bear back
september 8

Los Angeles

First, some back story. As a kid back in Kylertown, one of the rights of passage was to climb up Gap Mountain (thank god, not named after that tired retailer) and go to the 'other side'. Gap Mountain got its name from the fact that it had two peaks, one a treasure trove every August for blueberries, the other, the reputed home of black bears. It didn't help that the bear peak was overgrown, but setting foot on the other side was a risk any self-respecting blueberry buckle-loving child was willing to take. And there weren't even a lot of berries there.

I never heard of anyone actually seeing a bear up on Gap Mountain, though one did get lost in my backyard when I was very little, but I never got to see it, and I swear I heard one once growling in the woods- never got to see that one either, but just like the haunted house near the center of town, the existence of a kid eating bear lurking on Gap Mountain was real enough to make it exciting, improbable enough that we went up there again and again.

So, imagine my thrill when I got maybe two feet from a bear. A huge bear, a bear so big...

I had taken two days to drive to Telluride, Colorado for the annual film festival. I didn't reserve housing since I was sure that like my last two trips, I'd get offered housing from a local as soon as I arrived.

Well it didn't happen, so I got a site at the campground at the edge of town. I was pretty tired already, but not so tired that I could sleep through the noise from the party of foul-mouthed, unwashed hipster trash down the glen. Somehow they stopped their cursing and drumming. Then the party of alcoholic yuppie couples stumbled back from town guffawing over themselves and then passed out.

Then, around four in the morning, one of the many barking dogs started up again, and I had an inkling. The last two times I did the festival, I felt deprived at missing the dumpster diving antics of the local bruins. Even though I grew up in the country, I had never actually seen a bear. Now one was heading for my tent.

Soon after the dog started barking, I felt the ground shake, something big was stomping up to the back of the tent, where my head was. I already had a towel around my head to keep out the light but when I head the tent being pressed upon by the animal's muzzel, I quietly pulled up the sleeping bag over my face and just kept still. I did a quick inventory of the contents of my tent, and couldn't think of anything that appealed to a bear except me, nor could I think of anything I could use to defend myself, except a blanket I could maybe throw over the bear's head so I could run to my truck. Oh, and I had a bottle of tea tree oil, I was sure if it could repel mosquitoes and friends, it would work on a bear.

But none of that was necessary. The bear sniffed, and finding nothing moved on. I tried to go back to sleep, but the excitement of knowing that the only thing that separated me from a bear was a flimsy piece of fabic from a K-Mart tent kept me awake, that is, until I had to report to work, when I suddenly got a spell of tiredness that stuck with me all day.

And did I get a sudden second wind when I realized after the staff meeting that I would have to walk back to the campground in the dark without a flashlight. I jangled my keys as I strode past the last street lamp in town and into total darkness. Ahead, there was a single light at the camp station, but instead of illuminating, it just blacked out what lay beyond it. After wandering around a little, I found my tent, got undressed, stored my dirty clothes in the truck, and stretched out and waited for another visit. This time, I was prepared, my Leatherman Wave was at my side, and I had dabbed tea tree oil on the vent of my tent.

The aggro hippie children had been kicked off the campground that morning, but the obnoxious SUV driving yuppie couples crashed through the park, again laughing and singing at the top of their boozed lungs. After ten minutes of that shit I put on some clothes and walked twenty feet over to their (not allowed) camp fire.

"Excuse me, it's 3:30 in the morning, and I'm trying to sleep, could you keep it down?"
"oh, thanks for the warning," said one of the addled assholes.

I went back to my tent, they went back to their whooping and hollering. As pissed off and exhausted as I was I searched for a silver lining and thought at least they would scare any bears away that night. Still, I'd report their asses as soon as the office opened.

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