I Don’t Believe Bears Are Real- My Time on the Tahoe Rim Trail

I’M ALIVE. Ok you’re probably wondering why I wouldn’t be.. that’s fair. The capital letters might be a little dramatic. BUT maybe they aren’t..? Tell you what, I’ll fill you in on the past two weeks, and then you tell me whether or not I’m crazy (be gentle). 

So I know that in my very first post I promised this wouldn’t be a travel blog. And I’m occasionally a woman of my word. But.. on the other hand, I didn’t walk in a giant 173-mile circle through the woods, brave almost-dehydration, noises in the night that could have been either my sleeping bag or a woman-eating bear, and one extremely crusty pair of socks not to write about it on this blog. So that being said, I’ll make you a deal- this post will be 15% my actual hiking experience, and 85% the drama, the weird encounters, and the embarrassing stories I collected along the way. So let’s get the boring 15% over with first. 

If you haven’t guessed by now, I just finished a through hike of the Tahoe Rim Trail, a 173-ish mile trail that circles Lake Tahoe in both Eastern California and Western Nevada. It’s incredibly beautiful, with crazy scenic views of Lake Tahoe, and just enough elevation gain to be challenging without losing total feeling in your legs. I hiked between 20-25 miles a day for the entire hike (normally closer to 20 than 25 but there was one big day in there), and finished the trail in ~8.5 days, not including a day off in Tahoe City for supplies and a shower. This was by far the strongest I have ever hiked, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t proud of myself, but despite feeling good I am definitely not feeling cocky. That’s the beautiful thing about backpacking- the trail never lets you get cocky. Just when your head gets a little too big, you stab yourself in the ass with a stick and it brings you right back down to reality. So now for the good stuff- my metaphorical (and literal) ‘sticks in the ass’.

Fun fact. I am terrified of bears. Not the cute fuzzy bears that you see in photos on National Geographic or in cartoons on children’s television networks, but the bears that I am convinced are circling my tent every night I camp on trail by myself, just waiting for the chance to pounce, and that I still have yet to actually see. Truthfully I am still afraid to camp alone, even though I have done it plenty of times, and every time I wake up at night I am convinced that I hear a 5’3”-girl-eating animal outside, which then keeps me awake for hours hiding in my sleeping bag, listening for anything I can tell myself passes for footsteps. In summary, I am secretly still 5 years old. Someone get me a tent night-light. Preferably a bright one. 

And forget getting out of my tent to pee in the middle of the night. I will hold that shit until it borderline causes medical problems. But if I do have to leave my little compound, it’s a full-on James Bond mission. Which brings us to night one of my hike. 2:30 am rolls around, and I have to pee like a mother. There is no chance I can wait until 5 am when the sun comes up and all the man-eaters and serial killers go back to their caves. That’s it, I have no choice. So I say goodbye to each piece of my camping gear, thanking them for all their hard work and apologizing that I won’t be able to see it all the way through; I then grab my phone flashlight as slowly and quietly as possible, and open the tent flap about 2 inches. I proceed to stick the phone flashlight out of the 2-inch opening and shine it in a 360-degree search pattern, scanning for eyes, or for hockey masks and chainsaws. With no chainsaws in sight, I literally (and I wish I was exaggerating) tuck and roll like a god damn spy movie out of the tent, get up and run to the nearest tree, the whole time still shining my light in every direction. I pee faster than should be humanly possible, and literally sprint (not run, sprint) back to my tent, dive head first into the opening, and lay there for another hour listening for any animals that might have caught on to my stealth mission and have now decided to come looking for a midnight snack. Needless to say I started off the next day a little tired. 

