Bear #2/camping at Lake Cushman

Why is it that every time I go camping, someone (or some sign) mentions a bear in the area?

This weekend, Brad and I went camping with his parents and brother over at Lake Cushman on the Olympic peninsula.

Brad's mom had reserved a campsite for us at Skokomish Park right on the lake shore. All of the campsites at the park were packed out, but we lucked out and got one of the more private sites.

Our first night there, it was just Brad, Eric and I camping. And we were in bed by 10.  Like the fun party people that we are.  The next morning, my antsy husband woke up at 6, ran around the lake, came back and lit a fire at the campsite, prepared coffee, and waited for me to wake up.

Brad has a hard time sitting still the first few days of vacation. I may have mentioned this before. It takes him at least a day and a half to calm down and be able to sit still for more than 5 minutes at a time.

After breakfast, we decided that we would go down to the lake and the boys would swim so that Brad had something to do. We left a note for their parents (who were coming down that afternoon at lunch time), and went down to the swimming area.  I sat in a chair and read a book, while Brad and Eric floated around on the lake in an inflatable raft.

I got up to go to the restroom, and posted outside of the restroom door is a clipart picture of a bear, with a sign that said, "Bear spotted in camp!" followed by a list of safe camping practices.  Ugh.

That night after dinner, everyone voted we go for a walk on the trails around the campsite.  The entire time I was worried that a bear was either stalking us in the woods, or that we would go around a bend in the trail and a bear would be sitting there ready to eat me.

It's irrational, I know.

That night, Brad's dad decided to sleep under the stars.  But right as I was falling asleep, I heard him talking to the ranger, and assumed that the ranger had told him that was not allowed.

In the middle of the night, I heard something rustling around in the bushes and was certain a bear was coming to destroy our tent. For a few minutes, I laid very still, listening, and staring at the roof of the tent waiting to be eaten.  Finally, after listening for what seemed like eternity, I figured out that the rustling noise wasn't bushes, but a sleeping bag on top of dried leaves.

Panic for no reason. That's how I do.

All in all, the weekend was a success.  The weather was warm and lovely. And we tied up the weekend with a trip into the nearest town for a lunch of Mexican food and an ice cream cone.

Also, I didn't get eaten by a bear.

Brad, Bron (dad), Eric, and Jacquie (mom)  missing from this photo: me - there's no way I was being photographed after 2 days without a comb or a shampoo.

1 comment:

  1. hehe. glad you've come back home with no bear stories. :)


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