Camped on North Manitou Island ( a few acres in Lake Michigan). Hung the pack with food high, well out between trees on a rope, just as suggested in the park literature. Had barely laid down in the tent when I heard a ruckus. One of the sunuvaguns, I think not quite full grown, had scooted right out the rope and was on the pack. He saw me, zipped back to the fork the rope was over, and just sat staring back at me. Just when I spoke up to try to wake up my wife to see him, though, he took off. We had to sleep with the food pack and carry it with us as we hiked around. Just before we left the island, we saw his grandpa shuffling along a trail; I never dreamt coons got as big as that one; looked like one of our old farm hogs.