Like any good piñata, Pepe was made in México. Constructed from a hodgepodge compilation of used car advertisements and weight-loss flyers, Pepe was a classic piñata. And he had no idea what adventures awaited him at Yosemite National Park.

Pepe stands guard while the LO team explores the Yosemite Valley.

Eduardo and I met Pepe at a crossroads in his life. We promised him adventure. Even while nestled amongst his brothers in an overflowing cardboard bin at a Grocery Outlet, Pepe stood out. As much as it is physically possible for piñata to look adventurous, Pepe looked adventurous. So, we bought him and loaded him up in a car bound for Yosemite.

Although still in disbelief that we were actually going to buy a piñata for our camping trip, Eduardo welcomes Pepe to our Latino Outdoors family.

Pepe was always destined for the mountains. He ventured high into the Stanislaus National Forest before descending into Yosemite Valley. He watched the heavy rain outside Sacramento become light snow in Groveland. He even offered to help us wrap snow chains around Eduardo’s tires after the car almost veered off an icy forest road.

although truth be told, piñatas know very little about snow chains.

Wherever Pepe went in the Valley he was met with confusion (why is that piñata here? is it hiking? this is confusing.). But Pepe didn’t mind. He was a trend-setter – a real maverick. Plus, once people got over their initial confusion, (“yes..that is a colorful piñata stashed in between our down sleeping bags and Jetboils.”) they would ask if we had plans to break him soon. They wanted in on our piñata festivities. And so, Pepe became a celebrity of sorts.

Yet ultimately, Pepe fell victim to the elements. While our LO crew scampered about granite mountains and slid around on slick ice patches, Pepe protected our tents from mischievous raccoons.  (Apparently, in Yosemite, raccoons have learned how to unzip tent flaps.) As the afternoon set in, rain clouds rolled onto the scene and poor Pepe got caught in the storm. By the time we returned to the campground, Pepe was completely soaked.

That night we debated what to do with Pepe. Should we take him back to his former home in Sacramento? Attempt to blow-dry him? Or… should we use him to supplement our rapidly depleting firewood supply? Eventually we agreed to cremate the poor guy. (i.e. – Alfonso bugged me about it a couple times and I eventually gave in). Find below pictures of that painful, yet beautiful, funeral.

Biggest lesson learned – Piñatas burn really well. Like surprisingly well.

Pepe’s life was short-lived, true, but it was an exciting one. May we all learn from his sense of adventure, colorful disposition and unwavering belief that a belly full of candy is the key to life well lived. Hasta la siguiente Pepe!

(Also- here are more pictures from the trip!)

Michelle Piñon is Latino Outdoors’ Regional Coordinator for the Pacific Northwest. Outside of Latino Outdoors, Michelle is also the Outreach and Volunteer Coordinator for Puget Soundkeeper and a Natural Leader. Michelle spends the vast majority of her time either outside or plotting how to be outside. She also loves Justin Bieber in a non-ironic way.

Perhaps one of the most valuable and debilitating traits I inherited was a healthy of fear of everything. Literally everything. Mis padres siempra han sido miedosos despite the many bold decisions they’ve made (including their willingness to trade in the familiar calles of Ciudad Neza for the concrete grids of Southeast LA). Us Piñons are full of contradictions. In my case, I’d rather scale a granite mountain than deal with my irrational fear of El Cucuy. In fact, my paralyzing terror once compelled me to quit a job because I was /am convinced that there were/are ghosts in the basement of my would-be office.

My family claims we’re not religious. However, at any given time, there are a minimum of five veladoras at my house. Just in case.

Needless to say, this semi-paralyzing fear of any unexplained noise and all unlit corners followed me outside.  I titled this blog after the many nights I’ve spent wide awake rattled by every little rustle outside my tent. My thoughts devolve quickly in this frazzled state. Just to give you a sampling of my constant terror, here’s how my thoughts tend to unfold….

“I’m so tired. Bedtime….and what was that?”

“Oh right…water because we’re next to a creek. All good”

“Shit – what if it’s a cougar? That’s a terrible way to go.”

“There aren’t any cougars in North Cascades, right? But they are reintroducing grizzlies…so maybe….or ghosts!”

“I need to pee.”

“If I go pee, I’ll get eaten. Best to hold it. ”

“But if don’t go, I’ll wet the sleeping bag. That would be the worst. Plus my camping mate is super cute…that’s like half as bad as getting eaten.”

“I’m going outside.”

“This is how I die.”

I always pause when people ask if I believe in ghosts. Because no, of course not. But also, I shouldn’t say that because that would make the ghosts mad. So .. yes? But mostly no.

As you can imagine, I don’t often sleep well outside. Fear, compounded by that musk you get after 48 hours without deodorant, usually keeps me wide awake. I end up groggy, sleep-deprived and frustrated by the end of the night. So, as you might rightfully wonder, why subject myself to this? Why bother camping?

Well, it’s the mornings. It’s the first whiff of crisp mountain air that comes rushing in as you unzip your tent. It’s the excitement you feel when you discover that a glacial mountain was hidden behind yesterday’s clouds. It’s that first sip of pippin’ hot coffee from a campfire stove. If I don’t get through the night, I don’t get the mornings.

That’s the thing about our fears, anxieties, and irrational worries – they seem utterly useless yet they often lead us to moments of clarity. Fear is irrational and unwarranted but still deeply rooted in who we are as individuals. My miedo is part of who I am – my overactive, often imaginative mind, has led me to both moments of intense terror and unexpected courage. Morning coffees are made all the sweeter by knowing that 101 things outside my tent have not yet killed me. I worked through my fears and earned my alpine sunrise.

Aspiring REI model. Contact agent for bookings 😉

Even as I’ve logged in more hours outside, I’ve never stopped being terrified. And that’s okay. I’ve come to start appreciating fear as a necessary part of the human experience. Es parte de mi vida. Besides there isn’t anything really worth fearing in the woods – except running out of trails snacks.