As I raced around the yard, I bypassed the majority of the places I found labeling them too obvious. Instead I ran to the base of the lake trail where we had created a brush pile. To my surprise, there was a small cavity inside that I would fit perfectly in, so I chose to stop there. When my time ran out, dad began to search. Ten minutes passed by, then fifteen, and dad began to worry, calling out my name and yelling that it was time to stop. Nevertheless, I was told to be quiet when hiding from a bear so I kept my mouth shut. He began to panic, and after he had scoured our property, his thoughts went to the lake. By now he was expecting the worst, and after nothing turned up at the lake, he retreated to the yard once more and contemplated calling the police. I don’t recall why, but finally I decided to leave my place of hiding to be found. I was greeted by my dad who, in all honesty, was not pleased. He questioned why I didn’t come when called, and my answer of course was “you told me to be quiet.”
To this day, I still remember hiding in that brush pile, and how much grief I caused my dad by doing so. But I still laugh when my dad tells me that I gave him reason to call the police.