(1) No matter how awesome everyone tells you the food will be, you’ll likely be disappointed

When I moved to Atlanta, everyone would rave about the awesome restaurants out here. By and large, any restaurant I went to after hearing rave reviews from acquaintances was typically a disappointment. Lacking in flavor and spice. I soon realized that you just can’t compete with Cajun cuisine. With time, you’ll learn to lessen your expectations of “outside food” and it will be easier to adapt. It’s taken me about 8 years, but I’m finally getting there. There is NO substitute for Popeye’s fried chicken, though. Any other fried chicken is merely a disappointment.

(2) People are not nearly as friendly outside of Louisiana as they are in the rest of the country

I moved to Atlanta just after graduating from LSU, thinking the adjustment would be less because I was at least staying in the “South”. The truth is that Atlanta is more of a melting pot – most residents have relocated from a variety of areas around the country. While outlying areas may be more friendly than those closer to the city, it’s still not the same friendly openness you encounter in Cajun country.

In South Louisiana, people will offer to help you whenever they sense you may need it. People will go out of their way to help you. If they see that you’re waiting in the slow moving line at the donut place (seriously, this happened to me and my husband last time we were home), they will offer to let you go before them since it’s just the nice, fair thing to do. That same kindness, common courtesy and concern doesn’t exist anywhere else on this earth that I’ve found.

(3) The rest of the South is much more conservative than Louisiana

Another fact that I didn’t realize until moving away from Louisiana is that Cajuns are very tolerant of colorful language and the consumption of adult beverages. The rest of the South is not nearly as tolerant as I was accustomed to while growing up in South Louisiana. Upon moving to another state, I realized that colorful language was offensive to most people, there are individuals who do not drink alcohol and people in the South are generally MUCH more conservative, uptight and easily offended than than Cajuns.

(4) You’ll find yourself explaining yourself a lot….

Cajuns have our own language and many regional words that we take for granted when we move out of the “homeland”. You might say “Oh, Cher!” and people will look at you like “What’d you just say?” You might refer to something giving you the “frissons” an get a strange look. I also constantly get questions on how to pronounce my last tname

(5) Everyone will think you’re from New Orleans….and tell you about their visits there

Yes, this is exhausting to have to explain to every person you meet that everyone from Louisiana is NOT from New Orleans or the surrounding region. I’ve started to refer to my hometown in terms of the distance & direction from New Orleans. I’m from Lafayette, it’s about 2.5 hours West of New Orleans. That usually shuts them up and gives them some geography puzzle to keep their brain busy.

(6) The rest of the world/country goes to work on Mardi Gras just like it’s any other day of the year

It’s really quite sad the first time you’re not in the “homeland” for Mardi Gras. You may even forget that it’s Mardi Gras. This year, I was driving to Chicago that day. The rest of the country had no idea it was such a special, fun holiday and people were drinking and partying their asses off down in South Louisiana & beyond. Sometimes I’ll remind people that it’s Mardi Gras by bringing in a King Cake or by wearing and distributing beads. However, see they will think it’s all about boobs (see below). Oh, and give up on trying to find a decent King Cake in your new region/hometown. I’ve just given up on that and started baking my own. It’s really not that hard.

(7) People will think Mardi Gras is all about boobs

Seriously, people. It’s not all about the boobs. The whole boobage thing is pretty much only in New Orleans and Mardi Gras is celebrated not only throughout the state, but in the entire Gulf Coast region. Mobile, AL also claims to be the “Birthplace of Mardi Gras”

(8) You’ll hear tons of Justin Wilson comparisons and jokes about Adam Sandler’s “Cajun Man” and character in “WaterBoy”

People will ask you if you eat snake – for real. I’m not kidding. A friend of mine from college was asked if we had roads in Louisiana – they thought we all paddled around in canoes (little did they know they are called “pirogues”, but I digress….) Be prepared to answer silly questions like this – from pretty much everyone you meet.

(9) You’ll start spelling your name every time you call somewhere that requires you to give them your full name.

The funny part is when you’re back home, you’ll forget where you are and start spelling your name and get strange looks. Yes ma’am, I know how to spell “Prejean”…

(10) You’ll miss boiled crawfish more than you can imagine

During crawfish season (and as a true Cajun, you’ll know what I mean by “Crawfish Season”), you’ll pine for those tasty little boiled mudbugs. You’ll be frustrated by your friends still living in South Louisiana posting their Friday night outings to local crawfish joints on Facebook. You’ll mourn the loss of such a tasty delicacy, you’ll wonder how the rest of the world can go on not knowing how wonderful those tasty little mudbugs are.

