brought this to Shana’s attention. “Don’t tell Mom!” were the first words out of her mouth. There was mouse in the car and mom must not know at all costs. All evidence was disposed off and a discreet search of the car was conducted while mom was at the bathhouse. No mouse was found, traps would be needed. 

Eating lunch at Bea’s Diner in town, Shana struck up a conversation with Darlene their waitress. When mom excused herself to go to the bathroom, Shana told Darlene their rodent dilemma and found out where mouse traps might be purchased locally. As they left the restaurant, Darlene slipped Shana a small container of peanut butter. “What’s that for?” Mom asked. Shana said Darlene was concerned they might need it snack on for their afternoon hike. Later, Bonna distracted Mom while Shana ran into the store and bought 2 tradition spring traps. 

That evening, when mom wasn’t looking, the traps were baited with the peanut butter and placed under the seats. The next morning both traps were sprung, peanut butter gone and no mice in sight. A new plan was created. Glue traps were needed; these were mice were street smart.  

To be continued….. 

Of Mice and Women, part 2. 

To recap last month’s article: Bonna and our friend Shana were taking Mom to Maine for two weeks of camping as part of celebrating mom’s retirement. While in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, a mouse or mice had taken up residence in the brand new car. The car dad had dubbed “the last car your mother and I will ever need to buy.”  Mom was kept in the dark so she could have plausible deniability if dad found out his car was infested and also for the fact she hates mice. Glue traps were the next logical step since traditional spring traps were of no use, these mice were street-smart. 

The next morning Bonna said she needed to go to the grocery for some fresh green peppers for dinner. Shana distracted Mom while Bonna searched the grocery in vain only to find no glue traps, only spring traps.  

“I need shampoo. Let’s go to the Family Dollar” was Shana’s idea for trying another store. Mom, completely distracted by Shana’s shampoo questions and discussion, never saw Bonna  purchase glue traps and hide them in the car. Never have split ends  been so thoroughly contemplated. 

That evening, Mom became rattled when she saw a mouse run in front of the tent. It was quite clear, keeping Mom in the dark about the car and mice was paramount. As darkness fell, “sisterhood of the trap” sprung into action. Last to the bath house set the traps under the car seats. First back to camp checked the traps. Within an hour, 2 mice were caught in the glue traps. Another diversion was created, and new traps were set under the seats for the night. The “sisterhood” slept sound, confident they had thwarted the mice and maintained the secret of their covert endeavor. 

The next morning plans for packing and leaving for Maine were started. Right on que, Bonna asked Mom if she wanted to accompany her to the bath house. At the bath house laundry, Mom struck up a conversation with a couple who complained mice had gotten into their car and ate a hole in a bag of dog food. Mom sympathized how terrible that must be and was thankful that had not happened to her. Bonna said nothing, only nodding in sympathy.  

Alone, Shana went to dispose of the traps under the seats. To her horror she found a single foot in the trap. No other traces of the intruder were found. Now there was a three legged mouse to contend with. What if it died somewhere in the car? What would Dad say? Driven mad with rage, would the mouse chew the wiring? With time slipping away, Shana removed all traps from the car. The score was now Sisterhood of the trap: 2.25,  Mice: 0.75. But would the mice have the final revenge? 

A few hours later our trio was crossing into Maine and loving every inch of the scenery. When they left there was still a record breaking draught and green flora was in short supply. Maine had plenty of rain, green flora, and flowers bloomed everywhere you looked. Oooh and aaah were heard frequently until a mouse ran past Bonna’s foot on the gas pedal. Bonna’s ooh was a little higher pitch than usual. Shana caught the inflection in her voice and mouthed “mouse?” in the rear mirror from the back seat. Bonna shook her head in the affirmative.  

Then loose change in the door panel started jingling. Bonna sang loudly and danced a jig, while Shana complained bitterly they needed to pull over so she could stretch and go potty. On the horizon was chance to pull off, the Welcome to Maine Visitors Center. Mom, fearing they both had gone mad, agreed this would be a great time to pull over. Mom was really worried when Bonna insisted the car doors stay open the entire pit stop. Shana tried in vain to have Mom walk laps around the parking lot with her. 

Camp life in Maine was much like New Hampshire: diversion, buy traps, diversion, set traps, diversion, check traps, leave doors open at every possible opportunity. No more mice were ever caught. However, a nosey and then very angry squirrel was caught. Left to himself, he eventually got loose leaving an amount of tail fur behind. Mom thought Maine’s squirrels had the mange until she saw others with full, bushy tails. 

This story was recounted to Mom and Dad about 5 weeks after the trip was completed. The car has had no ill effects and the mouse in question is assumed to have been transported across state lines and leads a full and productive life. Perhaps he and the squirrel have formed a support group.