bear – Pain In The Bud

Big Buddy And The Black Bear: A True Story Of Suspense And Stupidity!

My first real camping trip ended in disaster, though thankfully without any injury besides wounded pride, after an encounter with a ravenous bear.

The bear was outside my tent.

Its moans cut through the night above the cricket song and I could see its distorted shadow cast against the fabric by the dying fire as it circled our camp.

Something ripped — the canvas of one of our packs, I later learned when daylight revealed the carnage outside — and there was a loud crunch of ursine teeth against plastic packaging and the styrofoam of an egg container.

Then my friend Larry did what he’d been doing all night: he raised a ruckus by banging pots and pans, scaring the 500-pound animal away. Temporarily.

The bear’s breathy vocalizations faded into the distance. After a few minutes I breathed a sigh of relief. I had to pee so badly, worse than I’d ever had to go in my life, but there was no way in hell I was stepping out of my tent. Then I heard the air horn from the campsite a mile or two away.

The bear was making its circuit again. I was still too scared to leave my tent.

An adult male American black bear, the species I encountered in New York’s Adirondack Mountains. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

How we blundered into a bear

Larry was a family friend and outdoorsman. Since my brother and I were kids of a single mom it had become something of a tradition for Larry to take us and others on annual camping trips every summer. Without Larry, who was the closest thing to a father I’ve had, we would have never known what it was like to tell scary stories by a fire, hook a fish from a river or navigate rapids while whitewater rafting.

That year we headed upstate to the Adirondacks with the aim of climbing Mount Marcy, the highest peak in New York.

Most people think of New York City when they think of our state, and the city and its environs were what I was familiar with. But New York is a big state and once you get north of the suburbs it’s almost entirely rural. If randomly blindfolded and dropped in the middle of the Adirondack mountains, few people would guess they were in New York.

We arrived at the ranger station, registered our destination and set off. Why we didn’t know about the bear I cannot say, but we found out later he was notorious. The rangers were well aware of him, and he was the reason why, after hiking for some 15 miles to Marcy Dam, we saw dozens of packs hanging from the dam itself, fastened to the metal safety railings.

That was our second opportunity to learn about the bear, but when we saw the packs we just shrugged and made our way further in to find a good spot for camp.

After the day-long hike we hurried to set up our tents and got a fire going before sundown, then made dinner. When you’re camping — real camping, not the drive-up KOA camping that’s really an excuse to get drunk with your buddies — you do two things to keep critters out of your camp: you hang your packs from a tree with a sturdy branch, and you dump any leftovers several hundred feet away.

So when my brother and my friend Richie went to go dump the leftover mac and cheese, they came back white-faced.

“Larry! Larry!” they shouted. “There’s a bear!”

Larry shook his head.

“You didn’t see a bear,” he said, laughing.

“But we did!”

Larry didn’t believe them, and I didn’t either. Until I was ripped out of sleep by the sound of a prime specimen of ursus americanus tearing through our camp, helping himself to our food.

Black bears aren’t aggressive in the same way their ursine brethren can be, but they can still be exceptionally dangerous. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

I cannot tell you how many times the bear came back that night, or how many return trips it took him to consume every last morsel of food we brought with us.

What I can say for certain is that he spent the majority of the night making a loop between our camp and two others, including the camp with the air horn.

I was already a bit freaked out even before the bear invited himself into our camp. I had never been in true wilderness before. I never knew night could be so dark, nor had I ever been to a place where there wasn’t even a hint of the ambient glow of a city on the horizon.

I tried to convince myself that the thin fabric of my tent somehow afforded protection the same way a child terrified of ghosts or monsters convinces himself his blanket can shield him from the supernatural. Every kid knows the monsters can’t get you if you’re under your blanket.

By the time the bear came around for the second time that night, I had to piss like a racehorse. I toyed with the idea of slipping out ninja-like for a stealth draining, but who was I kidding? I was too terrified to move.

I thought of urinating every few seconds. I dreamed about it. In the video game The Legend of Zelda, which I played a lot as a kid, there are hidden lakes on the map where fairies restore your health. Your character, Link, says “Ah! Refreshing!” as you’re healed.

I dreamed I was Link stepping to the edge of a lake, where a fairy kindly invited me to urinate.

“Ah!” I said as I emptied my bladder. “Refreshing!”

For a few glorious moments, it was real. It was so good.

Then I woke up and I was back in the tent with a full bladder and the bear outside, tearing his way through our gear in search of every last bag of peanuts and stick of beef jerky.

I know what you’re thinking because I thought it too. I reached a hand down just to be sure. I was dry. In a way I wished I had peed myself. At least it would be over.

Larry was banging the pots and pans again, and a few minutes later the familiar air horn cut through the night, giving us a temporary reprieve. The bear was someone else’s problem for the next 20 or 30 minutes as he made his rounds to raid the other campsites.

