My first weekend in Yellowstone, two of my friends asked me separately if I wanted to go camping. Okay, I said hesitantly. It’d be an adventure, sure.
Cascade Lake would become my favourite place to camp throughout my two seasons–being only a 3 mile hike from the dorms at Canyon, it was really easy to plan and do impulsively.
This time, we came to our campsite and set up the tent. One friend went off to gather firewood. After perhaps half an hour or so, my other friend and I began wondering about him. When we thought we heard him calling out that he was lost, we decided to look for him.
We were clambering up a hill when all of a sudden, my friend grabbed my hand, pulling me to a stop. He pointed, and I saw less than fifty feet away a bear lumbering past.
When one encounters a bear, the last thing one should do is run or move too abruptly. As such, my friend pulled me off and we were running through fallen trees, tripping and stumbling by streams of water.
Thankfully, the bear didn’t pay us much heed, and we were soon far out of reach.
When we arrived back at the campsite, our friend was fine and not lost at all.