This encounter took place in a small town on the coast of Northern California.

A friend and I decided that we wanted to grow a garden on his property.

The trail to get there was a half a mile through some thick pine forest and huckleberry bushes.

The garden itself was trellised on the hillside with a small man-made pine that we used to water

the plants.

My friend and I would ride our dirt bikes to check on it daily.

One day in midsummer, we decided to camp there with another friend. My two friends pitched a tent,

but being outdoorsy, I made a shelter underneath a fallen tree. I used the branches to close off

the back and the sides, and I had a large branch for a door.

I also had a blanket, knowing it would get chilly that night.

Before going to bed, I had the thought to leave my riding boots on to protect against any

would-be critters trying to get frisky.

Mountain lines and the occasional bear are a thing, although they are rare.

Better safe than sorry, I thought, keeping my feet toward the opening of the shelter.

We talked about our day and what we had planned for the garden.

The three of us fell asleep.

I woke up sometime later to something heavy walking right next to my shelter. It shook the ground when it walked, as if it wanted to

make a point and say that it was the biggest thing around. My immediate thought was that a big bear

was rooting around the camp, that is, until I noticed

it was walking on two legs.

As if that wasn't alarming enough, it started looking into my shelter.

I froze stiff and I could hear it breathing and sniffing as it made its way inside through

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