Northern Dancer
Survivalist
You hear the twigs snap and the swish of young pine branches in the dead of night and you tumble out of your cozy warm sleeping bag to listen intently. Bang! "Okay...so it's not your vivid imagination at play." "Something is really out there."
You quickly finish dressing, grab your hiking staff, whistle, bear spray, and headlight and out you go into the wilderness to check things out.
Just down the road, there is a muffled commotion at a campsite going on. There is an excited, but subdued women in her late thirties quietly saying, "Shoo...shoo...get off there!" There's a Mamma Bear with her three little bruins carefully; not forcefully or violently opening a cooler [as if she had been instructed by Yogi Bear] swishing goodies out to her youngsters.
"What should I do?" she asks. "The usual," I say. "What's that," she questions. "Push the panic button," I respond. "I don't want to wake everyone up," she bashfully says. "Okay, I say, not wanting to debate the issue, "let's watch." "Maybe take a few pictures?
Mamma Bear continued unabated rummaging through the coolers liked an excited child unwrapping Christmas presents. All the creatures have some goodie in their mouth and off they saunter away. And where do they go? She and family head back down along the trail and park themselves twenty feet from the back of my tent. "Really?" "The nerve!" Whatever they devoured along the way seemed to satisfy the pangs of hunger and no sooner had they finished when Mamma ordered all three cubs up the tree - a very tall tree.
Without even a howdy-do-you-do she rolls over and takes a nap. It's been three hours since this escapade began and I'm cold and tired. "What the heck," I thought, "I'm going back to bed."
I assisted the women in cleaning up her campsite AND moved the trailer that had the food coolers to the other side of the site - away from her tent entrance. I went to my Alaknak for a few more winks.
I'm sleeping soundly upon my cot when the sun breaks through the clouds and aims right through my window directly into my eyes. I yawn and stretch and look out across to my dining shelter to observe two cubs high tailing along the left side closest to the lake. It they did stop to smell for food I don't know, they and the rest of the family just kept going. Smart thing - there is no food or even a whiff of the same at my site.
They would be back two days later checking my place and others. They use their sensitive noses to pick up any succulent odours and would promptly invite themselves to dinner.
Foot Note
I gently helped the women see the errors of her way and provided a crash course on bear etiquette. The next night I provided a night light, as a security measure, appreciating bears frequently return to the scene of the crime.
You quickly finish dressing, grab your hiking staff, whistle, bear spray, and headlight and out you go into the wilderness to check things out.
Just down the road, there is a muffled commotion at a campsite going on. There is an excited, but subdued women in her late thirties quietly saying, "Shoo...shoo...get off there!" There's a Mamma Bear with her three little bruins carefully; not forcefully or violently opening a cooler [as if she had been instructed by Yogi Bear] swishing goodies out to her youngsters.
"What should I do?" she asks. "The usual," I say. "What's that," she questions. "Push the panic button," I respond. "I don't want to wake everyone up," she bashfully says. "Okay, I say, not wanting to debate the issue, "let's watch." "Maybe take a few pictures?
Mamma Bear continued unabated rummaging through the coolers liked an excited child unwrapping Christmas presents. All the creatures have some goodie in their mouth and off they saunter away. And where do they go? She and family head back down along the trail and park themselves twenty feet from the back of my tent. "Really?" "The nerve!" Whatever they devoured along the way seemed to satisfy the pangs of hunger and no sooner had they finished when Mamma ordered all three cubs up the tree - a very tall tree.
Without even a howdy-do-you-do she rolls over and takes a nap. It's been three hours since this escapade began and I'm cold and tired. "What the heck," I thought, "I'm going back to bed."
I assisted the women in cleaning up her campsite AND moved the trailer that had the food coolers to the other side of the site - away from her tent entrance. I went to my Alaknak for a few more winks.
I'm sleeping soundly upon my cot when the sun breaks through the clouds and aims right through my window directly into my eyes. I yawn and stretch and look out across to my dining shelter to observe two cubs high tailing along the left side closest to the lake. It they did stop to smell for food I don't know, they and the rest of the family just kept going. Smart thing - there is no food or even a whiff of the same at my site.
They would be back two days later checking my place and others. They use their sensitive noses to pick up any succulent odours and would promptly invite themselves to dinner.
Foot Note
I gently helped the women see the errors of her way and provided a crash course on bear etiquette. The next night I provided a night light, as a security measure, appreciating bears frequently return to the scene of the crime.