(11) Not everyone drives a truck

Down South, it seems that everyone either drives a truck or has a family member with a truck. In general, this same rule applies to boats.

(12) You’ll watch “Swamp People” and Troy Landry’s accent will be like music to your ears

I love that show and it’s mostly because I love to hear Troy’s accent. It’s so comforting. I associate it with home and the Cajun people. My mom thinks the show makes Cajuns look uneducated and portrays us in a negative light. I say keep that show on TV as it’s a great connection to home for me. I don’t have that Cajun accent and I get questioned frequently as to why I don’t speak with an accent. I can’t explain it, but sometimes I wish I had that accent. I find it a bit endearing.

After seeing the puzzled look on my face, he continues his story, offering up the reason for his question “I just love coffee and you order this coffee through the mail and it smells so wonderful. I am just wondering where you buy it from.” So I tell him where we buy our coffee (from a local roaster in Americus, GA called “Cafe Campesino” – they roast to order and it’s delicious. Every time we’ve given the beans as gifts, they are well received and appreciated.

So I just ordered a pound of beans to be delivered to our house next week – just for him. I made sure to ask him if he’s working next week and he confimed that he will be on duty. He insisted that he only wanted 1 cup of coffee, but he’s going to get a pound of fresh beans. I made sure he had a bean grinder. He confirmed that he did. I am glad to spread the holiday spirit. Giving a great gift can be so much fun.

The ironic part is that I struggled with what to do for him to show my appreciation to him for doing his job so well. Our packages are never left out in the rain (if they don’t fit inside our mailbox. He walks them up to the front porch if necessary. He and our UPS man have been on my list of people I wished to show appreciation to during the holidays. Yes, they are just “doing their job” – but I can’t help but feel that they may feel as though it’s a thankless job.

What have you done to make someone’s Holiday season a bit brighter this year?

The truth is that this past year has presented some incredibly difficult struggles for me. I’ve spent plenty of time floundering around, re-learning lessons and figuring out where to go next. In this time, I’ve learned a lot about myself – how much I value myself and what I don’t want to do as a job in the future. One lesson I’ve learned is how I “speak” to myself negatively – when I make mistakes and also in my daily thoughts. It’s amazing how unkind you can be to yourself without stopping to realize what you’re doing and/or saying to yourself with your thoughts. If I had someone in my life who spoke to me as I did in my thoughts, I would most likely label them as toxic and decrease my interactions with them substantially – perhaps entirely. I realized I was toxic to myself. I realized that I was perhaps my own worst enemy.

I saw this behavior expressed not only in the gym (before/during & after my workouts), but in my personal life and my work life as well. I’ve been told that I have extremely high expectations of myself – the funny thing is that I don’t even realize that I’m doing this to myself. It honestly never occurred to me that the rest of the world doesn’t hold themselves to this high level of expectation. That being said, it’s hard to identify when I have unrealistic expectations (I truly don’t know that I’m projecting this on myself), but I’m trying to become better at accepting imperfection, realizing that it takes time to make progress and accepting where I am on my journey instead of berating myself for not arriving at the destination just after beginning my  journey.

Tonight, I stumbled upon this Ted X video of an amputee and her speech about how she views the world and how she views adversity.

The Opportunity of Adversity

I must say that I have very similar views related to adversity (as I’ve shared here before). I think it’s just part of life’s journey. What I am unable to do is to believe in myself. I expressed to a loved one months ago that what I needed in my life was someone who unconditionally believed in ME. I felt that my father was that person in my life and I miss that terribly since he is no longer here to support me in that regard. What I’m realizing now is that I need to believe in myself as well – I can surround myself with supportive people, but if I don’t believe in myself, my journey will be exponentially more difficult. Now that I know what I need to work on, I just have to figure out how to do it.

The church prior to the wedding

Since moving away from Louisiana 14 years ago and learning what life is like outside of the area where I grew up most of my life, I’ve realized that our weddings are not “typical” – we have some traditions that other cultures don’t necessarily follow. Here are some general guidelines to what I categorize as a true, Cajun wedding:

1. There is no real dress code – you can wear anything from jeans and cowboy boots to a suit if you wish. No one will look at you like you’re not dressed appropriately. No pretentious people here, that’s for sure.

2. We have buffet dinners, not sit down plated dinners. You choose what you want to eat from the buffet, when you want to eat it and go back for seconds if you’d like.

3. There’s no assigned seating at tables. You can sit where you like and even change seats during the evening. There’s no forced conversations between people you hardly know and no fussing about who will sit at which table or having to create place cards for each guest.

