We all retire to our tents and try our best to get some sleep. I don't know about Grayson and Brandon, but I didn't get to sleep until about 2:00 a.m. as I lied there staring at the top of my tent while caressing my own BFK which was resting on my chest. I was very still and thought silly thoughts such as how my small one-person tent probably resembled a giant burrito and if BFB even liked burritos. Luckily I did finally manage to get some sleep.
The next morning I am the first one up (go figure) and I meander down the path to check on our bear bags. I don't have to go very far before my jaw drops and my mind screams... WTF! (no, that doesn't stand for Win-The-Future). When I was younger, my aunts and uncles would often take us kids on a late night stroll through the woods in an attempt to scare the snot out of us. This stroll was referred to as a "bear hunt" and we would all chant the chorus line of "There ain't no bears out this night, Grandpa shot them all last night" as we nervously waited for one of the older adults to jump out of the woods and send us all running back to the house vowing never to go into the woods late at night all alone. Well, all I have to say is that apparently Grandpa missed one! Our camp had been invaded over the night by one or more very smart bears.
Upon approaching the "crime scene" I noticed that there was one bag still hanging. Who was the lucky winner? You guessed it... not me. For some reason the bear didn't touch Grayson's bag. Instead it totally destroyed my bag and Brandon's bag. Nothing was left except a bunch of trash with a heavy presence of bear slobber all over it. The bears are now clever enough to figure out how the bags are hanging outside of its reach. It had clawed at both lines which lowered the bags just enough for it to grab whatever it wanted. I think its not too long before the bears figure out how to quietly unzip tents and drag hikers off into the woods. Anyway, we picked up our trash and then sat down to reassess the situation.
The next morning I am the first one up (go figure) and I meander down the path to check on our bear bags. I don't have to go very far before my jaw drops and my mind screams... WTF! (no, that doesn't stand for Win-The-Future). When I was younger, my aunts and uncles would often take us kids on a late night stroll through the woods in an attempt to scare the snot out of us. This stroll was referred to as a "bear hunt" and we would all chant the chorus line of "There ain't no bears out this night, Grandpa shot them all last night" as we nervously waited for one of the older adults to jump out of the woods and send us all running back to the house vowing never to go into the woods late at night all alone. Well, all I have to say is that apparently Grandpa missed one! Our camp had been invaded over the night by one or more very smart bears.
Upon approaching the "crime scene" I noticed that there was one bag still hanging. Who was the lucky winner? You guessed it... not me. For some reason the bear didn't touch Grayson's bag. Instead it totally destroyed my bag and Brandon's bag. Nothing was left except a bunch of trash with a heavy presence of bear slobber all over it. The bears are now clever enough to figure out how the bags are hanging outside of its reach. It had clawed at both lines which lowered the bags just enough for it to grab whatever it wanted. I think its not too long before the bears figure out how to quietly unzip tents and drag hikers off into the woods. Anyway, we picked up our trash and then sat down to reassess the situation.
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