[pct-l] Tent Ground Cloth

[wayneskraft at comcast.net (Wayne Kraft)]

Here's a little factoid for ya:  I had a wet mylar space blanket  
(silver on one side and shiny orange on the other) spread out to dry  
in my garage when the garage was burglarized by a suburban gang of  
raccoons. Apparently there are two things the Northside Racc gangstas  
cannot resist: my dog's food and urinating on mylar.  So brazen were  
these ring-tailed raiders that, when I caught them in the act one  
night, perched atop a counter with the lid removed from my plastic  
dog food tub, their reaction was to EAT FASTER.  I found it necessary  
to arm myself with a broom and actually beat the masked marauders on  
their hind quarters before they would retreat.  Even then my  
purloining procyoninae felt compelled to make one last crackling pass  
through the mylar on their way back to the mean streets of their  
suburban turf.  Now, I am not a man of delicate sensitivities.  I  
grew up on a farm where I was called upon to move vast quantities of  
animal waste to and fro with a bulldozer. Nonetheless,  I found that  
the odor of raccoon urine made me gag and I was forced to discard the  
mylar.  Coyotes and deer have managed to adapt to this suburban  
setting also.  Can black bears be far behind? I think I'd need more  
than a broom.

Wayne Kraft