A woman I know decided she wanted to live in an old one room cabin up in the mountains near me. There are no roads going up to it, so she had a horse to get her and supplies to it. She managed to stay there about a year and a half before things really started becoming difficult. First, her horse slipped and broke its leg as it fell down a ravine. Then one night a bear decided it smelled something good inside the cabin and wanted in. She was asleep in bed when the door came crashing down with the bear on top of it. Fortunately for her she kept a rifle next to the bed. The bear wasn’t so fortunate. She gave up her mountain woman way of life shortly there after.
Last time I went up to that cabin it had reverted back to its dilapidated former condition, with the windows broken out and the door off its hinges. Somebody had pitched a tent inside and there were Mexican food stuffs on some makeshift shelves. There were also all kinds of gardening tools and rolls of irrigation lines scattered about. I was kinda hoping that the dope grower who had taken up residence had either been eaten by another bear or been scared off.