Table decorations are simple with no assigned seating

4. There will most likely be a Cajun band with a fiddle (not a violin) and a squeeze box (accordion).

The Cajun band at the reception

5. You’ll see grown adults dancing with children and women dancing with each other. It really has nothing more to do with just having fun – plain and simple.

My Aunt dancing with her grandson and great nephew

6. You’ll most likely have the time of your life. Cajun weddings are fun. I credit the typical “joie de vivre” spirit of the Cajun culture.

7. There will most likely be an open bar, with a self-serve keg.

Abita beer!

8. Don’t be surprised if the wedding and reception are held on the grounds of a Catholic church and there’s plenty of drinking afterward.

9. At the reception, people will pin money on the bride and groom in exchange for a dance with them.

My sister and sister-in-law dancing at the reception

I’ve been to weddings where receptions consisted of assigned seating and plated dinners and buffet dinners with no music, dancing or alcohol. I’m here to tell you that a Cajun wedding is by far – the most fun and entertaining of the bunch. If you’re ever invited to attend a wedding in Cajun country, I encourage you to go. It’s an experience that you’ll remember for a  lifetime.

A Cajun wedding reception

I’d like to wish my brother and his new wife the very best in your lives together. We love you Dex and Jen :)

My brother and his wife

]]> http://thatcrazycajun.com/2012/05/26/my-guide-to-a-cajun-wedding/feed/ 0 http://thatcrazycajun.com/2012/05/14/slingin-bling/ http://thatcrazycajun.com/2012/05/14/slingin-bling/#comments Tue, 15 May 2012 01:49:34 +0000 admin http://thatcrazycajun.com/?p=785 Continue reading →]]> I’m a serial crafter. I not only sew, but I crochet, knit and pick up other crafty skills on a regular basis. Every year, there’s a sewing expo that comes to our city early during the month of March. I actually met my best friend in Atlanta at this very event – 8 years ago. It’s a weekend on my calendar where I usually immerse myself in sewing, fabric and related crafts. I attend a number of classes throughout the weekend, spend way too much money on crap that I rarely get around to using. I’ve learned my lesson – stay busy that weekend and save money!

My blingy lanyard

Since I’m in between jobs right now, I just resigned myself to not going this year. I was going to miss seeing my sewing sisters, but I would stay busy with another hobby and just not think about it. The day before the expo is scheduled to begin, I get an email. A vendor needs help in her booth and it’s a paid position. She needs help demonstrating her products in her booth for a few hours each day. The position is only for 5 hours of each day, which means that I would have a few hours to shop in the expo hall and as a vendor, I would receive free admission to the vendor hall (usually a $10/day admission fee). I immediately called the vendor and after a short discussion, she agreed to meet me the next morning – 30 minutes before the expo hall opened – to show me how to use her products. She suggested that I bring something to decorate. I decided to bring a denim apron that I wear when I dye fabrics. It was the perfect canvas for some bling!

My plain denim apron was fancy after I decorated it with some bling!

At the end of the three days, I made a new friend, some money to spend at the sewing expo and gathered plenty of knowledge of how to dress up my silk scarves and many other crafty projects with these products. While I was initially not the type of person who would have set foot in this booth in the past, I now see how adding just a touch of sparkle can add just the right interest to a finished piece to make it that much more special. I brought my camera and lens cases to embellish as well as a few silk scarves. I was able to do a bit of shopping (not too much, I stayed within my budget of what I earned working at the expo), and visit with my sewing sisters (our ASG booth was directly across from the booth where I worked). In summary, it was a very successful weekend!

In the past year, I’ve been informed that my job was eliminated, I took 3 months off of work, including suspending my job search – so I could re-group and feel like myself again. It was the best thing I ever did for myself and since then, I feel like I’ve become more introspective. Last fall, I picked up a temporary contract for some part time with my old company and worked on a new venture – doing event management for a company that my gym started.  After three months of a solid break from work, I threw myself back into two ventures and within three months, I was back where I started. Completely burned out, stressed and utterly exhausted.

In summary, I chose to begin looking for another job in the IT field – which is where my experience and education are focused. I am now looking for a job (or a contract) and really asking myself the question of what will make me happy in this life. It’s a question that is tougher to answer than I ever imagined it would be. While slowing down for a while is allowing me to explore and live my life, I feel a bit lost in a sea of misdirection.

However, all of this time off from work hasn’t been useless. In the course of these drastic changes in my life in the past year, I’ve done some soul searching. Here’s what I’ve realized:

I am afraid of failure.

