Day 3 Tuesday Along with the rest of the berries I had smoked oysters in the tent for breakfast, didn’t finish them all though as my stomach was a little queasy and I had the squirts something fierce this morning. It musta rained a little after lights out because my clothes were still soaked but at least my bug dope was done and since I was still neckid I slathered it on. This stuff really worked good the bugs were scattering like Mohamed parting the Red Sea. Halfway back on the trail from the thunderdome I slipped in the mud and fell I cut both shins and my left shoulder (note to self, first aid kit next time). Arriving back at the tent I was really pissed some animal had shredded the side of the tent, damn raccoons. Hearing rustling from inside I grabbed my paddle and poked the now collapsed tent, instead of a raccoon out came the cutest little bear cub. I did not want this bear to become socialized to people so I gave him a whack with the paddle and he ran off, that’s when I heard a stick break behind me I turned around to see the largest, angriest bear on earth. Now Uncle Jethro always said bears were more afraid of you than you are of them, just then I realized Jethro was a damned liar, come to think of it I don’t think he ever left the East Side of St. Paul. I screamed, the bear roared, I screamed louder, I shit myself. I ran toward the next campsite, the bear followed. Through the trees I heard voices, many voices, Girl Scout voices, I was saved, I pictured myself laughing, sitting by a crackling fire, eating thin mints and doe si does.

Now imagine for a second you’re leading a group of eight girl scouts on a one week trip to the BWCA, you stop to check out the feasibility of a camp site, you hear screaming, suddenly from the trees emerges a 40 year old, fat, naked man. A man completely covered in a black tar like substance, blood, and human feces, screaming some incomprehensible language "something about a bear" you reach for your bear spray. The bear spray hit me full on in the face, I couldn’t breathe, my throat burned, my eyes were on fire. The girl scouts jumped in their canoes and paddled off. The momma bear sauntered away, I swear I heard her laughing. I blindly crawled naked on my hands and knees through the poison Ivy to the edge of the water where I stayed for hours, drinking the cool water, washing my face, and watching a beaver hard at work constructing his lodge about 20 feet away. Upon nightfall I staggered back to my campsite finished the last 12 pack and ate a cold can of Hormel chili. Things couldn’t get much worse I thought, then I remembered my something special, a tall cool 40 oz. bottle of Schlitz malt liquor I had chillin in the lake. I retrieved it, twisted off the screw on cap, held it high like a trophy to human perseverance , when accidently it slipped through my fingers the glass bottle exploding on impact. I crawled under my collapsed tent and cried myself to sleep.