A Million Little Pieces Of My Mind

My co-op buddies and I made a number of hiking trips; we drove to the mountains almost every weekend. Mike knew how to look up hiking trails and would then recommend one. Dick knew how to make arbitrarily long tents out of sheets of plastic, clamps, and ties to nearby trees. But one of these trips stands out, because it was the occurrence of my first Bear Encounter.

This particular trail was called White Oak Canyon, in the Shenandoah National Park. As usual, we got a late start; it was already getting dark as we descended into the canyon. Since only Mike had studied the trail in advance, only he had an idea where we might camp. But every place that was almost suitable, wasn't quite right.

Eventually it was full-on dark. Luckily we found a fairly flat spot next to a house-sized boulder. In the light of our now-dying flashlights, Dick unrolled a section of the plastic tarp, pulled out the grabbers and rope, and soon we had a long tent in which the four of us could lay out. Dick, who for some reason was afraid of bears (which had never bothered him before), chose one end of the tent as his, and barricaded it with all our backpacks and stuff. He also put all our food in a container which he then hoisted over us from a tree limb. That was at Mike's and my urging. Dick was afraid if we hung the food, any bears might get "mad" at us for doing so.

We were, of course, absolutely exhausted by this point and crashed after gobbling a couple sandwiches. The night was warm, so we stripped in the dark to our skivvies (or, in my case, nothing since I hadn't worn underwear in years), crawled into our sleeping bags, and went to sleep.

…Only, in my case, to awaken not long after with my stomach demanding I find a convenient rest room without delay. I wasn't worried about finding my clothes, but I did want to put my shoes on. Alas, in the dark I could only feel for shoes; and none of them felt like mine! Plus, the urgency was growing logarithmically. So I gave up on the shoes and settled for a flashlight I came upon, even though it was dead. But I took it with me anyway.

My idea was to locate, by feel, the house-sized boulder we'd camped next to, and to make my way to the far side of it. But it was tough going, as my bare feet kept slipping between the loose stones and dangling into scary voids. Finally, I found a spot I felt was distant enough to spare my tent-mates the sounds and smells of my latest adventure. I squatted, and realized someone was walking towards me. Loudly.

Of course, I assumed I had awakened Rick, over whom I had to crawl to leave the tent. "Rick!" I called. I'm over here!" The footsteps stopped abruptly, but there was no reply, and then they resumed. "Mike? I'm over here!" (As if Mike wouldn't have answered when I called Rick!) This time, the steps slowed but continued. And, honestly, my thought was that this was some other human, wandering in the woods late at night without a flashlight.

But I had a flashlight; even though it was ostensibly dead, the batteries we used in those days sometimes could get up a little bit of a charge if you shook them hard enough. So I shook the flashlight as hard as I could, then hit the button.

The flashlight projected a dim, red light…right onto the face of a bear, not six feet from me.

We both screamed, and ran in opposite directions. After a minute or so, I realized I could no longer hear the bear, who was probably in the next county by then. But I had no idea where I was. The flashlight was now completely dead, the sky was moonless, starless and overcast, and my only clue was the sound of the river.

Interestingly, I never freaked out or panicked. I knew that, at the absolute worst, I could sit in the dark until morning. It wouldn't be comfortable, but I wouldn't die. The worst thing would be if someone with whom I wasn't camping, found me first in the morning, naked and barefoot.

So I made my way downhill toward the water, then headed downstream in the direction I'd come from. When I felt like I'd gone the same distance I ran, I started yelling for my buddies. Sure enough, Rick followed my voice; then we both followed the voices of Dick and Mike back to camp.

I explained I had gotten lost while going to the bathroom. I did not say anything about the bear, until morning. The, when I told the whole story, Dick was aghast.

"If I'd known there was a bear around here, I'd had headed right back to the car!" He cried indignantly. We all stared at him. "So I guess it's just as well you didn't say anything."