My pal was having a hard time. It was worrisome to say the least. A bad breakup plus a few other misfortunate events had triggered a booze-laden bender that had gone on far too long. With nature and hiking being some of the best medicine, as well as a favored shared pastime of ours, I suggested a weekend exploring Yosemite Country.

My friend had never been to Yosemite, much to my surprise given her adventurous nature. She had grown up on the Washington Coast, and was stunningly gorgeous, tough, and independent. I had always admired her spirit, and it was lame to see her hurting. I was hoping a quick weekend jaunt through one of the most wonderful places in the world would be just what the doctor ordered.

The Yosemite Valley wasn’t too far for us, just a quick 4 hour drive east. My friend had showed up riddled with single-use cups, camp goods, and booze, which should have been the first omen to what lie ahead.

A couple hours into our journey, I realized there was more in her coffee than cream, as she was pretty buzzed. We pulled into camp and set up quickly. My friend was surprisingly efficient given her state. It was still pretty early but I had lost any hope for a hike that day. I decided to play the role of tour guide and, inevitably, counselor as well.

It was August, or in California, what I like to call fire month. The charred smell and hazy, smokey air have become normal for this time of year. Yosemite was no different. It was 2020 and along with the raging pandemic, California was on fire basically everywhere.

There is no time for adventure to wait, not ever, not now.

I gave my buddy some food and thew her in the car to go see the sights. We drove The Valley floor taking some photos here and there. She is a hobby photographer with a fantastic set of gear. She has always been passionate about the outdoors, sport, and adventure and I was hoping this trip would help her remember that.

We journeyed over Tioga Pass. The fantastic views were there, but were a bit hidden from the smoke-riddled skies. Coming down into Mono Valley is always breathtaking, and this day was no different.

The smoky skies played with the light across Mono Lake and created the most gorgeous reflections. You could not tell where the lake ended and the sky begun. Mono Lake is such a special place to me. Aside from the fantastic geology and stinky little brine shrimp, Mono Lake and Lee Vining are home to an epic litigious battle over water rights. This sweet small town vs. the giants of Los Angeles Department of Water and Power. (I highly recommend learning more about this, or reading or watching Cadillac Desert).

Clink!!

I looked back to see my buddy cracking a cold one. It was early afternoon now and time for more food and to head back to camp. We drove through June Lake and stopped at the ever-wonderful, Tiger Bar so I could shove as much pub food down my friend’s gullet as possible. After a margarita it was obvious that my buddy was about to go full-send, so it was definitely time to head back to camp.

The drive back consisted of a lot of the usual break-up shit-talk as well as an exhaustive amount of consoling. I hoped my buddy hadn’t drank all the beers because after the day of adult babysitting, I definitely needed one. The trip wasn’t what I expected, but at least I was still in Yosemite.

We arrived at camp just in time to start cooking up dinner. My buddy was pretty sauced at this point, so after we ate, we packed everything into the bear bin, cleaned the car and campsite, and went to our respective tents.

1AM. What is that crinkling?????

I sit up, with my small but fierce rat terrier, wary, quiet, and a bit afraid. I looked in the direction of the crinkling and see a shadow lurking in my car. I quietly call to my friend, who is no where to be seen. After watching the figure for a few seconds I see a light flicker, a cell phone light! I crawled out of my tent to find my buddy in the car, charging her cellphone, talking with her ex, and eating leftover Mexican food. I remind her we are in bear country and to clean up when she is done.

2 AM. What is that crinkling?????

I didn’t realize my friend was such a night time snacker. Except this time she wasn’t. This time when I peeked out of my tent I saw a good-sized bear, shredding through my car.

Damnit.

I whisper-yelled to my friend in the tent next door, proclaiming that there was a huge bear in my car and that she forgot to pack up the food she was eating. I’m not going to lie either, I was afraid and, in this situation at least, my friend was the brave one.

She seemed unbothered and assured. “Don’t worry” she said, “they are smart and it will know to leave if I chase it.” Okay, whatever. I remembered a joke my grandpa used to tell, about not needing to be faster than the bear, just whoever you were with. But this was not a joke and this was my friend. Instead of cozy slumber under Yosemite’s stars, we would be chasing a bear.

My friend was bold and brave. Likely empowered at least a little bit by the whiskies. She darted out of the tent and into the night towards the car. I could see the shadow of the bear just in front of her.

Just then I realized I was still in the tent, like a giant weenie. I had to get out and at least pretend to provide some kind of backup for my friend. I followed her into the night. I met my friend walking back on the road just a bit ahead. For she had already accomplished the mission, and she did it bare-butt naked. Her bear-chasing boobies bounced and swayed as she jogged back toward me assuredly. “Bears gone”, she said, suddenly speaking with the twang of an Arkansas moonshiner.

Ok. But knowing Yosemite, and a tiny bit about bears, I knew this was not the end of our evening, and it wasn’t. We cleaned up the food my friend had left in the car, but through the night I watched her chase three separate bear away, all bare-naked. One huge bear, well larger the size of my tiny backpacking tent, walked within feet of me leaving my tiny rat terrier speechless for the first time in his life, and me sleepless for the rest of the night.

I lay awake for most of the night, feeling bad for the negligence of my friend and embarrassed she had broken the cardinal rule of bear country. That feeling of guilt by association was of course there as well. I wondered if any neighbor campers had seen the spectacle.

Morning did not come early, as I was awake most of the night and eager to do something fun. When I emerged from my tent I found my buddy with her hair of the dog, and all hopes for a hike that day went out the window.

Our trip ended shortly after, and her consideration as an adventure buddy in the future disappeared. But the story remains, as does the visual memory of watching my butt-naked buddy chase off Yosemite’s black bears into the night.