I realized this when watching an athlete in a competition attempt a lift and fail by falling on his rear end. I thought to myself “Oh, I’d DIE if that happened to me.” At that moment, I realized that what I fear most – and perhaps what keeps me from competiting is the fear of failure: that I will come in last or that I will fail at something I attempt and look like an idiot. It’s easier to not even try than to try and fail at something. It was difficult for me to admit to myself that the event management gig was not making me happy and it was ultimately not the direction that I wanted to move into. It took a lot of nerve to move on and I didn’t want to be seen as a quitter in that situation. In the end, I know it was the best decision for ME and that’s what mattered the most. So, I failed – and you know what? The word hasn’t come to an end.

Perhaps that’s what the book “The Courage to Start” is all about – getting over your fear of failure so that you don’t talk yourself out of just getting started. I remember reading that book years ago after seeing a quote from the author on a sign along the 60 mile route for the Atlanta 3-day Breast Cancer walk. I was incredibly worried that I would fail at planning an event last December. While our registration numbers were much lower than our goal, the event still was executed in an organized fashion and plenty of athletes enjoyed themselves while running through this crazy obstacle course we designed and built. Yes, I didn’t meet my goal, but was it a failure? I learned from the experience – and I realize now that had we met our registration goals, I would have definitely  become overwhelmed. In the end, I think it was divine intervention that our numbers were lower than expected. It helped me to maintain my sanity. Yes, it was tough to move on from that job as well – and admit that it wasn’t the thing for me, but it wasn’t a waste. I did learn a great deal from the experience and I should be thankful for that.

I am stronger than I thought I was

For three months of last year, I was engrossed in planning an obstacle course event scheduled for December 2011 – The Firebreather Challenge. The final obstacle was a 12 foot wall climb with a rope descent on the opposite side. I didn’t run through the entire course when we had it set up. Perhaps one day I will regret that decision. I did know that I would regret not attempting the wall climb if I chickened out, so I decided to climb the wall before we took it down. My attempt was late on Sunday and it honestly was the scariest thing I’d done in years. I got to the top and I was convinced that I wouldn’t be able to hold myself up on the rope on the opposite side and I was going to come crashing down to the floor, uncontrollably. I was wrong. I am stronger than I thought I was.

I also thought that planning this event would drive me insane and I would fail miserably. I reached what one of my bosses referred to as “Level 2″ where instead of increasing my stress when things start to go wrong, I just stayed calm and continue to move forward. I became very familiar with my level 2 response in the last week before that event. There were so many unexpected issues that I couldn’t afford to waste my energy on, so I delegated tasks to those who could help and continued to move forward as best as I could. You know what? It worked out in the end. Thank goodness!

I run, I don’t walk.

I learned this lesson when I hired a woman in my neighborhood to help me with my swimming this past summer. It was something that was on my to-do list for over a year and I finally had the time to dedicate to it this summer. The first thing she told me was to slow down. I looked at her sideways and thought “I’m not swimming FAST enough – that’s my problem, silly!” Then one day the lifeguard commented to her that he’d never seen anyone do the breaststroke that fast before, not even a kid. That’s when I thought she might be on to something. I will frequently break out into a run if I feel that walking just isn’t going to get me there in time. I recently did this at a rest area when I was heading back to our truck. A trucker commented to me “You’re afraid that they’re gonna leave you, huh?” and I just thought “No, I felt like running, silly.” People look at you like you’re nuts when you do that. I don’t understand why more people don’t run instead of walk. Perhaps they’re just lazy. Sometimes it just feels good to run.

I also do this in workouts, I’ll start off running quickly and I get frustrated when I can’t keep up the pace. I don’t know how to pace myself. I also take on too many tasks than I could ever accomplish and get frustrated when I’m not as efficient as I think I should be. I must learn to pace myself – in my workouts and in my workload.

I am too hard on myself.

I’ve heard this for many years, but I mainly dismissed it as people just trying to give me an excuse. I suppose that’s typical for people who are really hard on themselves? Ha! I did receive a compliment on this though – someone recently told me that for someone who is so hard on herself, I do a good job of moving forward even when I don’t feel like I’m doing a good enough job. I must remember this for the future. The main issue with this is how frustrating it can be when you constanly hear that negative message come through in your head “You should have done that better.” or “Why didn’t you think of that?” Combating those negative thoughts  is something that I have yet to master.

That’s enough for now. Since I originally wrote this post (it’s been sitting as a “draft” for MONTHS), I have learned more stuff about myself. I will post those lessons as well – in due time…

I especially loved watching the gorillas in their habitat and seeing the ever-popular panda bears.

