I was Sure it was a Rifle

It was 4am in the Eastern Sierras and the moon was new. The night before, when it became all dark and all stars, I crawled into bed and let the two strong IPAs do their  silent duty.

Now camping alone as a woman comes with its share of apprehensions and vulnerable moments. Especially when said woman has an affinity for true crime podcasts to break up music on long road trips.  So when I woke at 4am to ensure I didn’t miss the sunrise (eastern Sierra sunrises are my favorite thing in life and if you’ve never witnessed the peace and beauty of this moment while sipping coffee on a cool summer morning then put it on your bucket list like right this very second) I was alarmed to see a car parked 20ft from mine, that hadn’t been there when I retreated to my bed at dark. 
Questions raced through my sleep fogged mind. This is BLM land. You can camp anywhere. Why would someone pull so close to (pretty much in)  another persons camp site in the middle of the night? Next to a single woman? As if they had peeked into my truck to see who was inside.  I reached for my machete just Incase. And then a light came on in the uninvited car. It was a single man. 


Now I’m gripping the machete wondering if I could actually stab someone if this clearly maniacal man walked up to my truck and tried to get me. I peaked out the back window with one eye just barely over the edge of the window for close to 30 minutes while he turned his light on and off on and off repeatedly, toying with me no doubt. The sounds of Zeus’ low growl became the soundtrack for my eminent attack. And then it happened. He got out and started walking around. I so desperately wished my pepper spray wasn’t buried below the luggage on my front passenger seat while simultaneously patting myself on the back for leaving the driver seat open incase I needed a quick exit. The man walked around to the back of his car and opened the trunk (probably making room for me) and pulled out a backpack (full of murder tools of course) and a long skinny object (rifle, has to be a rifle) and then continued to circle his car. The light began to cast behind the whimsical rock formations just enough for me to get a clearer picture of this man, this man who was carrying a.......tripod.....a fucking tripod and a backpack full of camera equipment. Why? To shoot the MOST MAGICAL SUNRISE ON THE PLANET LIKE I WAS THERE TO DO. There’s really no moral other than this, I really need more camping buddies. 

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