And this day only got weirder. Originally, I had planned on camping at a spot called South Fork of Dagget Creek. Now, despite being a creek, Dagget Creek does not in fact have any water in it. Silly me. I saw the blue on the map and just assumed. But as I approached the “creek” on mile 21 of an extremely long and hot day, I realized how much truth there is to what my grandmother used to say about assuming. Not only was there no water, but there was no one around, and the only campsites struck me as very “bear-y” (my word for any place that seems creepy enough to support man-eating bear activity). Deeply disturbed by this realization, and very low on water, I checked my map (on my phone- I’m not Indiana Jones). The nearest camping seemed to be at least 5 miles away. I was devastated. But of course instead of staying and logically assuming that people would come and camp here alongside me later in the evening, I shuffled forward. 3 miles later, I saw a woman coming down the trail. I yelled “HEY!!” and waved my arms like a lunatic because I don’t have the social skills to wait until she gets within talking distance, and I was honesty worried that my feet might fall off before I reached her, which would probably distract me from asking her anything. Frantically I asked if she had seen any campsites in the last couple of miles. She of course said no. Dejected and extremely thirsty, I sat down and ate my dinner. After pondering my most recent life choices for quite a while, I got up and reluctantly kept walking. And of course, not 100 yards from where I had been eating my dinner and cursing all things nature-related, was a beautiful, sunny, perfect campsite. I ran towards it and yelled “WOOHOO!” like someone reaching a lake after weeks of wandering through the desert. I threw my backpack off, kicked off my boots and laid on the ground. This was a mistake, because come to find out, my miracle campsite was built on about 20 ant hills. Red ants, to be exact. But there was NO chance that your girl was hiking another foot that day. So I shook the ant colony out of my hair, pitched my tent, and decided I needed to pee. I walked over to the nearest bush. But of course, unbenounced to me, I had chosen a thorn bush. And this thorn bush did NOT like me. To prove it, it first stabbed me right in the ass cheek with a thorn. Hard. I mean made-me-bleed hard. Then, as I yelled and tried to stand up, another one smacked me square in the face. Message clearly received, I went back to my campsite, sat on a rock and promptly got bitten in the same ass cheek by a fire ant. Finally accepting defeat, I crawled up onto a huge boulder across from the site and sat there for the rest of the night, answering questions from all the passers-by about why I was meditating on top of this rock with one sentence: “this is an ant-free zone.” There are at least 10 people out there who now think I am certifiably insane. Personally, I think it was worth the hit to my reputation. 

But you can’t keep a blonde girl down. So the next morning I woke up fresh from a night of short sleep and imaginary bears (which I still haven’t actually seen), and started out the day with a new lease on life. I was gonna make this trail my bitch. I was a modern-day explorer. Freakin’ Lewis and Clark packed into one tiny woman. I lived for the adversity. And with that, my scratched and bug-bitten ass hit the trail. However, by noon I was questioning who was becoming whose bitch. But luckily, that was when I met my girl Mary. Mary is a badass. She lives in San Francisco, and comes up to her place in Lake Tahoe on the weekends to hike sections of the Tahoe Rim Trail, one day at a time. She is planning to finish the whole trail. She is probably in her 60’s but is a total less-than-5-foot-tall firecracker. We passed each other a couple of times, then finally after the third awkward encounter we decided to hike together to where she had parked her car. On this hike, I learned that Mary went on her day hikes almost always alone, because she thought anyone else would just slow her down. And she had hiked 13 miles that day and counting when I met her. Badass. Mary, I want to be like you when I grow up. We then got to her car, and when I started to cross the highway to the other trailhead, Mary insisted on driving me across, because she thought I would get hit by a car. What a doll. On our 30-second drive, she told me I was going to be a part of her hiking story that day. Well Mary, now you’re a part of mine too. 

I hiked another 5 miles to my campsite, which I shared with an entire church youth group. And let me tell you, 9-year-olds can party. While I was taping my blisters they were crushing round after round of camp games. I suddenly felt a little older and a little more boring than usual. But it was comforting to know that if bears came in the night, I may or may not be eaten first. *quick disclaimer- I am actually unsure if bears around here eat people or not- this is just an irrational fear of mine because I am a child that never grew up.* 

The next 2 days got easier and easier. I still didn’t see any blood-thirsty bears, and I began to question their existence altogether (hence the title of this post). I was tired, but I felt good, and my ego got a boost when I got asked out by a few different guys along the trail, despite my disheveled appearance and definite smell. Of course I said no, because why would I want to go out with someone with such weird taste in women, but still it was flattering all the same. I also managed to make friends during these couple days. Once was absolutely by force, but we now follow each other on instagram so I think it still counts. 

On this particular night, I was sitting in my campsite a little upset. I had planned on camping in this spot, but had not planned on it being quite so “bear-y”. So naturally, I was fearful for my life, but I was also too exhausted to keep hiking any farther. However, instead of pitching my tent and eating dinner like a normal backpacker would do, I again took the “weirdo” route, because as you must now know, my life is basically one continuous awkward moment. I decided I was going to plant my butt firmly on a log at the end of my campsite, and wait for passers-by that I hoped I could recruit into camping with me. I’m guessing this is very similar to those people who stand on street corners holding out pamphlets and trying to get you to join their church. “Campsite anyone? Great company, beautiful scenery, only a few fire ants. It can be yours for the low price of entertaining me for the night.” And much to my excitement, after scaring a few day hikers with my much-too-eager greetings, a backpacker did walk by. I waved, but he didn’t seem interested in talking, so I let him walk by without a pamphlet. Now I thought for sure that I would be stranded in this campsite alone without any company. But while I sat pouting on my log, I saw the same backpacker walk by again. Could it be? My dreams were about to come true?? (Ok a little much, but at the time I was pretty desperate for human interaction). He wandered down the path a ways, and I could see him start to set up his camping gear. This was my chance. So I mustered the confidence, got up and walked down the trail to his campsite, and yelled “HEY!” I had clearly scared the shit out of him. But as we started talking, I used my stunning personality to convince him to come camp next to me (or it was because he realized that I wasn’t leaving until he did). But as it turns out, we actually had a great night. He was a teacher, so we stayed up late talking about astronomy, etc, and I felt much better knowing that the 2 of us could take on a bear much better than just myself. So to that random stranger, sorry for scaring you, and for basically forcing you to move your campsite, but thanks for the company… and the phone charger (what a guy). 

