Then a huffing, puffing plop ( a summer camp tale of the Berkshires)

[Arabella Porter]

 

      I've always been afraid of the dark and not just as a kid but as an adult as well. But times come when you get sick of your irrational fears and face them for different reasons. My adventure lust will always overpower my fears, especially the most irrational ones like darkness and so this is not only a story of humor and experience but a story of how I finally got over the dark. 

      As many of you know, this past summer (2016) I was a camp counselor at an overnight camp in the Berkshires. And at night, unless we were on night duty (with the kids), we got to do whatever we wanted. Nights are free unless you want to go on the internet which is terrible and can only handle a few people on it at once. Usually I went to the staff lounge and played a rather violent game of jungle speed or joined in on telling the weird accounts of the day (there was always something). But one night, I'm sitting with my friends Gabe (from England) and Daniel (from Hungary). We were so bored that we decided to go for a walk and explore some unlit walking trails through the woods. When we got there, we were all fine. Gabby is as big and hairy as big foot and could probably pass as his own species of bear, Daniel is a very calm and collected person and me, well, I can yell and have a special knack for improvisation when it comes to feeling threatened.

      At one point, we started making bear jokes but as the trail got darker and quieter, I stopped making those jokes and began to realize that we were at the point of no return. It was pitch black and the flashlights only added a sort of Blair Witch aesthetic that teased my nerves quite a bit. The boys began to naturally make fun of me. Gabby started making growling noises and Daniel would hush everyone and say "wait! what was that?" and I would naturally whine at them to stop because honestly, if there was one thing that I wanted to see before I left camp, it was a bear. If there was one thing that I didn't want to encounter on a dark and narrow trail where I can't see where I'm going, it's a bear (or a bob cat as those are more difficult to ward off) 

    We kept walking but at one point, we heard the giant cracking of branches and a sort of groan. We stopped, eyes wide, and kept walking with a bit of haste in our step. After a while, we reached an open field where we sat down and watched the stars. It was absolutely incredible to see the milky way again and I swear, no matter what night sky I am looking up at, no matter how many stars are in it or how many stars I've seen before, I will never feel apathetic to stargazing. I'm a snob about many things but nature is never one of them. I'll appreciate the smallest colorful rock to the tallest pine tree to the boulder I have an urge to sit on top of despite having sat on top of mountains. But enough of this self-righteous bragging. To get to the point: the stars were gorgeous. We talked about how during the day you can see the river bending so beautifully and stories from the day and then we walked over to the river and talked a bit more until we heard this giant splash. 

      There is nothing more terrifying at night in the mountains than hearing something bigger than you are huffing and puffing and groaning after it falls in the water. I was ready to run but if you know anything about encountering predatory wild life, you know that running is probably the worst thing to do in most situations. When you run, you stick to a pattern that predators are used to. They are used to hunting things for food, especially if they know that food is used to being chased. If you run, you show that you are meant to be prey and in that moment, I stretched my arms up and all three of us froze as we heard the giant huffs and puffs get louder with splashing to go with. 

     By that time, we knew it was no bobcat. It could only be one thing: a bear. And in that moment, we exchanged glances and all three of us shouted as loud as we could. Gabby blew his whistle and I swear my ear was about to fall off. There was silence and then we yelled again before sneaking quietly and slowly away, not turning our backs to the river. 

    On the way back, we occasionally heard more huffing and puffing but we kept walking. And not another bear joke was made. Not only that, but I was never afraid of the dark for the rest of the summer.