biked through Canada and woke up one night to growling a few feet away.

I rarely slept at regular campsites. I'd usually find some trees without to much underbrush, unroll the bedroll and maybe string up a tarp. This time, I'd found a great spot under some pines. No undergrowth, lotsa soft pine needles, no roots sticking out (!!!!!), not easily seen from the road...

Because carnivores, I set my backpack and "defensive gear" next to my bedroll the same way Every. Single. Time. Bear spray, hatchet, hunting knife, and a couple pocket knives (don't laugh; they're sharper than fingernails). All had particular spots near the bedroll, the proximity indicated by a duct tape swatch on the mat, or were in particular pockets on my backpack. I was also very fastidious OCD about putting stuff like flashlights, TP, band-aids, matches, can opener, etc. back in the same pocket/pouch/flap specifically so i could find something in the dark and/or rain. Before the trip, i spent 2 weeks totally packing and unpacking every item twice a day. By this particular night, it was week 7 of the trip.

So I wake to growling a few feet away. There's no light at all. Slowly and very, very quietly I move a hand towards where i placed the bear spray. I move my hand along the edge of the sleeping mat to the piece of tape I always put the bear spray next to. Can't find the bear spray.

Not unsurprising. Early in the trip, if i woke to pee I'd practice finding my stuff in the dark. Something got knocked away from its place maybe a quarter of the time. So this night, I just calmly and very quietly started looking for the next thing: the hunting knife on the other side of the bedroll.

Can't find it. One night, the mat slipped to cover the knife, so I quietly shift body parts to feel if something like a big hunting knife is underneath one. Nada. Start quietly pushing my hand into pine needles under the mat to see if I can find the knife. Nope.

Decide to go for the hatchet that, theoretically, should be leaning against my back pack. Found the backpack but not the hatchet.

By now, 10 or 15 minutes have passed. Haven't heard the bear though, believe me, I've been listening. Its been totally quiet. I'm not hearing a thing from the bear and its beginning to freak me out. I absolutely fucking know its getting ready to assert its place on the food chain.

But I'm also getting mad as hell at myself. Hours of angst & effort preparing for just this situation and nothing is where its supposed to be. It took another couple minutes to sloooowwwwly find a pouch with a flashlight. I'm scared but PO'd. Aggressive surprise seemed as good a way as any to die so, with an inarticulate yell (this was pre-Leroy Jenkins), I click the flashlight on and jam it in the direction of the growl.

Nothing. Instantaneously, I try to sit up, throw off the sleeping bag and swing the flashlight around the other way all at the same time. Nothing there but beau-coup entertainment for viewers at home.

I'm frantically swinging the flashlight around when my stomach growls. Again. The imminent bear attack was really just Ursa Borborygmus coming out of hibernation.