Backpacker Magazine's Predator Chart - Yipes! |
Mom: “Punch him in the nose!”
7 year old: “What if he eats my hand.”
Mom: “Well….better your hand than your face…” (!!!)
Ugh. What a conversation.
Here we are in Yosemite. As a “regular” of the area, coming
here for more than 13 years, I heave heard the wild tales of bears breaking
into cars for your smores-makings and possibly even dancing on circus balls for
scraps as they’ve become so accustomed to zoo-habituated humans.
Well, not quite.
But for the over 13 years we’ve been coming here, I, myself,
have never, ever seen a bear. Smelled a bear. Found signs of a bear. Smelled my
own fear of a bear. A few deer, a coyote in the winter. But I see more of those
in my suburban neighborhood than I do up here.
Today, however, on our rock-hopping along the south fork of
the Merced River through the southern part of Yosemite National Park near the
gentle Wawona, my two 7 year olds and Nana and I stumbled upon a momentous,
fresh-ish, magnificently enormous pile of Bear. Bear doo-doo, to be exact. And just
a half-city block from our cabin.
Filled with berries and assorted farmer’s market-like
goodies, it was spectacular. And a sign. He was here!!!
Luckily, after reading the: “Animal Attacks” article in the
September 2012 issue of Backpacker
magazine last night, I felt reassured, ahem, sort of, of what to do if, say, a
deadly predator came upon us, or we upon them.
Their advice? Run from an alligator – run away!!!! And….
Beat-Up a grizzly bear, black bear, mountain lion, and/or wolf.
Hopefully not all four at the same time.
There was no mention in the article of Velociraptors or
Dementors. So at least we can leave our wild, scary-movie dream creatures of the
Jurassic Park and Harry Potter variety out of the
“predator” list. (Or, the all time horror-predator-movie-dream-nightmare
creature: the toothy shark from Jaws.
I have never waterskied in the ocean again.)
So…. anyway, back to the bears.
After the stumble upon Smoky the Bear’s scat and subsequent
horrifying face-eating-off conversation, we walked a little faster home. Only
after taking a sweet (as in cool and gross) photo of the findings, of course.
And now, time to bone up on our karate-chop.
Hayyy-ya!
Namaste & Three Jabs to the Chest –a
For more on wild articles by Backpacker magazine: http://www.backpacker.com
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