The petting zoo featured some kangaroos that were interesting to watch. Our little photography subject was very well behaved and I was able to snag some great shots of him throughout the day. We finally arrived back home three hours late for the little one’s nap time, but he was so well behaved, you’d never know he was so late going down for his nap. What a great kid!

I hope to make it down to the zoo again in the not too distant future. As a hobby photographer, it was great fun walking through the zoo, observing the animals and photographing them, even the ones of the tiny human variety.

I’m driving to an appointment. The windows are down in my car because the air conditioning in my car wasn’t working. I run over something, but it’s not visible from the road and doesn’t seem like a huge deal. Then I hear the “hiss” sound begin…and I start to get worried. I’m right near our gym, so I pull over into the parking lot. I get out of my car and sure enough, my passenger rear tire is flat. Like a pancake flat.

Pancake flat - what my tire looked like

I immediately call my husband and tell him of my misfortune. While we have roadside assistance, it will take him about the same amount of time to get to me as a roadside assistance truck, so he packs up from work and heads out to meet me. We estimate it will take him over an hour to get there. I sit in my car and curse that I left my kindle at home and my cell phone battery is starting to die. Just then, a car pulls up – one of the owners of the gym is coming by to do some work. He doesn’t see me, though and goes inside. I open my trunk and start to get the spare tire out and the tools (the jack, etc) – just to make sure my husband didn’t need to run home to pick up anything on his way to come and rescue me. You know, standard supplies like his superhero cape, a spare jack, lug wrench, etc.

After I get the tools out, I figure I should at least loosen the lug nuts for my husband…you know, as a courtesy. That goes well and I surmise that perhaps I can just jack up the car – you know, help him out a little more. Funny thing is that I don’t know which end of the jack is the top or the bottom. So, I do what any smart woman would do – I get out the manual for my car and read the directions. I am well on my way when the owner of the gym comes out and asks me if I need any help. Me being the independent Crossfit girl, I say “Nah, I think I’ve got it”. He respects my distance, but hangs out to entertain me and give me tips here and there. I get the car jacked up, the tire off and the spare on and start cleaning up. It was surprisingly easy. I was shocked. I called my husband and said “Okay, I’m done! I did it myself.” I think he was proud of me. Little did he know, I still had a trick up my sleeve. Thinking that my spare was low on air, I whipped out my trusty air pressure gauge and checked it (all by myself!). I needed to air up the tire a bit, so I headed to the nearest gas station to top off the air in my spare tire and then continued on to my appointment.

My car with the donut installed

I stopped at the tire store on my way home and they checked out the tire and informed me that it could not be repaired. The piece of metal that I ran over made a hole too large to patch. All that being said, my rear tires were getting bare and needed to be replaced anyway. I was not surprised as I came to the same conclusion as I was changing it. The piece of metal was large and the tires were in shoddy condition.

I surmise that this all happened for specific reasons. If my a/c wasn’t out, I wouldn’t have had the windows down and would not have heard the hissing of the air from my tire. If I wouldn’t have had to change my tire, I wouldn’t have noticed I needed new rear tires. Yeah, it sucks to be buying two new tires when I wasn’t planning on it, but I really do believe stuff like this happens this way for a reason. Call me a  hippie, tree hugging silly person, I don’t care. I’ve seen it happen too much in my life to discount it – maybe, just maybe, I’m an optimist.

At the end of the day, I’m incredibly proud of myself for changing that tire on my own. While it may be easier to sit and wait for a guy to come along and do the task for me, it’s so much more empowering to know that I can be self sufficient. I’ve been married almost 10 years now – I’ve been with my husband for 12 years. He is a wonderful husband, he wants to do things for me – he doesn’t want to see me struggle. I get spoiled and let him do more than I typically would. That’s a good problem to have, but I also realize that I feel as though I’ve slowly lost my independence in the process. I need to feel self-sufficient. I need to know that I can and will do things (like change a flat tire) for myself.

Every once in a while, it’s good to flex my “independence” muscle and know that when push comes to shove, this crazy Cajun can take care of herself!

So, today as I was working around the house, catching up on chores that were neglected as we’ve been very busy these past few weeks. During my chores, I had some time to ponder about what I might be thankful for. Yes, I love my husband, I’m thankful to have him my life. I’m thankful for my house, food and all that jazz. Then, I found myself out in the yard, helping him rake the 4 weeks of leaves that had built up in our yard. No, I’m not kidding – I told you we were behind on chores! The pile of leaves was about 4 inches thick – without even raking. It had rained multiple times, so most of them were still wet. Wet leaves don’t respond well to leaf blowers. You have to rake them – compound that with the volume and you have what seems at times like an insurmountable task.

