I went camping with my family this weekend. We drove way up north and set up our tent and did the whole Griswold Family Car Camping thing in one of the state campgrounds (read: Right next to the highway and surrounded by drunk people). We've done this trip before so we totally knew what we were getting into and we'd adjusted our expectations appropriately. The thing we didn't plan for?
Bears.
Okay- bear. Singular. Two of the three nights, we were awakened by horns honking and cursing and banging and people shouting "Git out of there! Git Bear! Git!"
Lovely.
Now, in past years I would have been nervous about this. You know- me, my babies (and my husband- I guess I should mention him too)- all within earshot of 250- 300 pounds of black bear. But I was just...annoyed. The way you'd be annoyed if you looked out and saw a raccoon in your campsite. Much more "oh hell" than, "Oh SHIT!!!"
That's what we call Backwoods Badass, I guess.
:)
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