By Ranger Eric Whiteside 

 

Every summer for the past six years I have made the pilgrimage to work at Camp Shelly in South Lake Tahoe, LARPD’s very own slice of paradise up in the Sierra Nevada. Just a mile from the lovely shores of Baldwin Beach on the south side of the sprawling Lake Tahoe, the campground is tucked away in a forest of Jeffrey pines and white firs at the base of the jagged granite peaks of Mount Tallac.  Stunning views, access to nearly every variety of outdoor recreation, and the crystal-clear mountain air make the entire region a vacation destination for nature lovers from all over the world. But all this beauty comes at a cost. There are dark things lurking in the shadows at night. The carefree excitement, the relaxation of a camping trip wanes as the sun begins to set because with the nightfall comes the illusive black bear. 

 

True Bear Tale

Now, I’m sure that many of you have bear stories of your own: a missing ice chest in the morning; heavy foot falls outside the tent; maybe something more dramatic and up close and personal. I have always said that bear stories in particular are some of the most embellished stories that folk can tell, especially when gathered around a campfire. As if the idea of a massive mammal with paws the size of baseball gloves wasn’t intimidating enough, details are often added, height and weight are generously estimated, and the hero never seems to get scared. But I assure you, this bear story is true! 

It was a quite night in the campground. We had emptied all the trash cans, loaded them into the bed of the truck, and hauled them up to the dumpster on the top of the hill. We ensured that there was no unattended food, no pungent smells from leftover dinner to lure in the hungry bears. Once everything was tucked away for the night, I retreated to the tiny ranger cabin to turn in but couldn’t help but notice that the campground was eerily still… as if it was the calm before the storm. Sleep came quickly and soon I was whisked away into the dreamscape… but my rest was short lived. My regular dream of pancakes and rainbows was violently interrupted by a loud commotion. Instinctively I sprang into action, ready to save the campground once again from one of our unwanted visitors, but it wasn’t until I had reached for my jeans that I discerned that the commotion was much closer than I thought. In fact, it seemed that there was a steady stream of grunts, scratches, huffs and puffs right outside the cabin door. With a loud bang, I spun to watch the door to the cabin bulge inward with a ferocity that told me one thing: fight or flight.  

Someone's at the Door

Being the proud young park ranger that I was, I knew that flight was simply not an option, especially because my only exit would lead me straight into the belly of the beast. I leapt from my bed and wedged myself between the door and refrigerator, pressing with all my weight to keep the monster from busting through the door and cornering me in my own home. I began yelling, banging on the door with clenched fists, “Get out of here!” but the creature was relentless.  I could feel its weight as it pressed harder and harder on the door; I could practically feel its breath on the back of my neck. I knew I had to make my move. Simply banging on the door would not suffice to deter this monster. I would have to meet the beast face to face and overcome it with courage to win.  

So, I began to collect myself, mentally preparing to open the door and accept the challenge when the absolute unthinkable happened. The doorknob… began to turn. I stared at it, frozen with fear. It gently wiggled back and forth. I grasped at the knob immediately and double checked—yes, it was locked! Suddenly my mortal enemy became something else entirely. This was no mere ‘black bear’. This was a beast that had learned to open locked doors. Was this the same cute but mischievous bear I had been chasing away all summer long? Was he finally fed up with that dang ranger always scuttling him away from irresponsible campsites who left out a smorgasbord of free food? My newfound courage had begun to melt away, when out of the corner of my eye I saw an old friend. The long red plastic Camp Shelly Bear Horn, the trusted tool of many bear-wrangling rangers who came before me. I knew what had to be done. Horn clutched in my right hand, door handle in my left, pants still at my ankles. I firmly turned the knob, yanked open the door and took my final breath as I brought the horn to my lips and blew with desperation that I had never felt before. It was glorious! 

Basking in Victory

Well, the bear turned and bolted up the hill, seemingly vanishing into the night like a total wimp before I even let out my solid unwavering note through the horn. It felt a bit anti-climactic, but hey, I did it! I had won! I strutted off my porch and plopped down into a camp chair high on life, grinning ear to ear. I truly was the ultimate bear chaser! As the adrenaline slowly drifted away, I felt the chill of the night and realized I was sitting in the dark in my underwear at about 3 in the morning. With the great satisfaction of defeating the world’s biggest, smartest, most daring and agile bear, I got up and once again retreated to my cabin—when I saw it. My key ring was hanging out of the doorknob, dripping with bear saliva. Suddenly my unrelenting brute of the night was once again reduced to a simple, curious and playful black bear. I mean honestly, what four-legged animal can escape the charm and jingle of a ring of keys? I threw them onto the table, climbed into bed and laughed myself into a well-deserved, sound sleep.   

Please don’t let my epic tale of lock-picking bears in the night scare you away from visiting Camp Shelly this summer! Human beings are rarely approached by black bears. Simply keeping a clean campsite and using the bear-proof food locker will eliminate most encounters.  

 

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This article was originally published in the May 2014 edition of Valley Wilds. I have probably told this story 100 times since I wrote this, and it's so fun to look back and see how my retelling of that fateful night's event has changed over the years. Something along these lines truly did happen one night during a summer spent working and living in the little cabin in the middle of Camp Shelly. But that’s the strange and funny thing about memories: they seem to morph over time, especially if those memories are tied to dramatic stories that we tell. At this point the truthiness of this story is no longer important; it has taken on a life of its own. The plot generally stays the same, but the way that I spin the tale changes with every retelling. Sometimes it's full of dramatic pauses, sometimes it features a flashback to wise words once told by my then mentor Ranger Pat. Sometimes it carries a more lighthearted tone or is full of self-deprecating humor. Lately, it always ends with me discovering a big pile of steaming bear scat on the porch of my cabin which segways perfectly into a show-and-tell discussion about bear scat.  

The Art of Telling the Tale

This is one of the first stories I have ever told to a group of people as a park ranger, probably sometime around 2008. Of course, I had told countless stories to friends and family before then, but there is something completely different about telling stories as a professional. I dreaded public speaking. I can still recall the anxiety of a Saturday afternoon, knowing that in a few hours I would be taking center stage at the group campfire ring. I have come a long way since those early days telling stories at Camp Shelly, and I have this story, in part, to thank for my growth! Never underestimate the power of a good story. 

I find that in our busy lives we don’t always have the time, space, or company to really engage in quality storytelling with each other. There are many venues that enable storytelling, but for me, you just simply can't beat a campfire in the woods.  

 

Book a couple nights at Camp Shelly this summer and tell some tall tales around the campfire! It doesn’t matter if they are your own stories or borrowed from someone else, just stoke the fire and start spinning the yarn!  

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Check out some of the overnight programs for all ages that we’re offering at Camp Shelly this summer! 

Destination Shelly: Community Camp - Livermore Area Recreation and Park District 

Overnight Camps for Tweens & Teens - Livermore Area Recreation and Park District 

If you enjoyed Ranger Eric’s funny and nostalgic article about bear stories, click the link to the Valley Wilds Newsletter & Archives webpage for more previously published ranger articles: 

Valley Wilds Newsletter & Article Archive - Livermore Area Recreation and Park District