|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.
Namaste & Three Jabs to the Chest –a
For more on wild articles by Backpacker magazine: http://www.backpacker.com