A small black bear waddled past my car as I was driving into the Lodgepole Campground at the Sequoia & Kings Canyon National Park. After I parked at our reserved spot, I munched on an apple and wrote in my notebook. Soon after my aunt arrived and we set up the tent for sleep time.
The next day we headed out on our backpacking route. We didn’t see anyone past the start of the trail. Once upon a time I was in shape, but the only exercise I've done in months are walks on flat ground. Hiking uphill with a heavy backpack was grueling. Eventually we made it to a lovely spot to set up our campsite.
When it was time to cook food and refill our water bottles, we discovered that the streams around were nearly dry by the fall. We hiked for a while and found a swamp. My aunt tried to filter it, but the water mucked up her filter. Finally, we found a running stream, and we were able to collect enough from that source.
Before we found that stream, I planned to conserve my water. I didn’t drink too much during the hike to the water. And since we were only going to be camping for one night, I figured any dehydration would carry my mind nearer enlightenment.
While trying to filter swamp water, bears were brought up. As there was a sizable population roaming the area, it was essential that we put all of our food into a bear proof canister. Except before we went to search for water I forgot to add my granola bars. As my aunt was talking about it, I began to internally panic. Then on the hike back, I became so paranoid that a bear had destroyed all of our stuff for a damn fig bar that I booked it back, leaving my aunt in the distance.
Fortunately, I returned to a campsite fully intact.
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