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Logan Franklin The Bears Won't Know It Summer, 1969 Rich was a big guy but Danny was huge. Danny had been drafted out of college as a football lineman by Vince Lombardi’s Green Bay Packers. He injured his shoulder in training camp, ending the possibility of a pro-football career. Rich had been a football lineman, too, and now they both played rugby. Don Randall and I were friends with Rich and Danny and over beers one night the four of us decided to go on a backpack trip. Since I had been backpacking before it was left to me to do the planning. I picked the Sierra high country above the Hetch-Hetchy Reservoir. Hetch-Hetchy is within the Yosemite National Park boundaries but far from the beautiful but touristy Yosemite Valley. Our plans were to go out for five to seven days. As mentioned, Rich and Danny were big, rugged guys but new to wilderness backpacking. Don hiked and worked out but I’m not sure if he had been on any mountain trips lasting several days. Late one afternoon on our third or fourth day, we surprised a large black bear crossing the trail not more than 15 or 20 yards ahead of us. When the animal saw us it took off into the woods like a runaway diesel truck, crashing through the underbrush and breaking thick tree branches in its path like they were twigs. Adult black bears are big but not as big as grizzlies, nor are they as dangerous. Generally, there is no real danger from them unless a mama bear should think her cubs are threatened, or you do something pretty stupid like offering food. Still, a surprise encounter jolts you. Seeing the animal that close you realize its potential should it feel threatened and come after you. The sun was going down and we were looking for a place to spread out our sleeping bags for the night and we couldn’t seem to find a spot wide enough. There was dense forest on one side of the trail and steep downhill on the other. We had been walking for hours and were feeling the weight of our packs. Everyone was tired. Since I had planned the trip the three of them were giving me hell about “poor planning.” It got dark and we were still looking for a spot. Finally, there was a small clearing, just wide enough to spread out four sleeping bags and that’s about all. We quickly made camp. As tired as we were when we got into the bags, no one could sleep. As we lay there in the quiet, we heard little sounds in the forest. A twig would snap; there would be rustling leaves. Then silence again. We listened. Don mentioned the bear we had seen. No one said anything, then . . . “I’m not coming up here again without a rifle,” Rich said. “A rifle? This is a national park! You can’t bring a rifle into a national park!” Danny said. “I’ll remove the firing pin," Rich said. "Then I can." “Now what the hell good is a rifle without a firing pin?” Danny said. “Hey, the bears won’t know it doesn’t have one,” Rich said.
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