Skampcity goes scamperin' in the woods..

..kid you not.  And it was AWESOME.  Yesterday, we decided to pack up the dogs, some eats, sleeping bags, and of course- a pile of beer.  We tossed it all in an old Ford pickup and hit the back country of Wyoming-- a place called Bear Basin.  If you haven't been, I suggest you go, like, now.  Or yesterday.  Seriously.

Bear Basin doesn't get its name from wee little koalas lounging about in trees, sippin' on eucalyptus leaves; it gets it from grizzly bears.  Yeah, that's right.  And speaking of grizzlies, they've kept this pansy ass (meaning me) from camping for the first three years I've lived in Wyoming.  Full of all kinds of bear mauling stories, this chick has stayed as far a way as possible.  But not this year.  THIS YEAR, I've been a few times now, twice in a tent, and twice in a place known for its bear population.  And guess what?  All the times I've gone, and all the times I've begged to see even one, I have not once even had a GLIMPSE, much less been close enough to give it kisses and ask if it likes strawberry or grape jelly best.  (I hear, though, that if you speak to 'em real nice n' slow, they won't attack.  Can't say I know for sure-- I'd be shitting my britches faster than you can say supercalafrajalisticexpealidocious.. or, whatever.)

At any rate, I got to poop outside in the woods (no, I didn't take any photos to show people, sorry), I got to drink bona fide spring water  (best tasting water on earth, I fucking swear), and I happened to have slept like a cheetah after taking down some huge wildebeest.  Meaning, IT WAS FANTASTIC.

But, the best part came shortly before we were leaving.

My companion was tossing a line in the river and suddenly my dog started barking.  I looked up, and there they were: a mama moose and her baby, sashaying by us, about 50 yards away.  I think my hemorrhoid exploded all over my britches because as most people know, a mama moose is not, in any way, to be fucked with- they can be meaner than any grizzly bear.  So we're standing by the river, frozen with paralyzing fear, holding our collective breath, and that mama moose just winked at us and kept slinkin' right on by.  Apparently, they decided that our water sandals and khaki apparel weren't threatening enough for her.  Thank fucking Jesus Christ on a balloon stick.   It took me roughly 78 minutes for my heartbeat to return to normal.  In retrospect, being that close to a moose n' her baby was pretty fucking cool.  Actually, it was some awesome sauce, fo' riggities.

And the worst part of the trip?  As we were hoppin' in the Ford to split, we happened to notice a giant pile of bear shit right next to the tent.  Super.  Super fuckin' duper.  I think I saw a human toe in there, maybe a nose too, though I can't be for certain.  But despite that, I'll go camping again, I promise.  Because a pussy, I am not.

Usually.