Imagine the generic formatting of a Nature Valley Bar commercial. There is a couple, early thirties or late twenties, no children. They are camped beside a fairytale stream with mountains in the background, or maybe they are kayaking. The couple smiles at each other, splits a Nature Valley Bar, smiles at the camera without anything stuck in their teeth and ascends a mountain.
I need you to know that everything about this is a lie.
The trees are so densely packed you can rarely see the mountain view from the valley where you are camped. You are not wearing makeup. Your clothes are stained with mud and sweat. You are sharing a travel toothbrush and one of those tiny tubes of toothpaste you get from the dentist for having cavities. Neither of you have showered in three days and if you want to survive the weekend you are most certainly not eating a Nature Valley Bar.
One bite and the whole thing crumbles into a delicious Hansel and Gretel trail from every bear for a five-mile radius to you. You have been sweating so hard your mouth is dry even though you are going through four liters of water a day, each. The last thing you want to eat is a Nature freaking Valley Bar (and trail mix, but that is a rant for a different day). Besides, the fragile structure of the bar would never survive a properly packed overnight backpack.
Now, are the granola bars great for when you want a snack between classes and have trashcan to lean over?
Sure, they taste pretty great.
Should you ever eat them in the wildness like the commercials suggest?
No, not unless you want to see a Mama bear and her cub.