[pct-l] Bear Aware...a fun story for a Friday Afternoon

[rubberchuckie at yahoo.com (Chuckie V)]

>>>>Chuckie V has a great story!!! He ran after a bear who took his food -- but failed to notice in the low light that the bear had stopped. He ran smack dab into the bear, scared it enough that it dropped the food, and miraculously lived to tell about it. 
 
 
 
 
It was only a great story afterward, Donna! It happened at Glen Aulin Camp, not surprisingly. 
 
Here's a long-winded but enjoyable snippet from a magazine article I wrote for the triathlon press:
 
 
Another one of my fears that kept me awake more than one night was the possibility of being ripped apart or eaten by a bear. I had numerous nightmares of vicious bear attacks as far back as night number one in the desert. And although bears aren't stupid enough to reside in the desert like man is, the PCT is rarely ever located in true desert, but instead in high, dry countryside. "If a man could survive out here, then why couldn't a bear?" I reasoned. 

 
Though I don't remember clearing customs or crossing the border, I finally entered 'Bear Country.' I knew this not only because of the signs stating that I was in 'Bear Country,' but because I also had my first run-in with a bear, literally. The setting was (where else?) but Yosemite, at a place called Glen Aulin Camp, just north of crowded Tuolumne Meadows. I had set my plastic garbage sack full of food next to my pup tent (a saying I never understood...if I can't even set up this damn tent, how could a puppy?). Anyway, I left the bag there only momentarily while I stood just a few yards away and chatted with other hikers, all the meanwhile brushing my teeth. 

 
I was going to put my toothbrush and paste in the bag before storing it in one of the many bear-proof boxes that Yosemite requires campers to use. But before I could finish polishing my molars, a black bear suddenly appeared and grabbed my goods with its teeth which, I couldn't help but notice, weren't quite as white as mine. He took off straight back into the woods from which he came. 

 
Having been beat up by my older brother nearly everyday of my childhood, my instincts lean favorably towards flight in such a fight or flight situation, and this was no different. I started running all right, but for some unknown reason I decided to run after this furry beast. By all means, I didn't plan on fighting this bear, which must've outweighed me by about two hundred and fifty pounds. I simply needed that food back. It was my food after all, and I had been lugging it without anyone else's help. It was this sort of thinking that made it clear to me I was now an integral part of Nature, where survival of the fittest is rule number one. It was show time, and time to get my food back. 

 
Understanding that survival of the fittest is Nature's most obvious rule, I still failed to grasp that there are certain other rules you must abide by when existing in the wilderness. Namely, the food chain and how it works. It's surprising I didn't give it much thought as simple as it is really. In a nutshell, the food chain works like this; bigger creatures eat smaller ones. 

 
Bears want you to believe that they become that big by eating berries, leaves, or the occasional stolen Snickers bar when, in fact, they eat people. And with the exception of your average Wal-Mart customer, whose size is nearly prehistoric, bears are almost always bigger than people are. They are certainly bigger than the average backpacker, and therefore higher on the food chain. Trust me on this one--animals only get that big from eating other animals. Why I pursued a beast so much larger than me might not make sense in Mother Nature's grand scheme of things, but truthfully I didn't give it that much thought. Again, I just wanted, rather, needed my food back. 

 
As I gave chase some of my food began falling from the plastic bag, which was now torn apart, leaving an easy trail to follow. First, some ramen noodles hit the ground, then a chocolate bar, then a tin of sardines, now with a newly formed dent on it. Instead of stopping to collect some of the calories, I kept my pursuit up in hopes that more food would continue to fall out and I'd scare the culprit off. I hadn't noticed that I was practically on top of him at that point. Smokey decided to stop by skidding on all fours when impact occurred. I nearly doubled over him when I finally came to my senses. Immediately, I turned around and retreated at a pace that would even make Carl Lewis blush. 

 
Witnesses helped me retrieve my stolen supplies, and the only items that were lost were one packet of Top-Ramen that had torn open when it landed on a rock, and a candy bar that was covered in bear slobber. I could've eaten the candy bar, and might have, except that bear slobber is the most putrid smelling stuff in the world. That's coming from a hiker who knows what nasty smells are all about. 

 
The story was told and retold throughout the night (and would later circulate up and down the trail) as a bunch of us backpacking types sat by the warmth of one of the few fires I enjoyed during my trip. I remember one fellow saying in a thick southern accent, "If I'd uh had uh video camera, I'd uh been uh millionaire..." The bad-news bear returned three more times that evening, but by then all my belongings, including me, were secured safely in one of the bear-proof containers. 
 
 
For more laughs, check out the rest of the story at: 
 
http://www.chuckiev.com/page/page/864007.htm 
 
-Chuckie