A good experience

The other day, I woke up. Once again, I heard a distinct chewing somewhere near my tent. "Darn those stinkbugs," I said to myself as I proceeded to change into more decent attire (i.e. clothes). I usually take my sweet time in the morning, anything to procrastinate the worst part of the routine, taking down the tent. After I felt I could stay in my tent no longer, I peeked out. To my amazement, I was surrounded, by a herd of bison. I had camped in this spot many times. While the rangers had mentioned to me there was a free-ranging herd in the park, I had never seen it. Now I was closer than my personal comfort could stand. The nearest bull was no more than 30 feet away from the entrance of my tent. For those of you who don't know, bison have a reputation of being somewhat unpredictable, and in some cases, aggressive. So I was a little concerned for my personal safety, especially since I was alone.

My eyes darted to my nearest rescue, my truck. Surely I would be better off in the vehicle, even if I had to leave all my personal belongings sprawled out around camp. I again surveyed my situation, trying the bull out. I crept back into my tent, careful to make no noise, and searched for my keys. In the end I had to remove everything from my bag to find them. Frustrated, I ended up going through the whole gamma of naughty words. Finally, I found my key chain, complete with the 15 keys I must drag around with me at all times for no apparent reason. The stupid thing barely fits in my pocket! Ridiculous! Anyways, I moved back to the entrance of my tent and looked out again. Crap! The bull was no longer chewing. He was looking at me, straight in my eyes (if bison are smart enough to do such a thing, I don't know). He snorted in a mood of warning. Awesome. I thought to myself how I hope to hell my truck door is not locked. With keys in hand, I rushed to the truck door. Crap!!!!! It was locked! So I scrambled to find the right truck key, hearing the bull moving behind me. No time to look. Finally I found the right one, swung open the door, scrambled in (in moments of crises I am never graceful), and slammed the door shut. I breathed a sigh of relief, until I was tossed off the seat. The damn bison was trying to hit my truck! What?!

At the time I did not like the idea of sitting around, stranded, while the bison proceeded to tear up my only escape. So I decided it was time to leave. I turned on the car, put it into four-wheel drive, and then climbed out the small valley towards a small dirt road, mid-way up the hill. Meanwhile, as I continued to drive, the bison followed. And some of his friends decided to join. After I managed to get to the road, I started driving to the park entrance. I hoped the bison would leave me alone after awhile. And sure enough, they did. I needed to get help, because some sort of smoke was floating into the air from the front of my truck. My nervous being strained, the driving helped me relax. I could not believe this happened to me. So strange.

As I am almost to the entrance, I see a group of people in a circle ahead, right at the edge of the forest. As I put-put closer, I was in awe. It is not a group of people. Four grizzly bears were standing on their hind feet, in a circle (if you can form a circle, and not a square, with four bears). Whatever they were doing, it reminded me of some pagan ritual. Except I had interrupted them. And they didn't like it. They dropped to their forefeet, and each in turn, circled towards me. They were huffing and growling. I think I peed a little. I have always been afraid of meeting grizzlies in the wild. What could I do?

I turned the truck around and started moving back towards my camp. A bear jumped into the bed of my truck. Two other large bears started moving towards my door. The locks on the truck are manual, and I had not thought of locking either side. I know from experience bears can break into vehicles. Instead of trying to reach over and lock the passenger side, I started driving as fast as my truck would go, you know, 25 mph. The bears scurried after me, almost keeping up. My mind was racing with ways to shake off these bears, they seemed quite determined. The bison. Maybe the bison.

With plan in mind, I drove back towards camp, a hopeful worry written all over my face. I entered the valley of my camp, and sure enough the bison are still there, ready and waiting. They were eager to see my truck again. As the bison charged the truck, the bears, being in the way, got thrown for a loop. This does not make the bears happy in the least. A huge fight pursued. I sat in awe, shocked that this was actually happening. It was amazing really. The bison chased off the bears into the forest. I knew my time was limited, so I headed back down to my camp. Immediately I began to break down my base. Suddenly, I heard a rumbling in the distance. My heart stopped briefly. I looked up the hill and saw another truck, one of the rangers. He drove down to me and got out. He was older, probably in his 50s, and had been very friendly with me from the beginning.

"Well now. I just thought I'd check in our favorite little researcher," he said, putting on the charm as most old men do when talking to a young, attractive (if I do say so myself) woman.
"But where do you think you're going? Is the field season done already?"

A little more at ease, I told him my harrowing story, aware that I am now sweaty and dirty, and probably barely coherent. Meanwhile, he looked at me with sincere interest, obviously in thoughtful contemplation. After I finished telling the story of my morning, eagerly waiting his response, he said,

"Well if that isn't the biggest fisherman's tale I've ever heard."

And the truth is, it was. Because it is only a dream I had the other night when sleeping in a hotel room in Wendover, Utah.

If anyone else fell for this, don't feel too bad. My mom totally did. But then again, she is pretty gullible.