Bearly Camping

by Lynn Katzenmeyer

  “You’re going to love it,” Linde assured, “We’ll show you around until it gets dark and you can join the skeleton crew for a camp dinner.”

  “How much longer until we get there?” I asked. I felt like a child again, struggling to contain my excitement. I was struggling to not bounce in my seat and ask are we there yet every five seconds, professionalism be damned. I was so close to adventure I could taste it.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Art said, “Unless we get stopped by a moose or bear.”

  Linde smacked her husband’s arm again, “Don’t worry about the bears, Souli, and they’re harmless.”

  ​“Or wolf,” Art added with another grumble. I was beginning to suspect Art was the type that never smiled, which was odd, considering Linde was always smiling. Maybe she smiled enough for the two of them.

  ​“Can you hear the wolves from the camp?” I asked. It was a dumb question, considering how far north we were, there was bound to be at least one pack nearby.

  ​“You have no idea,” Linde said with an eager smile, “You’ll be sick of their constant whining by week’s end, I promise.”

  ​I saw a sign for WAZ: Wilderness Adventure Zone with an arrow pointing to the right. We were getting closer.

  ​We pulled down what Linde called Zone Road and I could see an archery range out one window, a tennis court out the other. Beyond the court, a half dozen guys played soccer on a massive field despite the layer of wet snow covering the muddy grass. Further down the road there were cabins and a baseball diamond. A small lake with a ropes course going over and through it a hundred feet in the air. I could smell the distinct smell of horses but couldn’t see any out the windows.

  ​Linde pointed out different activities as we passed them, a lacrosse field, four ropes courses, over 100 miles of backcountry backpacking trails. There was a larger lake for water skiing, sailing, fishing and swimming. There were four rivers nearby for white water rafting, canoeing, and kayaking. As she pointed out different areas, Art would interject with facts about the visitors to the group, what he called packs. Rather than ask, I assumed it was camp jargon for fanny pack, backpack, or travel pack wearers around the grounds.

  ​“In the summers, this part of camp is bustling with packs,” Art explained, as we followed a loop around what they called the Adventure Village which boasted what would be my office, the camp stores, and the primary dining hall, and the pub, “We can manage about 200 at a time in cabins, more if they’re tenting it.”

  ​“This summer we’re hosting the big solstice conference and will have nearly 1,000 visitors for a whole week,” Linde said giddily, “We’ll have all sorts of events. Packs can compete in sports, on the trails, in the water. It’ll be kind of like the Olympics, but more competitive.”

  ​“If you decide to stay on for it, we’ll be sure you’re plenty prepared before then,” Art assured, “Around this bend are the smaller dining halls, packs usually rent these out with their cabins, they can cook their own meals if they do that, many prefer that, we’ll explain how you’ll be coordinating those orders tomorrow.”

  ​I nodded, wishing I had thought to take notes.

  ​“Beyond that cabin about a mile and a half is the artificial climbing wall, another two mile hike is a cliff that more experienced climbers enjoy.”

  ​“How much of this is WAZ property?” I asked, knowing it was big but not realizing it was miles big.

  ​“Oh, we own about 10,000 acres outright, we lease another 9,000 from the government and private landowners, for the wolf preserve Linde runs,” Art said.

  “Most of the property is treated just as well as if not better than national forests. We have a small dedicated group of rangers and most of our adventure staff are volunteer firefighters if the need ever arises, knock on wood that it doesn’t.”

  ​Art pulled the SUV to a stop, back in the Adventure Village “Speaking of home, let’s show you your digs and a map. You’ll be staying above your office, I hope that’s ok. If you decide to stay the whole summer you might opt to move to one of the team cabins to get away from the tavern noise in the summer but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  Linde grabbed my duffle from the trunk and I got the rest, Art ran ahead to unlock the office.

  “You are one of the few with indoor stairs,” Linde said with a smile, “Which is super nice in the winter.”

