I knew coyotes would steer clear of me, but I wondered whether the black bears had gotten the memo. I retrieved the bear spray from the Pilot and set it next to my chair. I also grabbed a headlamp and a book and sat back down. As the imaginary bears drew closer, every crack, snap, grunt and yip yanked me from my reading as I nervously raked the tree line with my headlamp. I was tearing through Meditations by Marcus Aurelius three words at a time, distracted every 0.7 seconds by the sound of a charging bear.

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