The night was dark, and sleep was elusive. I was 14 years old, and camped alone in the backcountry for the first time. Well, not quite alone: my twin brother was with me. He couldn’t sleep much either. We were both too busy worrying about bears tearing up camp, lions raiding our horse string, and other unimaginable catastrophes. That’s when, in the wee hours of the morning, a crash that seemed to announce the beginning of the apocalypse sounded at the door of our tent.