Once upon a time I heard the snap of a twig in the middle of the night and I wondered what could that be.
And then I tried to go back to sleep.
My friend who I was camping with shook me awake and said
“It’s a fucking bear!”
To which I sleepily replied
“Youre drunk! Go back to sleep!”
I would like to say that the story ended there but I was apparently wrong.
The next morning it was quite clear as dawn broke on our campsite; it was in fact a fucking bear and that bear tore our shit up! I woke up the next morning my mind set on hot coffee and cold OJ to a destroyed camp site.
That lush of a bear had consumed all of our vodka and all of our lemons. There would be no vodka tonics for the rest of the camping trip.
I was obviously pissed.
And that’s what happens when you camp in non-bear country during a drought and you don’t use the random bear box that was left by the previous guests. Lesson learned on that fateful camping trip; you may not be in bear country, but if there is a bear box use the fucking bear box.
