Human-sized bear burrito

I’ve spent many nights under the stars, far away from civilization, nestled in my hammock, swaying in a mountain breeze. But I’ve never quite had a night like the one I had last weekend. 

Here’s the story:

I am up in the northern reaches of Washington, deep in forests of the Pacific Northwest, taking my friend on her first pack trip. We went over food storage, bears and keeping a clean camp. Ya know, the good stuff. 

Our first night went off without a hitch, the pitter patter of rainfall lulling us to sleep, followed by morning ushered in by soft sunbeams filtering through the trees and the creek babbling happily in the morning light. 

The second night? Far less tranquil. At least for me.

We had just returned from dinner (a good distance from camp), when another group made camp a little too close for comfort, considering it looked like they were ignoring every rule for food storage in bear country. Cue me, at 1 am, sound asleep in my hammock, having fallen asleep to a podcast. (Admittedly, it was a true crime podcast, which only added to the drama of the whole situation.)

Then, all of a sudden. I’m not asleep anymore. 

In my stupor, it took me a second to realize exactly why. You see, the entire lower half of my body had been lifted several inches upwards by something very large, and very furry, walking directly beneath my hammock and coming to a dead stop, for what honestly felt like an eon. 

Cue me shitting my pants, as I realize the only thing big enough to pull this off is a bear! And I, in my hammock, am feeling very much like a human-flavored bear burrito. This furry monster is still just stopped, while I’m essentially sitting on his back. And all I have is my bear spray, which is increasingly less comforting with every passing second. Cool, cool, cool. 

The bear finally saunters off, while my heart rate is pounding a hole through the front of my sternum. It took over an hour to reel in my anxiety & drift back off to sleep. Until 3:45 am, when that bear walked right back through our campsite and directly underneath me. Again. 

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep again that night. 

So I guess that is all to say – please, please, please... Practice safe food storage in the outdoors. Keep a clean camp. Be courteous and aware of where your neighbors are camped and plan accordingly. Their safety could be at stake. 

I’m just lucky it all ended well.

Author: Kristina Marx is one of the Portland Women Who Explore Ambassadors and owner of BaseCampBronco Soapworks