Does a Playwright Butt Sneeze in the Woods?

I was in Fresno the other day and came within 60 feet of a couple of bears. I don’t know if “yes” is the answer to the old saying “does a bear sh*t in the woods?” but I do know the answer is yes to “does a writer crap his pants when he comes within 60 feet of a couple of bears in the woods?”

Yosemite Park

It all started innocently enough. I was in Fresno for an adoption reunion last weekend and took a side trip to Yosemite National Park. The park is majestic. The drive in from Fresno is amazing. And so on. Truly an amazing place.

I read a lot about the park and was prepared for huge crowds and nightmarish driving. It wasn’t so bad. Got there about noon, found rockstar parking right next to the shuttle, and couldn’t see teeming hordes of people anywhere.

We spent all of our time in Yosemite Valley  and it was hot. Really hot. In the 90s hot. And the valley is about 3800 feet above sea level. I get altitude sickness when I go upstairs in my house so I was really feeling it. We took the free shuttle around the valley and got off to hike up to Mirror Lake. The hike was on a paved road. So much for roughing it. Since it’s August, most of the melted snow that creates the magnificent waterfalls is long gone. Mirror Lake was a dry bed. We got to walk around in the lake and my daughter, stick in hand, looked like Moses crossing the desert. You know, if Moses was a 9-year old Chinese girl.

So far so good. We saw a bluejay, a squirrel and some chipmunks. I couldn’t wait until I could spin yarns to my fellow members of The Explorers Club.

The Bear Necessities

And then we decided to hike to the stables. What’s the best way to find the stables? Follow the horse excreta, naturally. So off we went down the horse trail, braving the great outdoors and piles of poo. After a grueling 15 minutes in God’s country, we looked across a meadow and saw our destination. We also happened to see a couple of bears. About 60 feet away. I’m not sure but they looked like bear cubs. Big bear cubs. And where there are bear cubs there’s a protective mother bear. With nothing but my fear between us and the bears, and not wanting to be on TV as the victim of a brutal bear mauling, my superhuman survival training kicked into overdrive and I said, in a panicked whisper, “I need new underwear.”  We hightailed it out of there, with me leaving a path of playwright pies for the next hikers to follow to the stables.

I can’t wait to go back to Yosemite again and see some more bears there, but a bit further away then pissing distance.

Here’s what I imagined was going to happen. Warning: It’s a tad graphic.