I was out in the yard, helping my husband with the leaves, expecting for this to feel like a workout. Expecting to be tired, winded and just exhausted when we were done. I found that I had much more stamina than last time I’d tried to rake leaves. I was stronger, faster and overall much better at the task than I’d recalled. I didn’t get winded or tired. Last time I helped him with yardwork, I felt exhausted and like I’d just endured a workout.

It was only after realizing how I wasn’t tired that I thought “I’m thankful that I’m in decent enough shape to rake leaves – to do the chores around the house that I need to do. To be capable in my life.” After all, that’s what General Physical Preparedness (GPP) is – being able to do things when you need to do them. The gym I go to strives to increase the GPP of its members. That’s why I see value in going to the gym. It helps me in other areas of my life – not to mention, it’s stress relief for me.

The pile of leaves that we raked from the front yard into the forest behind our house

A few minutes later, as I was continuing to rake the never ending pile of leaves, I realized that what I am most thankful for is my health. My father once told me years ago “If you have your health, you have everything.” I was in my 20′s. I was in college and I didn’t think much about that statement. Through the years, I’ve seen many people in my life suffer from the deterioration of their health. Our neighbor can’t get her trash can down her sloped driveway because of her ill health. My husband brings it down to the street for her every week and then back up to her house after it’s been picked up by the trash company.

I’ve seen people lose their health suddenly as a result of accidents or illnesses, others just watch their healthy slowly deteriorate from lifestyle choices. Many blame genetics and don’t see that they do have control over many of the choices that determine their health. I believed the same thing until I changed the way that I eat and now realize the connection between what I eat and my health. What you eat every day makes a difference in your health and in your mood. It seems like such a simple concept, it’s amazing that more people don’t make the connection. I’m stunned that it took me years to come to that realization – what you eat is directly correlated to your health.

I’ve made a decision to value my health over the long term. I’ve made lifestyle changes that have dramatically improved my health. I hope to never return to the slow deterioration of my health via eating crappy foods, leading a never-ending stress-filled life and not exercising.  That’s the road I was headed toward a few years ago before I found my gym and before I discovered eating well.

It feels good to be strong, capable and independent. I don’t want to lose that. So, today – I am thankful most for my health. It enables me to live my life. I hope that I have many more years of healthy living in my future. I urge you to value your health more than anything – take the time to eat well and take care of yourself. It’s so easy to get so busy in your daily life that you neglect cooking for yourself or finding healthy food to eat. You can fill your day with so many activities that you don’t have time to relax, do the activities you most enjoy or go to the gym to relieve your stress.

In the end, your loved ones will thank you – they’re probably thankful for you in their lives. I believe that there’s no better way to honor them and yourself than by taking the best care of yourself possible.  Just something to think about today on Thanksgiving.

Happy Turkey day!

Me and my husband heading out for our second day on the trail

On the last day of our trip, I found myself feeling ill for one reason or another – I’m still not exactly sure why. The group was scheduled for a 4 mile round trip hike to the summit of Half Dome from our campsite – then we were to return to camp, have a late breakfast, pack up and hike the 7 miles back down to the valley. The hike to Half Dome was a strenuous one, even with lighter day packs vs. our heavier backpacks. At the end of that 4 mile hike, I would still need to feel well enough to carry my big backpack 7 miles down the trail to the valley floor. There was also considerable elevation gain/loss over the 2 miles up to the summit of Half Dome and back down again. One of the potential reasons for my ill feeling was altitude sickness. Strenuous activity and altitude gains are not recommended if you are sick because of altitude issues. I suppose it was a wise idea for me to opt to stay in camp vs. attempt the hike.

I spoke with our guides that morning before leaving and my options were:

(1) attempt the hike and if I couldn’t make it, they’d leave me at some location on the trail and continue on, I’d rejoin them on their way back to camp

or

(2) stay in camp and try to rest in the tent

I chose option 2 – there was a chance of rain and we knew there was a bear in the area – she visited us twice in our camp the night before with her cub in tow.  If I had to deal with either rain or bears, I’d preferred to be in camp – in my tent. Perhaps the tent gave me a false sense of security with the threat of a bear visiting camp. If I had it to do over again, I think I’d still make the same choice, though it was not an easy choice to make.

