TRAVEL LIFE

All Bears Are Cuddly… Right?

Exploits while camping

As we sat in traffic at the Sequoia National Park entrance gate, I looked to my right and captured this photo from the car.

Just a bear, you know, doing bear stuff.

I should’ve seen it as the foreshadowing it was meant to be.

Visiting Sequoia and nearby Kings Canyon National Park had always been on our radar and now we were finally taking the plunge, and tent camping too.

Car fully packed, we arrived at the well-run Lodgepole Camping area in Sequoia and literally lucked into one of the most stupendous first-come-first-serve campsites. The ranger guy at the check-in hut nodded and smiled, as he was in-the-know that we’d scored one of the best, overlooking the rushing Marble Fork Kaweah River and a small waterfall. It was bliss.

Seriously, we couldn’t believe our good fortune — a dream locale, complete with picnic table, fire pit and the ubiquitous Bear Box.

For the uninitiated, most Northern California campsites come with a large metal box and campers are instructed to keep all food and any scented items — including perfumes or body washes — not in your tent and not in even your car, for bears have no compunction about breaking in if they smell something good. The boxes deter them from making a mess and then head off to explore elsewhere.

Being good stewards of camping intelligence, Eddie and I loaded it up properly.

Sequoia did not disappoint — we went to see the namesake giant trees and took in the views atop Moro Rock. I’ve seen the famous redwoods too and my vote still goes to the sequoias! They are just so thick and substantial, almost as tall and such a rich color.

As expected there were plenty of lovely wildlife encounters as well.

We witnessed this deer near our campground area, and later in the day a friendly gentleman informed us that a maybe-day-old fawn was resting in the shade, gathering the strength to try and stand, to face this new world.

And the nearby bears perhaps lingered.

Our second day in, I elected to take a nearby hike to see more scenery, and Eddie opted to stay back at the site to relax. A friend had warned me about maybe purchasing or carrying bear bells when hiking alone, to “announce” yourself to any wildlife as you approach so as not to surprise and agitate them. Since I hadn’t made the investment, I opted to instead hum and sing aloud as I marched along through the glorious forest.

Once again, I was grateful for my luck — the towering mountains and the unique back-and-forth-cascading waterfall were things I’ll never forget.

But apparently I needn’t have worried about bears. It was Eddie, back at the campsite who was getting a close-up look.

I arrived back refreshed, but he looked a bit pale.

“Oh my gosh, I was cleaning up after lunch, I looked over at the bear box and there were these giant brown feet right behind it. And then suddenly this massive bear just wandered into the campsite.”

Thinking quickly, Eddie had done as is instructed in these situations, banged some pots and pans together loudly and stood on the picnic table bench appear as tall as possible.

And apparently the bear, properly impressed upon, moved along down into the rest of the campground to look around.

“He must know how to time it everyday,” Eddie pondered. “Right after lunch he knows there’s gotta be crumbs to find.”

Needless to say, this little camper was so happy to see his partner alive and well.

We were not, however, so well when darkness arrived.

As we climbed under the sleeping bags, we couldn’t help thinking -

“Who in their f-ing right mind would DO this camping thing? Deliberately place yourself somewhere known for bears and other critters and then sleep soundly with only a millimeter of nylon cloth separating you from the jaws of death and those giant claws? Are we insane?”

The nighttime can do crazy things to the mind. But it didn’t help — at all — that less than 15 minutes later there was a giant heavy thump on the ground right by our heads, again, centimeters from us, only separated by a flimsy tent wall. The ground literally shook, and we momentarily felt something bang against our heads through the tent.

What was that?!?

I think it’s the bear. It’s come back to find more food. We’ve set up the tent right along its feeding path —

Shut up, no, it’s not the bear, if it was —

Shhhh, what do we do?!?

We didn’t hear any heavy breathing or smell anything, but the ground certainly shook only a few seconds earlier.

In many a book, I’d read about hearts pounding and leaping out of chests during tense moments, but I didn’t think it was a real thing. I could certainly hear my heart for a good five minutes.

After imminent death seemingly passing by, we sat there in the dark, obviously no closer to legitimately sleeping. I was convinced it wasn’t a bear, but some smaller medium-sized animal simply losing footing and falling out of an above tree and boom, hitting the ground inches from our heads.

And again, my mind said, What kind of idiots go and place a tent in some other creature’s home, some beast’s daily stomping grounds, and then get scared and slightly miffed when those creatures actual deign to walk around and/or fall out of trees?! This is nuts!, forget animals!, we could be killed by falling branches, falling pinecones. A badger could decide he can no longer face the world and pick this location for his suicidal leap!!

It was a rough night. Not much sleep. And in the morning, inspect as we might, there were no signs behind our tent of any indentation or fallen rock or branch or bear prints or anything. A phantom?

We certainly didn’t imagine that menacing thump, that slight indentation in the tent wall next to our heads.

We had one more night already reserved there but alas, the visiting bear had left his mark on our psyche, and we opted to move on to our next destination, Lake Tahoe — hotel room waiting — a day earlier.

It was time.

And I’m embarrassed to say, we haven’t camped in a tent since. Sure, we’ve rented the occasional rustic cabin, but the tent still eludes us.

Like Steven Spielberg said, he never went into the ocean again after making the movie Jaws, because he now had too much respect for the creature in its natural habitat, and they might be mad at him for how he’d portrayed them.

Apart from our encounter with Smokey, Sequoia was magnificent and glorious and I’d recommend it to anyone.

But right on cue, as we were leaving the park, we witnessed another lovely bear being chased away by park rangers trained with noise-makers.

Yeah, we’re outta here — we are humans on their territory, so let them frolic. We will camp elsewhere in the future, perhaps not right next to a river that’s maybe Club Med for Bears.

But it is California after all.May I remind you what’s on the California flag??

Yep, a big old bear.

Bears, one; Campers, zero.

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