One year ago, at the Adventure Van Expo in Tahoe, we put down our deposit on our Noovo Plus. This year, we thought we’d go back and join the crew as a member of the community of owners who show up for Noovo events.
To avoid Bay Area traffic and to give us time to explore Truckee (it’s been a while), we reserved a campsite at the William Kent Campground, near the western shore of Lake Tahoe.
The campground is lovely, with spacious, spread-out sites, and a few restaurants available just outside the campground, along the lake shore.
The campground offers clean restrooms with flush toilets and showers. It was busy when we were there but still perfectly quiet, serene even.
Walking around the campground, we came upon these odd rock outcroppings. There were no other rock outcropping that we could see in the area.
In addition to RV and tent sites, William Kent has several yurts. None of them were rented when we were there (despite the campground being otherwise nearly full). I was hoping to show you the inside of a yurt but the doors on the ones we tried were locked.
William Kent is a little unusual in that it is nestled tightly within a residential area. There are houses tight up against the fence line all around the property. Online reviews warn of bothersome lights from these houses, and though our site was on an inner loop, we did walk around a bit after sunset and did not notice the houses at all.
Each campsite has a locking box and there are multiple warnings at the gate, online, and in the handouts they give you, to be wary of bears. They want you to lock everything in the box, even if you have an RV. Many campgrounds warn about bears but here they seemed particularly insistent, and for good reason.
On our first night there, after sunset, we came across a pair of young women standing in the road, looking back at their campsite. As we walked up to talk with them to see what was amiss, we saw the bear rummaging through the contents of their open bear box.
The women had used the bear box, diligently locking away all of their food and toiletries and anything with a scent, but when they opened the box briefly to retrieve their ingredients for dinner, the bear came into their camp. It seems the sound of the opening of the metal bear boxes is similar to a dinner bell for the black bears that roam the campground. The bear ate their dinner, then the bear ate all of their supplies.
Two young men in a neighboring campsite arrived with frying pans and wooden spoons, and after banging the pans hard enough, the bear finally scampered away and promptly invaded another campsite. For the next hour or two, despite the near total darkness, you could track the bear’s movements throughout William Kent by the sound of people yelling, banging on things, and for those who came prepared, the steam-train-like sound of air horns.
Later, when things had quieted, Lori and I walked to the nearby bathroom, each standing guard for the other. Sure enough, the bear appeared out of the darkness and circled around us, watching us intently, his circle closing toward us as he walked.
So much for any hopes of cooking dinner outside of the van, or of even having a fire. Even when cooking dinner inside of the van we had to keep the door closed lest the bear pop his head in, trapping us.
My concern was not an overreaction. A year ago, at this same campground, another couple (also Noovo owners) spent the night here and encountered a bear, probably this same bear. They were in their van, all doors closed, in bed at four in the morning, snug and safe, until the bear came. The bear knows how to open unlocked vehicle doors, and it did, sticking its head and forebody into the passenger-side door, trying to get all the way in, blocked only by the passenger seat which had been spun around to face the rear of the van, blocking the bear’s access.
Se we cooked and ate inside the van, doors closed and locked, prisoners in our own campsite.
The next morning, just before dawn, the forest filled with early light, we are about to open the side door and exit the van and Lori says, “I wonder if we will see any bears?” Of course, this is silly. It is far too bright for bears to be roaming about, their time was at night. They were all back in their den or wherever they slept, digesting all of that pasta and cheese and chicken and mayonnaise. There is zero chance that we would see a bear, there is nothing to worry about. I patiently explained all of these rather obvious facts to Lori.
So, Lori pulls the handle, slides the door open, and not one hundred feet away, roaming through other campsites, is a bear.
As we watched, we saw that there wasn’t just one bear, but three, a large bear and two smaller ones, all seemingly skilled at campsite foraging. We walked about a bit, trying to track the bears, and then came upon this lucky fellow.
A camper with his kids had been loading up his flatbed trailer with all manner of coolers and boxes and stuff and more stuff, all held down by straps and netting. The bear, it seems, offered to help, dragging off one of the coolers to the next campsite over, expertly going through each item, opening bags, unscrewing the lids of jars, feasting on all that Sam’s Warehouse had to offer.
The bear was unconcerned about us and we approached to within twenty feet or so, taking pictures, marveling at the power of habituation. The camper who lost the cooler was hurriedly loading the remainder of his things, his little girl thrilled at the turn of events.
The bear, as we understand, takes the food tour of William Kent most every night and is a favorite among the locals, who have named it and protect it.
It was a lovely campsite. We won’t be coming back.