  “We don’t have electric heating/cooling in the offices,” Art said starting his tour, “but you have a big fireplace down here, and a space heater upstairs. I’ll have one of the rangers give you the safety spiel about how we do fires and space heaters after dinner. For insurance reasons, we can’t have you doing that without their ok.”

  “Totally understandable,” I said.

  I took a moment to marvel at the well-built log cabin surrounding me. The bottom floor was four rooms, a waiting area, a front office, which would be mine, a back office, which was for Art’s use and a small storage room with boxes of maps, pamphlets, and a wall of keys to cabins and campsite amenities.

  The waiting room was small with uncomfortable looking metal chairs sitting in a u shape around the massive stone fireplace in the center of the room. On the wall was a large map of the grounds with a dramatic YOU ARE HERE sticker pointing to the center of the Adventure village loop.

  I followed Art through to my office, my desk was three large oak stumps with a hollowed out section for the desktop and space for my legs and filing cabinets. I had three monitors, a ham radio and a handheld radio. Behind the desk was a wall with a large bookshelf filled to the brim with books on local flora and fauna, first aid, campfire songs, and ghost stories.

  “The stairs to your living space are behind the bookshelf,” Linde said with a smirk, “My brother remodeled this cabin for us about two years ago and he insisted on it. Just pull on the center shelf forward and the whole thing will slide over for you.”

  Art demonstrated then led me upstairs.

  “It’s not much, but you don’t have roommates,” Art said, “You’ll want to devise some sort of curtain for your days off, the windows have eastern exposure. Through there is document storage, through there, but now that someone will be living up here, we’ll make sure you’re the one that gives access to it.

  I set my bags down on the small camp bed, a thin mattress on wood, just like I remembered from Camp Warckamee. Simple, easy to clean, easy to move, and murder on the back after 4 months. I felt a smile cracking my face, “It’s perfect.”

  “Wonderful, it’s supposed to snow tonight, so if you need extra blankets, I’ll show you where we keep them,” Art said.

  I got the full tour of my building. My office, my storage, my bedroom. Next Art showed me the big map on my waiting room’s wall and gave me a smaller map and the handheld radio. “Keep it on channel 1 unless one of the rangers directs you to theirs. They’ll only do it in event of emergencies. We try to limit the exposure of the packs to any unfolding issues so if you are on site and need to give that information, go to the secure channels.”

  Art took out a permanent marker and drew on my map. He marked areas that were off limits without a wilderness guide, which was all the areas about 100 yards off trail. Areas that were unisex vs gender changing rooms, showers, and bathrooms.

  “You’re pretty centrally located for everything except a women’s showers,” he explained with an apology in his voice, “but it’s only a half mile up the hill by the archery range we passed earlier. In the early days the camp didn’t get many women, and the ones we got didn’t care too much about privacy one way or the other. It’s in our five year plan though.”

  I shrugged, “As long as the showers have curtains and hot water I’m not too worried.”

  Art’s mouth twitched but he continued on in his paper tour, “Staff meals are in the Adventure Village Cafeteria, AVC, until May 1st, from there on it’s eat when you can where you can. On days off, you can rent one of the camp cars and go into town, the motor pool is down here. We
’ll get you trained on ATVs, stationed here, here, and here, if you ever need to get across camp quickly.”

  He pointed out a few more important areas, the fire watch tower, the check in points where backcountry hikers can call for assistance, short cuts for getting around the camp, and the other staff cabins.

  Art checked his watch, “Better get you to the AVC so we can get you introduced to everyone. Oh, and one quick thing,” he pulled out another pamphlet, “Almost all the staff are shifters of some kind and almost all the guests are too. So here’s a quick guide on how to tell a genuine wild animal from someone on a run.”

  “You messing with me Art?” I asked looking at the trifold with Safety with Shifters in red ink across the top.

  Art shook his head. His face was serious, then again it seemed to waffle between serious and flustered since I met him.

  “I wanted to tell you before you took the job, but Linde said you already knew about them, having lived with Sig for so long.”

