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I have a number of images, impressions and memories of Yosemite from when we visited with my family, i was 7 years old at the time. What i remember most, is the excitement in the car as we were driving all the way to Yosemite valley. Excitement because i was told that there might be bears, and i was sure i would meet one. In the end i didn’t. I remember how impressed i was by the big rocks and big waterfalls (and i must say that, unlike the garden and the rock in front of our Tarrytown house, they still looked very hugh this time), but the non-meeting with the bears definately left some disappointment lingering on up till this day. |
So this visit, i felt, was an opportunity to do something about that profound childhood desire. Bears are indeed all around you in Yosemite in the repeated signs, warnings, obligatory lockers for food, etc. You are now in bear land, said one of the forms (once more calling visitor’s attention to their mortal fate…) which i had to sign for our stay at Camp 4. Brilliant, i thought, that’s exactely where i want to be. Remains the art of actually meeting a bear.
When i went to sleep under the starry sky on our second night, i realised that there wasn’t so much opportunity left for such a meeting to occur. And then there was the golden chance… marÃa, already tucked away in her sleeping bad in the tent, called me saying she discovered she still had half of a granola bar with her in the tent. Whether i could take it and bring it to the foodlockers. Sure. But once i had this golden granola bar in my hand (with honey, imagine…) my thoughts went other directions. I even tried it out: the granola bar on my improvised pillow next to my face. Couldn’t this be my perfect meeting opportunity with a bear?
I didn’t do it in the end. With all the signs and warnings we already had been exposed by then, it seemed such an irresponsible thing to do (just for individual indulgence into individual bear pleasure…). Oh well. So the desire to meet a bear remains…