Here’s another bear story for you, from Kate Peters.
Not sure if anyone is still awake, but for those who are watching the last embers die in a largely burnt-out fire pit, here’s a memory from my childhood.
We were camping in Yosemite and I was sharing a pup tent with my sister. Awakened in the night by my sister’s rustling, I watched as she started to leave the tent, then returned very quickly. I guessed she’d gone to “water a tree” and was now ready to continue her delightful night’s rest atop the pine cones and granite chunks. No, I was wrong. She hadn’t accomplished the task. There was a bear in camp!
I laid there, listening to the snufflings and shufflings outside, and to my sib’s moaning and suffering inside, until it was impossible to ignore anymore. Then I extruded from my own sleeping bag and started out of the tent, to “take care of the matter, once and for all.” My plan was to break into an operatic aria and drive the intruder from the arena. (I was about seven years old, I think, but blessed with gigantic lungs.)
It’s probably lucky that our dad had heard my sister’s distress and just then he roared out of the other tent to drive the bear away. My dad (stark naked) was waving his arms and shouting, and that did the trick. The bear hightailed it, my sister got her relief, and I got a memory of my father that I’ll never forget.
Camping, ah what a great life treat. 🙂
Does anyone else have a yarn to share?
My best to all campers and campfire sitters. Kate