Honestly, I didn't realize how cold and tired I was until I got to our hotel room, and sprawled myself out on my bed. As I did my treatments, I ate some food, drank some hot chocolate I stole from the hotel lobby hours before, and spent the remaining time on my phone, checking social media and texts. Finally, I took a quick shower, got into some warm PJs, and prayed to God that I wouldn't end up dead or unsuccessful the next day.

I was nervous, but excited as well. I didn't really know what the next day held for me, and I worried about my safety. I remembered what my guide said about the weather and predators, and even with my bowie knife (which I ended up forgetting in my duffel bag at the hotel room anyway), there was no way in hell I was winning a fight against a starving black bear. And a 20 gauge shotgun blast would do nothing but further enrage the bear and turn it into the most dangerous apex predator in the universe. I also worried about my accuracy. While my aim was deadly at the range, I was hard on myself, because I only got two puny little pellets out of 200 on the bullseye. I was no sniper that time.

At the same time, something within me kept on reassuring me that I was gonna have the best day of my life. Though that inner voice was small and quiet, compared to the nagging thoughts of worst case scenarios and self doubts that often come with anxiety.

I somehow fell asleep, though I kept waking up every hour because I'd fall asleep thinking about black bears, and the next thing I know, I'm standing in the middle of the wilderness in the shadow of Old Slewfoot. I just hoped 4:00 AM would come quickly, so I could get the next day over with.