  “Wait, are you trying to tell me that Sig’s a shifter?” I asked with a snort. This was a pretty ridiculous prank for such an uptight dude. “Yeah ok, I know you’re messing with me.” I started walking toward the AVC following my map. Art came walking along behind me.

  “I’m not messing with you, Souli,” he said. I hadn’t felt threatened by Art before, but the seriousness in his tone had me questioning what this man was capable of. “Don’t forget the paperwork you filled out already has a very severe Non-Disclosure Agreement. You cannot reveal the identities of staff or guests.”

  I turned and smiled at him, “Don’t worry Art, your secret’s safe with me,” I turned and gave him a dramatic wink. Some movement from behind the cabin caught my eye. A big brown bear came ambling through the trees. I felt my eyes widen, it wasn’t a brown black bear, it was a grizzly, it had the hump between its shoulders.

  I started to feel dizzy, “.... that’s a grizzly.....grizzlies aren’t native to Minnesota.....shit.”

  I turned back to Art who was watching me without cracking a grin. He wasn’t messing with me.

  Shifters were real.

  And I was their camp secretary.

  Chapter 3

  ​The grizzly bear approached faster than I could back away. In seconds he went from several yards away to mere feet. I could feel its hot breath on my exposed skin. Grizzly bear.

  ​No, grizzly bear shifter.

  Holy buckets.

  I shrugged, “Well my deepest apologies Art,” I said, patting his shoulder. The grizzly was coming watching the grizzly come closer.

  My mind raced with all the bear safety lectures from hiking in Wyoming with Sig’s family but a huge part of those lectures was ‘never get close to a bear.’ I was now mere yards from one of the deadliest predators on the planet, and he kept coming closer.

  “Uh... Art... I have to apologize, I really thought you were messing with me. I have learned my lesson and will treat your word as gospel from now on. Now, I did not read my safety pamphlet and I’m not sure proper etiquette here, but,” I leaned over, and whispered, “I’m a little nervous of the b. e. a. r. and I don’t want to offend my new ... uh...coworker?”

  “Hey, Ebsen,” Art said, talking to the bear with the same nonchalance I’d use to greet a friend on the street. Art patted my shoulder and continued to talk to the bear like it was people, which I guess, technically, it was, “I brought the new office manager. She’s going to need the space heater safety lecture before it snows tonight. Are you free after dinner?”

  I waved awkwardly and the bear sat on its backside like a teddy bear. Its nose seemed to move independent from its snout, twitching. The bottom lip drooped down in an ursine approximation of a goofy grin, yellow brown eyes focused on me.

  “I’m Souli,” I said, trying not to sound as awkward as I felt. The bear’s head turned like a confused puppy then snuffed looking at Art.

  “He’ll meet us inside. We’ll probably have to reintroduce you two, not much gets through to the human side when shifted in animal form,” Art said. He led me away from the grizzly bear ranger to the large log cabin with Adventure Village Cafe carved into the log above the door, “I think his bear’s confused by Sig’s scent on you. You’re going to get a lot of confused sniffs until after you’ve done a load of laundry or two.”

  I smelled the collar of my shirt, it smelled like detergent, “I smell like Sig?”

  Art nodded, leading me to a stack of trays, he briefly explained how the cafe works. It was laid out like a food court with a large salad bar in the middle. Art explained that different flavors of shifters had different dietary preferences, even in human form, and WAZ staff did their best to accommodate. I opted for a burger and spinach salad. Food is included as part of pay and presumably part of the adventure zone fees for guests as no pricing was listed and there was no till.

  The dining area had tables with benches that could probably fit over 100 if they squeezed. Opposite the food court was a small raised platform. I found Art sitting next to Linde whispering to each other. Linde smiled at me when I sat down.

  “I am so sorry we didn’t prepare you better,” she said genuinely apologetic, “mom said there was no way you didn’t know. She said Sig must have told you. I mean, you’ve been to his family’s den.”

