The grizzly bear came into the tent on our fifth night on the river. “Bear! Bear!” Drew yelled in the middle of the night. We’d been sleeping in separate tents for safety reasons (for instance: if a bear should come into camp) and yelling, “Bear!” was a common trick we’d play on the other tent, as apparently we hadn’t matured past Boy Scouts. The shouts became a little more serious and a little more enthusiastic, and finally we poked our heads out to see a gun-wielding Drew chasing off a bear. After we’d re-secured camp, we realized that the bear had come into the vestibule of our tent—literally inches from where we’d been sleeping—and snacked on some of our gear. Oddly, we were pretty un-phased by the whole incident and fell right back asleep. When close calls have become the norm, it’s easy to brush off such incidents.