The next morning, knowing that I would make one hell of a Jahova’s witness, I set out with a new confidence. But then I reached Tahoe City, and the real drama started. 

Ok I can’t put it off any longer.. I have a confession to make. JERRY MET ME THERE. I know! I know. But what can I say? I like him. If I’m being honest with myself, I have for a long time. So when he texted me a couple days into my hike and said “what if I came and met you for the last few days,” despite all our recent struggles, I just couldn’t say no. So we planned to meet in Tahoe City, stay the night to get Jerry’s backpacking equipment in order, and get back on the trail the next afternoon. And that’s exactly what we did. We each bought crazy hiking hats and mosquito nets, since I’d been warned by several people that the buggiest portion of the trail was coming up, ate a couple good meals, took a shower (me before Jerry arrived, because even though we would be in the woods together for days I still somehow needed to look cute), and that next afternoon we were hiking. 

Now, I’ll be honest again.. I’ve done a lot of self-reflection since the hike, and I’ve decided that I can be a little much. For starters, Jerry was hiking in sneakers, but he still offered to carry the Bear Canister (by far the heaviest part of my gear). And despite these facts, I still kept my normal hiking speed, and we still hiked 20+ miles every day we were on the trail. We finished the last 60 miles in 2.5 days. And boy did we run into some obstacles. It was hot, it was buggier than I’ve ever experienced in my life, it threatened to thunder, we saw signs with only a picture of a bear with a person in its stomach (which can only be taken to mean “man-eating bear area”.. naturally I practically ran the rest of this section). We were exhausted, dirty, sore.. and of course the whole time I kept asking Jerry “isn’t this fun?!” Because who doesn’t enjoy absolutely crushing yourself for the sense of accomplishment you get from walking very, very far? For the record, this is also something that I will be working out with my future therapist. But Jerry was a trooper. He kept up the entire time, and only complained about the mosquitos, which to be fair went for him over me a solid 98% of the time. But despite all of this, I always have fun with Jerry. He makes me laugh almost all the time. He’s at the same time my old friend, and someone I’m coming to care about quickly in a much different way. So we laughed through the mosquitos and the long miles and made it back to Sheila with all of our limbs attached. 

Ok, real talk. The last time I left Jerry’s house, I felt pretty strongly about the hard line I had drawn on relationships. I felt convinced that my life had no room for anyone else, and that I had no interest in it. But I’ve done a lot of thinking since then. And while I am still totally unwilling to sacrifice any aspect of my new life, and my new independence, and while relationships will continue to sit below experiences and adventures on my priority list, I’ve come to realize that my new life could actually be enhanced by having someone to share some of these experiences with. A drastic shift, I know, but I’ve had a lot of time to think about where I really am in life, and I’ve decided that since a huge part of this journey is being open to new experiences, I shouldn’t close myself off to anything that could potentially come across my path- relationships included. 

But don’t get too excited- that’s definitely not where we are at. I’m a big fan of total honesty when it comes to discussing relationships and feelings with guys, and I love to hash out situations as they happen, and make sure that he and I are on the same page, so this is what we did. And despite the fact that I care about him, and I believe the feeling is mutual, there are a few factors that just need more time to play out. So we finished our hike, spent a night in South Lake Tahoe and he left the next day to drive home. But this goodbye was different. Our last goodbye felt final- I was sure that that was it, that we were finished, and that I wouldn’t hear from him again. But this time, I’m not so sure.. so stay tuned, because while it’s paused for the time being, I don’t think this part of my story is over… 😉

But for now, it’s back to me and Sheila against the world- and that’s a damn good place to be. 

Now I know that this post was basically a collection of a few unfortunate stories. But as always, the stories have a point beyond self-deprecating humor. And the point of these few stories in particular is very close to my heart. The point: things that are unknown always scare us. Whether it’s bears, or the dark, or the unknown of how far you can push your body and your mind, or even whether someone you have feelings for feels the same way, and what those feelings could lead to, there is always unknown, and there is always fear. But the question is what do you do with that fear? How do you react when that feeling hits? Are you going to let it cripple you, let it keep you from doing the things you truly want to do, or do you just accept that fear, and go get what you truly want despite it? The choice is of course up to you.. but I can honestly say that the things I’ve been the most afraid to do in my life have always been the most rewarding in the end. 

“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” -Jack Canfield

And with that, Sheila and I are off to keep screwing up- because as afraid as I am of the future, I also can’t wait to to see how beautiful it’s going to be.