Summer Adventures: A Tidbit From a Month on The Road: Me, myself, and the Bear: Kings Canyon, California Feeling Conflicted: Addressing my Fears & Trying to Do the Right Thing in a high stakes situation

Not too sure how to explain things… but, I think… if I am in a group, and if someone is going to get separated, then that somebody’s going to be me! The rest of the crowd huddled together at the lower end of the trail. In order of animal-type creatures it was: the group of my comrades, me, and then the curious, fuzzy, tawny creature bumbling behind a log by my backpack. But, this was unbeknownst to me; I reached nonchalantly to hoist the 50 pound pack on my back and head up the trail. I was momentarily unaware of his proximity until I turned, only to find myself nose to tawny wet snout. His curious beady eyes peered into mine and the world around me blurred out of focus. “Oh hey dude.” I recall telling the adolescent creature and I turned to head up the trail in the direction toward our evening’s camp destination. To this day, I am still not sure how I kept such composure when I found myself practically snout to nose with an adolescent bear. Now, in order it was: me, a hungry, fuzzy and fumbling friend, and my group of clearly unnerved camper-friends. The bear looked at me, noting my solid stance, two feet firmly planted on the ground, that I was completely unphased by his existence. Then he took a gander in the opposite direction, towards my completely unnerved camp members, and with one bear glance, they turned and began retreating towards the parking lot, bear padding close at their heels— I did not know what to do. Ahhhh Snaps No! I thought. My poor camp members! Clearly unhinged by the bear. Internally conflicted; on one side, feeling I needed help, but on the other side, following a bear, that was an equally bad idea; such wild creatures do not like to feel cornered. So, I turned to head opposite from the situation, to the top of the waterfall, away from my campmates, and headed towards paradise meadows, our camp goal for the evening. But as I looked down the trail, my people were retreating even further with the tawny creature following close behind. Damnit! I thought. Now What? So I waited. Then I waited some more. Then, I pulled the ukulele from my pack and sat, and strummed some chords; the notes filtered up into the oblivion of possibilities and as I waited some more. Then, I climbed to the top of the hill thinking that I could get some clearer perspective on the situation, or maybe see if my camp friends trudged off trail to circumvent the bear and rejoin me at our meeting spot. So I sat there and waited and waited. The sharp tips of the coniferous treetops scraping against a sliced section of piercing blue sky above the canyon mirrored the conflicting scraping in my stomach. Still…not a single sign of my camp members. So I sat; I drank some water. I waited. I pumped some river water and waited. I started hoping they were ok… Should I go find them? As I sat there, reels of thoughts spun in my mind like the falls, directly to my left, inextricably tumbling and roaring over a jutting granite ledge, and falling into a cool pool of turquoise and white nearly fifty feet below. I am not too sure, but I believe at that very moment, I heard the irony bell cut through the distance of time, and ring in my ear. A flash of a moment, two weeks prior, came to focus. John and I were huddled over a map of the Reley Loop. I distinctly hear him recommending that I continue on my own without them. “You got this Erika,” he tells me as we both bend our necks over that map in the REI of San Carlos. My senses snap back to the present canyon world; the muted gray walls towering above me, scraping a now graying sky. The burning heat of my current rock seat has mutated to a dull warm and is pressing against my thighs. My pack, my refuge, is perched on a granite pillar. My reservations sank in at that moment as thoughts reeled, mimicking the tumbling river and clouding my contemplation like the misty haze obscuring the clear pool at the base of the falls. I’ve been camping all my life. I’ve even taken road trips solo for 10 days at a time, but I’d always had my car. Never have I had only myself and a pack to rely on. I hear myself tell myself. “But, isn’t that why you are going on this trip” John’s baritone voice cut through the ether of the past and into the present moment, seeming to reverberate against the opposing walls in a sort of mocking response to my hesitation. I got up and grabbed my pack and I started down the valley. But, this is different I thought and washed the hardcore, do it myself, every being out and alone for this stint of my adventure away, like wipers on a stormy day. The canyon walls, streaked with gray, grew taller, towering every higher above my head as I descended. There are people, but not my people. I ask, “Have you seen…” and I describe my people. “Yes! They were just down there,” and they pointed. “They were afraid of a bear! We saw it, “ they explained. “But, we just went around them.” I rolled my eyes. Oh geese, I thought...Yep! Must be them! Those would be my people. Down the trail… half a mile… no people... One mile…no people. One and a half miles… no people. They can’t be this far down… did they circumvent the trail and come look for me further up? This can’t be good… this can’t be right. I hike back to the falls. Still no sign of people I recognize. I pass some hikers heading down, but they are not my people. I ask if they have seen… and I describe my motley bunch. “Nope. No sign of such a crew,” They reply, but agree to pass a message should they see any humans who match my description. Alas, It’s getting dark, the clouds are reeling in, and I need a place to camp. Darnit! I instantaneously realize. One of my crew members has part of my tent. Darn-it! Darn-it! Darn-it! I guess I’m dirtbag-it alone on a mat tonight under the stars. Paradise Valley, here I come and I turn to trudge back up the hill, yet again. My sixty pound pack feels more like a pile of lead as I snake my way around boulders and through the towering conifers with lush green ferns dusting my calves. And... if it rains, well then... I guess... if I can handle a bear, then I should be able to handle a little rain… Right…? So let’s let this adventure prevail. EPILOGUE: So I get to camp and I luck out with a tent. A nice gentleman voluntarily relinquishes his tent for me. I try to dissuade him, telling him that I was fine under the stars, but he insisted, So, I got to sleep in a nice plush tent. But, that is not the point. The point is: I really don’t know anyone, and I’m in the middle of the wilderness and I’m on some random mountain slope, alone. And… my campmates… my campmates...well who knows… Are they worried…? Are they even ok...are they... alive? Of course they're alive, Leydig; stop freaking out—that bear wasn’t that big. But, what’s on their minds’ right now. I found a cool and calm spot by the side of the river; I could see the canyon towering behind me as I peered into my wavring reflection. God! They must feel awful, leaving a camp mate in the wilderness. What’s going on in John’s mind? He must be in a frenzy about the prospect of calling home. He’d probably call Travis, my housemate. He’s level headed; he can talk almost anyone through anything. But… what about my mom? What if the news gets to my mom…. I could just hear the phone conversation on John’s end “...Now...Ummm…. so... Mrs. Leydig... uhhh...well... I’m not sure how to say this... but, we think... we may have lost Erika; she’s up a canyon somewhere and we are not sure exactly where, but the last we saw her, she was with a bear.” I could just see my mother’s heart attack occur in slow motion in my mind. I could see her stammer backwards, towards a piece of furniture to gain support with the unexpected grave news. Then, my mind shifted to my brother’s reaction. He can be such a jerk! “Geeze leave it to Erika to get caught up in a frenzy… so the GPS tracker AND her phone won’t work. Nice work sis!” So the evening reverie emerging in the calm waters had finalized my decision; I would return from back to base promptly in the morning, which I did… only to find a scribbled note dropped in the driver’s seat of my car that read. “Sorry we lost you. We were disheartened by the bear encounter. We figured you could handle yourself so we decided to go to Yosemite. Peace!”