My father took us kids up to Mt. Lassen Volcanic National Park in a big RV. Us kids were ecstatic about camping and traveling to the wide-open spaces of our beautiful California Wildernesses. Well, during the 70's, there was a much higher population of bears throughout these parks and warning signs were abundant telling all campers, "Don't leave any food product outdoors, keep all food inside your vehicles, bears live in the area." No doubt that my father was an amazing outdoorsman who was proud to show us the kids the ropes of just about anything to do with being outdoors. Well, one gorgeous evening while camping in Mt. Lassen, my father took our family's giant, orange ice-chest, which was packed to the brim with food, and scooted it just under the very back end of the RV.  I watched him as he shimmied the big ice-chest under the rear overhang of the RV, and I asked my dad, "Hey dad, aren't you supposed to put that in our camper?" My father replied, "This will be ok because it fits right under the RV, and the ice-chest clearance to the RV is only an inch or two....a bear can't get at it." My 11-year-old self thought, my dad should be following the rules but oh well, he's my dad and he's great! 

We slept like heavy rocks in our cozy RV that night. I remember waking up before my parents and I summoned my sister to come outside with me to play. I remember my sister walking away from the RV about 20 feet or so and turning around to look at me as I was coming down the doorsteps. My sister stopped dead in her tracks. The look on her face was one that is forever imprinted in my core memory. She was staring wide-eyed at the back end of our RV,  her mouth agape. I immediately looked in that direction and what I saw was deserving of a news publication or broadcast that exemplifies what happened to a family of 4 when they didn't follow the Park Ranger's rules or heed bear warnings.  

The back of the RV looked like it was growing about 400 pounds of thick black fur. The gelatinous looking black pricklies were stuck all over the bumper, back window, ladder, tires, and all over the ground. Our giant, orange ice-chest was tipped on its side, slathered in black fur while the lid was leaning against the back bumper -- looking as if it was gently place there in a polite sort of way. The Komora's vacation food debris field was wide and long. Strewn about as far as the eye could see, were remnants of what our poor stomachs would be missing in the weeks to come, 2 full tubs of Country-Crock butter, 6 pounds of rib-eye steaks, 2 dozen hot-dogs with the buns, 8 hamburger patties,  again with the buns, a pound of bacon, a gallon of whole milk, a pint of cream, 2 dozen eggs, a jar of jam, and a twelve pack of Pepsi Cola - of which all the cans had teeth puncture marks into their sides, but the bear must have rejected the cola itself because they were about half full. Too fizzy for him? We can only assume. 

So, my father had to report this to the park's Ranger, and he sheepishly turned himself in. Us kids stood there as the Park Ranger looked around and assessed the terrain of the bombed-out-bear-smorgasbord. I don't remember if my dad was scolded by the Park Ranger but I'm sure that guy asked my dad, "Sir, what in the world were you thinking?"  My dad had a lot of pride in his knowledge of the outdoors, and this threw him for a loop.  I remember my dad saying, "Well, this is a lesson for all of us..." I immediately thought, wait a minute, I asked him about his decision to put the ice-chest there in the first place and I'm only eleven!! But my dad went on to say that bears are smarter than he thought. Powerful. Hungry. Fierce and wild. And we need to notice them, not ignore the fact they own the place, and that we are merely visitors to their town. I remember feeling like us humans really have no control over nature and that it's going to move the way it wants to -- whether we try to outsmart it or not. I felt a real sense of respect to that bear, or bears. This imprinted on me because it was more than the bear eating all of our vacation food, it was my father's lesson to us kids, the way he handled it and understood it, no anger, no frustration, no disgrace. Just a lapse in judgement which I now see he most likely thought it could have been much worse knowing his 2 children were sleeping in the overhang just over the big orange ice-chest.  He never mentioned that, but I could sense that he felt that responsibility. He accepted it and through his unspoken regret, he made the best jokes out of it, and we laughed hysterically. He joked - hoping that the culprit bear had one big bellyache that night. We laughed and laughed. We are still laughing about it.