|
Bear!
The summer I graduated from high school (1976), my best friend Craig and I took off on a four week tour of the western US in my '74 Dodge Charger. He was 18, I was still 17.
Made our way though TX, NM, CO, WY, MT, ID, WA, OR, then into CA. Made our way through San Francisco. The windowpane the smelly hippy sells at Fisherman's Wharf is shit. Got chased out of a campground near Yosemite by Hell's Angels. So on into Yosemite.
Parked at Glacier Point to hike up behind Half Dome. Saw rattlesnake along the way. Get to camp behind Half Dome. Many people around, even one large group of about 30 people together. Everyone eats early, and the climbers help us all put our food away in the trees where the bears can't get at it. So far all OK.
Craig had some vodka, so we kept some orange juice to mix it with. A little later, we are feeling good. Crackling fire, beautiful scenery. It gets dark. I hear a little rustle in the bushes behind us. I think it is someone from the large party coming to invite us back over. I turn around, and I am four feet away from a 300 pound black bear.
I say OMG. We do a panic walk away. No running. Start yelling 'bear in the camp!' when we think we are are clear. Flashlights go crazy all around like in E.T. Spent most of the rest of night with the big group.
Later back at camp our shit had been rummaged through, but fortunately not destroyed.
I consider it my closest brush with death.
|