My husband at the base of the Half Dome cables

Watching my husband hike off with the rest of the group was very hard for me to do. I wanted to share the experience of summitting Half Dome with him and I feel like in many ways, I let both him and myself down by staying behind. In the end, he reported that he knows I could have done that hike feeling well, but he’s not sure if I could’ve completed it while feeling ill. It was probably best that I stayed behind.

Before he left, he said “Are you sure you’ll be okay staying in camp? There’s a bear in the area and you’re very afraid of bears.” To be honest, the last thing on my mind was the silly bear. I was feeling awful – both physically from whatever was wrong with me – and emotionally/mentally – from missing out on the highlight of this trip. I could care less about the bear. I also reasoned that it was daylight – in my silly little mind, bears are nocturnal animals, they don’t come out during the day. Um yeah, I’ve been told it’s the opposite.

Let me preface the rest of the story by explaining the “bear” protocol we followed on this trip. The first rule was that anything that had come into contact with food or smelled like food would be left in the kitchen area of camp – on a tablecloth we spread on the ground. This included our dishes, eating utensils, pots, pans and any water bottle we’d mixed with a drink mix at any time during the trip. All food and “smellable” items (toothpaste, toothbrushes, lip balm, etc) went into the bear canisters. If we were not in camp or we were sleeping, the bear canisters were closed and secured.  Our backpacks were left unzipped and open near our tents. They were to be cleared of any “smellable” items, including food. The reason why the packs were left open was to deter the bear from tearing the pack open with their paw to be able to sniff inside. There was no food allowed in the tents. That’s a no-brainer, if you ask me.

If we were to encounter a bear, our guides advised us to yell at the bear and make ourselves appear larger by waving our hands in the air to scare the bear away. The bears in the park were described as large, timid dogs and scared easily. The only time that a bear would typically get aggressive is if it was a momma bear and she was with her cub and she felt that her cub was threatened. I should point out that the bear that visited our campsite the previous night was a female with her cub.

I should also add that I was in my tent with the rain fly on (it was drizzling the previous night when we went to bed), so I could not see out of the tent. The tent we were in had no windows and large vestibules on either side and there was no way for me to see outside without physically coming out of the tent.

A shot of our campsite where our new friend (the bear) liked to visit us

The group left for Half Dome around 5AM and I was able to fall back asleep shortly after that. I didn’t expect them to be out for too long, maybe returning around 8AM? That’s why when I awoke to the sounds of dishes clanging around near the kitchen area of camp and checked my watch to find it was 8AM, my thought was “Oh great! They’re back!” and then I listened for sounds of voices talking. There were none. What I did hear, though – was the sound of a bear stomping around, nosing our bear canisters, dishes and whatever else she could find that might contain food. (I’m assuming the bear in camp was the same female that visited the night before, therefore I am using “she” when referring to my new furry friend).

While I was scared out of my mind to be in such close proximity to this enormous and potentially dangerous wild animal, I was amazed at the strange noises she made. She kept making this strange sound that I’d never envision a bear would make. It’s hard to explain, but the the first audio clip on this page imitates the sound I heard the female making – after some research and reading up on this detail, her cub must have been nearby.

She also sniffed our packs, which I could hear quite well as she went through everyone’s packs, looking for food. The sniffing sounds were similar to the sounds the bear makes in this video during the first minute of the clip. The scraping of the paw and the sniffing were very similar to what I heard outside my tent that morning as she foraged for food in our camp.

Thank goodness that all participants in our group followed the bear protocol outlined by our guides from the start of the trip. If not, we would have had some damaged gear, that’s for sure. When the bear was done sniffing around the kitchen, she started to look through everyone’s packs and tents. Methodically going from one area to the next, she sniffed all around our camp, returned to the kitchen area – kicked around our bowls, cups, bear canisters and kitchen gear a bit more before making another round to the tents and packs. I should add that when the bear sniffed mine and my husband’s packs, she was about 1-2 feet away from me. I just laid there in the tent, in silence – praying for the group to return and for the bear to move on, away from our camp. I reasoned that it was only a matter of time before she figured there was no food to be had and made her way to another spot in search of food.

