Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Close Encounters Of The Ursine Kind

It was a whisper-quiet friday in July, overcast and moonless, and I had just wandered off trail to pitch my tent after night-hiking alone about 6 miles into New Hampshire’s Pemigewasset Wilderness. It was 12:30AM, I was dead tired, and I had the entire contents of my pack spread before me, visible only in 6-inch patches of headlamp light. It was so dark I felt like a scuba diver investigating a deep sea wreck as I placed my sleeping pad and quilt in the tent. ...

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