Bear With Me
A Geezer’s Notebook, By Jim Foster
I am not what one would call a woodsman, nor would I be considered an outdoorsy kind of guy, but I thought I was at least relatively well-versed on the habits of the members of the animal kingdom. When I was in public school (R. H. McGregor, quite likely one of the finer educational centres in the City of Toronto that proudly boasts almost 50% of the pupils eventually graduate from Grade Eight, although considerably fewer go much further) we were told most animals in northern climes hibernate. The little woodland creatures stuff themselves with fruits, berries and occasionally the choice parts of their furry neighbours, then curl up in a cave, burrow, or under your front porch and go to sleep. That is what most do, not all by the way, but most. There are a few exceptions and please take this as a warning.
I must have at one time or another told you about a frightening experience I had while cross-country skiing near Huntsville late at night. This happened several years ago when I was in peak condition and not the sloth I am today. We heard wolves howling from across a frozen lake. My immediate response was for the safety of my wife and friends and quickly devised a plan to protect them from a vicious attack by a pack of marauding carnivores. Granted stealing the skis of one of the chubbier chaps in the group did not go over well with the rest of the group, although his wife seemed pleased as he was well-insured. Fortunately we all survived that attack, partly because the wolves were miles away and also the fact we were about thirty feet from the front door of Grandview Lodge.
In spite of what we learned in school, I never quite trusted the little bit of folklore we were taught about hibernation. (I was going to say, ‘titbit’ but I used the word once and my cousin, Sue Ann, thought it was in poor taste. I explained the word can be found in my Oxford Dictionary but she is convinced it is I added it in ballpoint pen.)
There is a point to all this and I am coming to it. Squirrels don’t seem to hibernate. They run around all winter long looking for the nuts they hid all summer and seldom find once the snow comes. There is also a rabbit in our hedge who hops by some mornings. Once in a while, usually every second week, we might see a raccoon checking out the neighbourhood garbage bags just to make sure they have the required red tags.
Now here is my problem, what about bears?
I occasionally wander a walking trail that used to be the old railway route to Barrie. The tracks are long gone, but I must confess a little idiosyncrasy of mine. I still spin around every now and then just to make sure the engineer didn’t forget to blow his whistle. So far so good, but you can never be too careful. I know a retired engineer and Bill seems a trifle odd.
It has occurred to me several times that a bear may not know the hibernation rules and could be wandering in the bush beside me. Or, if it is a male bear, he could very well have the same problem as many of us seniors are blessed with and has to get up to go to the john three or four times a night. Once or twice I have been sprinkling on a tree and had the odd feeling that a bear is doing the very same thing not twenty feet from me.
And herein lies the problem, what does one do if one meets a bear in the forest? The rules are fairly loose on the subject. Years ago, the folklore was to lie down and play dead. That may or may not be the wise thing to do – especially since a common sight in the wintertime is a pair of empty shoes.
As a public service I googled it. There are several suggestions and I noticed that playing dead is not on the top of the list, but surprisingly it is in there. It is recommended that if you must you should lie face down with your legs apart. Don’t be rude, it is because it will make it more difficult for the bear to roll you over. I assume for bears the tasty parts are on the front.
Do not climb a tree either, a black bear will climb the tree and eat you, a grizzly will shake the tree until you fall down and then eat you. (Stolen from a delightful little book, Bite-Sized Doug, by Doug Speirs of the Winnipeg Free Press)
It is advisable if you are ever in the situation to talk calmly. The bear will likely get bored, and just like your friends do whenever you start talking, walk away.
But, under no circumstances, and this is important, under no circumstance should you ask him or her if they know Jesus.