As I sat there listening to her rustle through everyone’s packs, I thought to myself  ”Oh dear, what if she’s damaging our stuff and I’m just sitting here, listening to it happen!?!? The group is going to be so mad if I sat here and let this happen, knowing it was going on and I didn’t do anything to stop the bear.” That was quickly followed by “Hmmm, I’m here all by myself in camp, with no communication device nor a personal first aid kit (we were instructed to leave ours behind because the guides had a group first aid kit that contained everything we needed, so ours sat in the car in the parking lot in Curry Village).  If I were to be mauled by this bear, there would be no way for me to help myself. The last thing I want to do is become a guest on that show ‘I shouldn’t be alive‘ because I was mauled by a bear.” Then my thoughts quickly turned to “HA! I was afraid of the Half Dome cables. I was afraid I’d fall from them and die. Now it looks like I’m going to die because I was mauled by a bear. Great! I guess you can’t escape the grim reaper when it’s your time to go.” Yes, I know it’s crazy to admit, but I had a good 30 minutes of freaking out to do while the bear perused our camp. 30 minutes is a long time to lie quietly in fear in your tent, wishing for your husband to come back and wishing for that silly furry thing outside your tent to go away.

After the bear sniffed our packs for the second time, I thought she was moving on. But she had other plans. I began to see the imprint of her snout on the rain fly and it moved in toward me in the tent. Then the tent pole moved and the tent began to collapse in on me. I moved back slowly and turned my head from looking directly at the snout coming from the side of the tent and looked downward, down toward my sleeping bag. I suppose I reasoned that if the bear was to bite me, I didn’t want to see what was going to happen next. Perhaps I was trying to appear less threatening to the bear, but then the bear probably couldn’t see me through the tent and the rain fly. Who the hell knows. I have no idea why I turned my head. I just stared at my sleeping bag and prayed for this big old furry thing to move on. My prayers were answered as the bear took a few sniffs of me – I’d venture to guess she came within 6 inches of my head – and slowly ambled away. I never heard her again in camp. I waited about 20 minutes, then came out of the tent with my two hiking poles. I sat by the campfire ring and awaited the rest of the group to return to camp. In that time, I watched a doe walk through camp, our eyes met and it was almost like we had an agreement that it was okay for her to wander and I wouldn’t bother her. It was kind of neat watching her sniff around camp and eat some foliage. I was happy the bear didn’t return, though – very happy. It was upsetting that I didn’t have a camera handy during any of these bear encounters. I’d sent the camera with my husband as capturing Half Dome pictures was more important than having the camera with me as I slept off whatever funky feelings I was having.

My husband at the summit of Half Dome

Around 9:30, I heard our group returning and spotted one of the guides, then saw my husband’s hat and was very thankful everyone returned from their trip to the summit of Half Dome. I’d been running on adrenaline all morning and I immeidately burst into the story of the bear and her stay in our camp. They were eager to hear my story and then I felt badly for overshadowing their summit of Half Dome – they had their own adventure story to share with me and here I was babbling on and on about my encounter with the bear. I quickly asked how their trip was and we shared stories. In the end, all of the women in the group said that would have stayed in their tent if they found themselves in the same situation as I was – alone in camp with a bear sniffing through our stuff. For a number of days after my encounter with the bear, I second guessed how I handled the situation. One thing that the rangers try to do is to keep the bears fearful of humans. Once a bear stops fearing humans, they often must be destroyed.

Perhaps by staying in the tent, I contributed to the bear no longer fearing humans. Honestly, I don’t know what I should have done. Perhaps I should have come out of my tent, but I only knew where one bear was – what was I getting myself into? Was it the same momma bear and her cub that visited our camp twice the night before? What if I was in a position where she felt like I was threatening her cub? A family member reasoned that I followed my instincts in the situation and that’s usually the right thing to do.

I’ve had varied reactions to my encounter. One friend of mine asked me to tell his young daughter the story of my bear encounter. When I advised him that it may make her fearful of bears and tent camping, he said he wanted her to understand that people have these experiences and live to tell the story. Others (who are not avid outdoor adventurers) just exclaim “You’re lucky to be alive!” Perhaps I was in more danger than I initially thought. Yes, being that close to an animal that large is not something that has ever happened to me in my lifetime, but I surmise that it happens more often than not, just the stories where people live to tell about it aren’t as dramatic and tragic as the ones that don’t end so well – and those tend to make the news.

Looking back on the situation, I reason that this situation may just be a result of serendipity. Ever since seeing a bear while camping near the Great Smoky Mountain National Park in 1999 (I blogged about that experience here), I have been very fearful of bears while tent camping. So fearful that I will wake up my husband in the middle of the night if I think I hear something outside the tent. Perhaps this was the adventure I was meant to have on this trip, not summiting Half Dome. Maybe God knew that I needed to face this fear – literally – and live to tell about it? All in all – everyone in our group had their own adventure that day – mine just came in a different package.

Me and my husband on Clouds Rest the day before - with Half Dome in the background