“In wildness is the preservation of the world.” -Thoreau
Bear Country. That’s all my inner voice kept repeating. Throughout the planning for this trip, nothing incited anxiety within more then the thought that we would be camping in Bear Country. I had nightmares. I stupidly watched you tube videos of bear attacks. I looked up stats on surviving bear attacks(not good). I committed to memory the crucial difference in reaction to aggression from a black bear vs. a grizzly. (Stand tall & wave your arms or slowly retreat. In either case, NEVER RUN.) As we descended the gorgeous eastern road over the Togwotee Pass(9658 ft!) in the Absaroka Mountains into the Tetons, large brown signs began to pop up on the roadside, Wildlife on Road, Do not Feed the Wildlife, Bear Country: Lock up Your Food. Ok, ok, I got it. The bears have the upper hand here. We are just visitors and we are expected to be polite and follow the rules. The penalty for not paying attention and being a good guest is just your life. Whew. Would I sleep at all?
We decided to camp inside the park at Gros Ventre, only 9 miles from Jackson. That proximity gave me the false illusion that I was not in deep wilderness where no one would hear my screams. Upon arrival, the ranger checking us in looked at us sternly and asked if we had ever camped in BEAR COUNTRY before, was it that obvious? Well…no. And we can leave right now if we don’t look up to it, I wanted to say. But he kindly nodded and proceeded to go over the list of items we could not leave out under any circumstances and that included the obvious(bacon, or ANY FOOD) and not so obvious(clean cookware and even the tablecloth you ate on). Got it. The campground was lovely (I’m using an ironic adjective purposely, this is what I was telling myself despite the fact that the nice ranger had told us bears were lurking even if we could not see them). It was a balmy day in the Tetons and our site was surrounded by cottonwoods and bordered by the Gros Ventre river. The magnificent peaks were the backdrop to our home for the next three days. There were surprisingly, a lot of tenters, those brave souls. I had to figure they would be eaten first, being more accessible. I could do this.
Setting up camp, my first job was to take all of our food, and here I was regretting all the spices and condiments and bottled sauces and marinades I had packed, and place it inside the bear box. I put all of our toiletries, the handy wipes, dish soaps, and chapsticks inside. I was getting paranoid that I’d forgotten something. After all, I heard the horror stories of bears ripping apart a car or trailer to eat a forgotten rogue m&m. After everything was placed inside the life-saving bear box, I felt immediately better. But then I thought, isn’t all that smelly goodness inside the bear box only going to attract the bear to our site? Maybe we should just throw it all away, including the sausages, don’t bears love sausages? Alright, I’m going a little insane here but I’m trying to illustrate my state of mind. I was….on edge.
Bears be damned, it was time to explore! The first stop was Jackson, home to 10,529 human beings. I know what you are thinking. Hey, this was the perfect way to ease into the wild country. Visitor Center, check. Eddie Bauer for extra blankets, check. Ultra expensive grocery for picnic fixings, check. Downtown Jackson is a civilized and beautiful western town. The sidewalks are old wooden boards, there are plentiful cool places to eat, a wonderful bakery, a few old saloons, some good outdoor gear shops. We actually bumped into a familiar face from Holland. He lives here and he hasn’t been attacked by a bear. I was feeling much better. Before we left, we purchased the requisite bear spray. The guy at the counter refused to show us how to use it, liability purposes. Seriously? I read and reread the directions. This would be my security blanket in the days to come. Literally. It slept with me for the next three nights.