Growling Terror

Last summer Mike and I were tent camping in the Manistee National Forest and after a full day of fishing and then a little romance we both went to bed. I was awakened from a deep sleep about two o’clock in the morning hearing a low growling sound. I was so scared I didn’t know what to do. After all a tent doesn’t provide much shelter from a marauding bear.

Just two nights before our trip, Mike had rented the movie, Grizzly, about a killer bear in the northwest territory of the United States and I had visions of that bear any minute now tearing through our tent.  I did have some mace along but that just would have gotten the bear mad.  As the growling intensified I was near horror-stricken.  I wondered how Mike could be sleeping through all this.  But then what could even the two of us do against a charging bear. 

My eyes darted to the middle of the tent where I thought I had seen a shadow.  I closed my eyes and turned over ever so slowly to awaken Mike.  Once that I was fully turned over, I gave my husband a good poke in the side.  “Mike, your stomach is growling”.  “Probably didn’t eat enough tonight, hun, go back to bed” was his reply.  I felt like such a dolt.  Next time I’ll make sure my husband has plenty to eat for supper.

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