Traipsing the trails of Yosemite, we still haven’t spotted a bear.
But that’s probably no bad thing. One member of our party who shall remain anonymous had a bit of a bear flip on a route march this morning up the valley. We entered a dark and gloomy wood, and by the time we’d convinced whoever that we were not going to get eaten by a bear, we were all seeing phantom bears.
Acting on general advice to make our presence heard, some of the party embarked on a concert of Queen’s greatest hits. Others thought loud roars were appropriate. It was not a pretty set of sounds.
And the bears must have thought so too because we made it unscathed.
Now we are back to worrying about hantavirus and how we contain dust transference into the Chevy on our departure tomorrow.
I’m set to go around and bag everyone’s footwear once they’re all seated in the car. This may be extreme tactics and doesn’t quite solve my own shoe problem. However, the large groups of Japanese tourists all around don’t look unduly worried about footwear, and they ought to know being the masters of clean slippers for particular activities.
Not least I’m (ambivalently) delighted to report that I found “Off the Wall: Death in Yosemite” in the Village Store. A book to be read once safely distant from the place and once the incubation for hantavirus is safely over.
A Chevy for Six, Please 