  “Okay, I believe shifters are real... I mean... yeah, okay that’s true. But there is no way Sig is a shifter....” I shook the impending thoughts from my mind. Even if he was, it didn’t matter, “I don’t care. We broke up, we’re done, what secrets he kept are all his. I’m here to work and give the guests the best adventure of their lives” I smiled broadly.

  Linde chuckled, “So you’re not going to freak out or anything?”

  “No promises,” I said, “I might need to be reminded tomorrow morning in case I think this whole thing is a nervous dream. But I’m good, I promise.”

  “Mom said you’d be,” Linde said with a noticeable sigh of relief. She pulled out a clipboard and started flipping through page after page of to-do lists until she found the one she was looking for. Her nostrils flared for a brief second and she noted something on her clipboard.

  “We’ll do safety orientations tonight, I smell that Ebsen just came in, he’ll walk you through those. Tomorrow I’ll get you acquainted with our travel software and filing systems. We have the rest of April before the first large pack comes but I’ll need your help getting the summer staff travel coordinated, they’re due to arrive later this week. Once they’re here, I’ll have you sit in on as many training sessions you can fit in.”

  Linde slid one of her pages over to me. It was a checklist of all the possible activities for an employee at WAZ to be trained on. My heart started racing as I looked it over. Rock climbing, whitewater rafting, ropes courses, backcountry camping... I made a mental priority list of activities. I couldn’t keep the excitement off my face. Sure, this was going to be an office job, but until packs started showing up, I got to enjoy the activities. And there were so many I wanted to do.

  Linde looked up, from her training to-do list and waved at someone behind me. “Hi Ebsen, have you been introduced to Souli?”

  I looked up, and up, and up before I met the eyes of Ebsen, the bear, who in human form was built like a .... bear.

  There I said it. The man was over 6 feet tall with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. He had shaggy sandy blond hair, hooded whisky brown eyes, and a strong jaw dabbled with five o’clock shadow. He raised an eyebrow at me and sat down next to me. I felt my part of the bench rise slightly off the ground under his weight.

  “Not formally,” his voice was deep and rumbly. He stuck a large mitt-like hand in front of me. It took a second for me to get over the shock of meeting a bear in human form, I almost forgot my manners.

  His hand was callused, but incredibly warm, it also made my normal sized hand look like a child’s in comparison.

  “Nice to meet you, I’m Yuri Ebsen, but everyone calls me Ebsen.” He smiled at me . His voice was a r
umble I could feel through our still connected hands.

  “Souli Barre, at your service,” I replied, still shaking his hand like an idiot. He definitely worked those mitts, “Are you the guy going to teach me how not to burn my office down?”

  His brown eyes narrowed for a second before realizing I was joking and he let out a loud table shaking laugh, finally dropping my hand in his exuberance before he answered with a simple nod.

  I turned back to my burger and ate as Art continued to point out portions of the map and explain their functions and Linde tried to cram more training sessions into my increasingly packed April schedule.

  I heard more people file in and the AVC grew louder with chatter and laughter. I spared a glance around the room, the long tables were nowhere near full.

  There were about thirty people total of all ages, genders, and nationalities sitting in four primary groups. The table in the far back corner seemed to be made entirely of older men, most had a dabble of grey at their temples. The middle table was filled with a group of younger men and women. It was the loudest table, laughing and occasionally throwing food across at each other. The two tables in the front, on opposite sides of the room were a mix of ages but kept to themselves leaning in to talk to each other.

  The only thing all of them had in common was they were all reasonably physically fit, not too surprising for a place calling itself Wilderness Adventure Zone, but in the back of my mind, I was curious if it had to do with being shifters. Did being part animal make a person fitter than the average bear... err man? I wondered what kind of shifters they were and if that played a part in how they looked in human form.

  Ebsen was a grizzly, and he bore passing resemblance to his bear form, same hair color, eye color, and comparable physique. What did that make Linde and Art. If they were married did that mean they were the same animal?

  “Souli” I heard Linde say my name, bringing my attention back to the present and my own table.