We Natured: The Story of Bears, Rope Swings, and 6 Foot Fish

I'm not inclined to brave the natural world very often, and yet I put myself in situations where I backpack, hike and bike on a regular basis. I'm not entirely sure how this happens in most cases, but this particular "let's go in nature" persuasion went something like:

Father: Kira, would you like to camp with us?
Daughter: [unable to tear herself away from all things technology] Ehh, not really.
Father: There will be s'mores.
Daughter: Okay!

And so, we drove off for a weekend of delicious desserts family bonding time.

Day one induced quite a bit of shock at my departure from makeup (my eyeliner is still recovering from abandonment issues) and lack of both 3G and WiFi. I learned that inflatable kayaks make great napping posts and that camping is a prime activity for puns.

If you've talked to me for more than two seconds gotten to know me, you'll have realized that I love puns. Like, there is no lukewarm affection here. I hard core pun it up until everybody's rolling their eyes and wondering who raised me to tell such terrible jokes.

The answer would be the one person who loves puns more than I do: My father.

Thus, we did what any sane family would do--we decided to have a pun contest that fateful first day. It was a close call, though I must give the crown to my father for announcing that if a six foot fish ran for office, he would run for president of the school board.

The runner up, however, came from yours truly; as my father realized that he needed wood to start a fire, I proclaimed that a "fire would be nice." Would? Wood? Heheheh, gettit?

Days two and three, besides Tarzan-style swinging into a lake, involved getting to know the wild creatures of the Allegheny. The thing about nature-ing, is that you can't pick and choose which wildabeests visit your campsite. If it were up to me, there would be giant eyeshadows roaming about in its natural habitat. While there was nary a trout to be found, I later learned, that creeping at the bottom of the 120 ft lake were 6 ft fish...fish whose bodies were 33% teeth. That's two feet of teeth. All of a sudden, my legs went from swimming machines to appendages that looked eerily similar to smaller fish.

The bad part about 120 ft lakes is that they make it quite possible to drown. The good part about 120 ft lakes is that creatures that roam on the bottom will only see teeny tiny dots on the top. That's quite a journey to get some nice, fishy lunch.

Other creatures one may encounter during one's camping trip are the wild frat boys, mighty music-blarers, roaring motor homes, and nocturnal drunks (same family as the wild frat boys, but may differ in appearance and smell).

Oh, and bears.

During our last night at the camp ground, some family friends visited as we sat around the fire. We weren't terribly loud, nor are we terribly oblivious. However, somehow, sometime in the course of three hours, a bear strolled into the neighboring campsite, dragged an entire bucket of food into the woods, and proceeded to eat all the contents of the bucket, minus the TP. He even sampled a bite of aluminium foil. My stepmother and I both concluded that it was the wild frat boys playing a wild prank on our neighbors before even the thought of bears seeped in.

I suppose he was a rather gentlemanly bear, who wished not to impede on our fireside fun. How courteous of a creature who is about to inhale all food in site.

Living in State College, I never thought I'd have to sleep with a whistle by my side. I was mistaken. 

The hosts later informed us that this bear had been around all summer--he had, in fact, learned how to open up water bottles, was well versed in the art of honey-stealing, and had once stolen a guest's lobster and steak.

At least he has good taste.

Namaste.