The post apocalypse

The long night finally relented. Birds began tweeting, the sun came over the horizon, and our ordeal was over.

I poked my head out of the tent, then ran to the nearest tree and recreated Niagara Falls in miniature for what felt like an eternity. Sweet relief!

Then I noticed the carnage.

It was actually even more of a mess than this!

Every pack we’d left hanging from a nearby tree had been shredded. The torn fabric and zipper remnants swayed in the breeze, still attached to the ropes around the tree branch. Potato chip bags had been popped with bear teeth and crunched along with their contents, then spat back out. The ground was strewn with egg shells, and all that was left of the bacon was half a plastic wrapper.

The entire area was dusted with powdered milk. Remnants of graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows were scattered in the dirt. In a horrifying display of casual strength, the bear had split a Coleman cooler in half to get at the raw hot dogs and hamburgers inside . There were the barely recognizable remnants of a box of Lucky Charms. And one pack was left intact except for the smallest zipper pouch, which had been clawed open for the handful of granola bars inside.

I stared at it, amazed that an animal could smell food in sealed plastic wrappers inside a canvas rucksack.

We broke camp quickly because we had to go back to civilization. There was no other option: we had no food left.

When we returned to the ranger station, Larry spoke to one of the rangers, who said the other campers were hanging their packs from the dam because the notorious bear had learned how to cut down packs hanging from trees. Just like it did to our gear. Then he reminded Larry why it’s a good idea to have those conversations before you venture into the woods.

It was the most terrifying night of my life, but as an adult I just shake my head and smile whenever I think about it. And all these years later, when I wake up in the middle of the night and stumble to the bathroom, Bud in tow, I still shake off the last drops, sigh, and whisper “Ah, refreshing!”

Note: Every damn word of this is true, or at least as accurate as it can be when experienced through the eyes of a 10-year-old and recalled all these years later. It eventually occurred to me that Larry must have been terrified, if not for himself, then for the fact that he had someone else’s kids with him. I know I’d be crapping bricks if I’d taken my brother’s kids camping and an unreasonably clever bear wouldn’t leave us alone. I told this story to my nieces one night, and instead of having a bit of sympathy, they think it’s absolutely hilarious that their dad and uncle were terrorized by a black bear during a camping trip. Their favorite part is my dream of being Link from The Legend of Zelda and joyfully peeing into a lake. Apparently my misfortunes are rich comedic material for them.

Header image via Wikimedia Commons

Buddy The Cat Bravely Scares Off Yuge Bear!

“Hold my beer,” Buddy said after watching a video of another feline sending a pair of bears running with an awesome display of fiery intimidation.

NEW YORK — The bear picked the wrong home and the wrong cat to mess with.

Buddy the Cat was taking his traditional 3 pm nap after third lunch when he was rudely disturbed by a ruckus outside.

“Stay here, I will check it out,” he told his human, then hopped down from the couch as his powerful stride took him toward the sliding glass doors leading out to the balcony.

A huge form was huddled just outside the glass, and when the lumbering beast turned, Buddy took a sharp breath. It was a bear, a particularly impressive specimen.

Lesser felines would have been terrified, but Buddy stood calmly before the bear and addressed it.

“Inferior animal,” the fearless feline announced. “Yes, you! You are trespassing on Buddesian territory. I order you to cease any and all ursine activity and return forthwith to your place of origin or the nearest convenient parallel dimension!”

“What are you doing?!” a terrified Big Buddy whispered.

Buddy turned toward his human. “It’s from Ghostbusters. Calm down, I know what I’m doing.”

The bear yawned and let out a deep, rumbling moan.

The bear flinches as Buddy unleashes a terrifying roar!

“I can see I’m not dealing with the sharpest claw on the paw,” Buddy said. “Okay, bear, do you understand this?”

Buddy eased back on his haunches and raised two powerful forelimbs, his considerable meowscles rippling meowscularly beneath the luxurious sheen of his silver fur.

The bear watched warily, then flinched instinctively as the intimidating feline launched a sequence of aggressive and powerful paw strikes. The ursine beast recoiled from the thunderous impacts of paws against glass, reconsidering its position in the face of such a formidable display of force.

The massive creature turned in retreat, casting one last fearful glance at the Herculean felid before beating a hasty retreat.

Once he was satisfied the bear was gone, Buddy turned and sauntered back toward the couch, lifting himself onto it in a single graceful leap.

“And that,” the handsome silver feline said, “is how you deal with a bear.”

Fearless Cat Forces Bear To Retreat, PLUS: Flow’s Void Sparks Interest In Black Moggies

Flow’s Cat has improved things for his fellow voids, who are drawing more interest from adopters.

This video is bonkers!

A cat who is definitely not Buddy stared down a bear and made the ursine interloper retreat in fear in a confrontation caught on camera.

