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when my brothers and I were kids, my dad would take us camping a lot. one year (in the Sequoias no less. I do believe it was even in the Dorst campground) our camp was raided by bears. they very expertly opened each and every cooler, ate near the entire contents (leaving us with nothing more than pancake mix and a few mint candies)
my dad aparrently discovered them during the raid and shined a flashlight on them. this alone made the pair run off.
the bears are undoubtedly smart enough to know when the jig is up, but I for one will not be sleeping outdoors. the image of being sniffed/sampled in my sleep is enough to make me want that scant few mm of protection the tent will afford.
trust me, the mole we discovered under the tent and the deer that chased my brother and I were by far more frightening.
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a clear conscience is a sure sign of a fuzzy memory
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