The stand-off happened in Pike County, Pa., and the cat’s name is T’Challa, after the titular hero of Marvel’s Black Panther franchise.

“I think perhaps this young bear woke this kitty cat up because he was not happy that he was sharing his deck with him when he woke up and he expressed himself,” said the homeowner whose security cameras caught the exchange.

After T’Challa made a series of feints, the bear — who is orders of magnitude larger — beat a hasty (for a bear) retreat.

Well done, T’Challa! Someone get that good boy a treat!

Go with the Flow

Part of what makes Flow so spectacular — aside from the breathtaking visuals, clever narrative and the strange world it portrays — is how endearing its star, Cat, is.

The little guy shows enormous resilience as he survives a biblical flood, gets chased by a flock of angry secretary birds, learns to swim, and finds his confidence in situations that would terrify any feline. He’s incredibly expressive, revealing his emotions with every twitch of his tail and whiskers, as well as his distinctive meow and, most of all, his bright yellow eyes.

He’s also the first feline star to win an Oscar and a Golden Globe, as well as many other film awards for the universally praised film.

Now he’s got another accomplishment to his name: he’s improved the way people view black cats, who have long been the victims of absurd human superstition and have a hard time finding forever homes because of the stigma.

Animal welfare organizations are reporting heightened interest in black cats (good), but not a manic rush to adopt them as has happened when other species and breeds are popularized in films. (Bad, because those pets are often discarded when the novelty wears off.)

In other words, Cat may have inspired something close to parity in adoptions in some places.

Cat is beloved in director Gints Zilbalodis’ home country of Lithuania. The capital, Riga, is now adorned with street art of the little guy, including a statue sitting atop a major monument in the heart of the city.

Geniuses Pull Wild Bear Cubs Off Tree To Take Selfies, Orphaning One

A group of people in North Carolina plucked two bear cubs off of a tree, dancing and laughing as they took selfies with the traumatized baby animals.

The World Wildlife Federation’s last Living Planet Report warned in 2022 that 69 percent of all wildlife has disappeared since 1970. A terrifying report from conservationists this year brought news that the natural world has fallen silent, with billions of animals erased from existence.

Why?

Because humans reproduce and rampage across the planet, no longer subject to survival of the fittest, with absolutely no regard for the species we share our world with.

That was proven again this week when a group of five people spotted bear cubs clinging to a tree not far from an apartment complex in Fairview, North Carolina, and decided the best course of action was to tear the terrified cubs off the branches so they could take selfies with them.

“So she can say, ‘Here, take my picture, post it all over. I’m holding a black bear,'” a horrified witness, 21-year-old Rachel Staudt, said as she filmed the group on Tuesday. “That’s insane. That’s 100% what she’s doing. She’s taking pictures of him.”

People taking selfies with bear cubs — A still from Staudt’s video shows members of the group holding the bear cubs.

The woman called the authorities, who responded with a biologist from the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission, but not before the damage was done.

“Did she just drop it?” the woman filming the group said as one of the group members did a “celebratory dance move,” dropped one of the cubs, then chased it to get it back and take more photos.

The group told police and the biologist that both bears had “escaped,” but the biologist found one of the traumatized cubs near a retention pond on the property.

“The cub appeared to be lethargic and frightened. It looked to be favoring one of its front paws and was wet and shivering,” Game Mammals and Surveys Supervisor Colleen Olfenbuttel told CBS News. “The cub’s condition is likely a result of the unnecessary and irresponsible actions of the people involved.”

That cub has now been orphaned, as authorities said it’s not in any condition to be returned to the wild and will have to be raised and rehabilitated for the next four to six years. The other cub couldn’t be found. Hopefully it escaped.

Bear cub — The orphaned and traumatized bear cub that was recovered Tuesday after a group of people plucked the cub and its sibling out of a tree to take selfies with them.

Authorities noted it’s not uncommon for mother bears to leave their cubs briefly to go foraging, much like mother cats do with kittens and cubs when they need to hunt to feed themselves.

Common sense and a basic respect for wildlife is usually enough to keep people from snatching the animals, but much like people who pay money to take selfish with tigers who have been sedated to their eyeballs, any concern for the welfare of animals — if it existed in the first place — is quickly shelved as people can’t resist the opportunity to grab a selfie in the age of narcissism-fueled social media.

Authorities say they’re conducting an investigation, although it’s not clear what needs to be investigated. The people involved documented their behavior with selfies, and Staudt’s video clearly shows them handling the confused and scared baby animals.

The kind of ignorance demonstrated by the group doesn’t remedy itself. Authorities should make an example of them by prosecuting them to the fullest extent of the law while redoubling efforts to educate people about keeping their distance from wild animals. And if that’s not enough motivation, or if people can’t be bothered to respect wildlife, they should consider that this would be a very different story if the cubs’ mother had been nearby.

Top image courtesy of Pexels