derekwalden.com: The Bear Story


	The Bear Story D \| Tuesday, May 24, 2005 Much like the Star Wars 1997 Re-release, I am happy to bring one of my favorite adventure stories to a whole new audience. Like Lucas, I was able to find an original copy of my letter which I wrote to my family and friends from Philmont during the summer of 2000 and polish it up (I've cleaned up the original print, dubbed the sound in digital THX, and re-worked the Greedo blaster scene to have Han fire first (seriously, I made only minor grammatical changes)). For those needing a little background - I spent two summers working at Philmont Boy Scout Ranch in Cimarron, New Mexico. The ranch is 130,000 acres of "scouting paradise" held together by a network of staffed camps (like Clark's Fork where I worked) that participant's hike to and from over the course of 11 days on the trail. Questions? Send me an email or post a comment. Without further ado, I am happy to present Derek and The Bear. ---------------------- Derek and The Bear Early one morning I am resting peacefully in my tent, fast asleep. My tent-mate, Jeff, is gone on his days off, so it is only me in our tent. I am having a nice peaceful dream of which I can't remember anything, save the fact that all of the sudden a figure in my dream bangs loudly on a nearby window and begins screaming. Now I have a natural reaction to wake up whenever anything bad happens in my dreams, so I wake up and kind of look around. I reach over and grab my alarm clock to discover it is 5:46 in the morning. Then I hear one of my fellow staff members, Mike, yelling, "Get out of here!!! Go on!!! Run!!! Get out of here!!!" I knew it was a bear right off the bat. Typical Philmont staff procedure says we should make a lot of noise, throw rocks or sticks, and frighten the bear off. Most of you should know me well enough to know that I had absolutely no desire to get out of bed, so I assumed Mike would run the bear off without further incident. Then I heard Mike yell, "That's right, get up that tree. Oh no you don't. Stay up there. Go on." These words meant Mike had successfully "tree-ed" the bear. This is done when a group of people force the bear (or in this case the bear under it's own free will) to climb a tree. Knowing that Mike would now need a great deal of assistance, I jumped out of bed, threw on some pants and shoes, and ran out of the tent. I ran towards the sound of Mike's voice, calling out to him so I could find him. He was about 100 feet up the trail that leads from our cabin to the wrangler bunk house, and about 50 feet off the trail itself. And not 15 feet off the ground, perched up in a thick branch, sat a 120 pound black bear. The bear was deep brown, verging on black, with a brown snout. I recognized the bear on first sight - not five days earlier I had run this bear off from our lookout point. (Inset story) I was helping check in crews and had volunteered to take a crew up to our meadow campsites. About a 5 minute walk up the hill away from our cabin, we have a good-sized open high-grass meadow with 7 campsites around its edge. This particular crew was very nice and I always make it a point to talk to the crew as we hike up the hill to their campsite. Since the hill is pretty steep, I always take a break at the top (near our look out point, with a great view of Cimarron) and make sure we have all the advisors still with us. As the last advisor is coming up the trail a female advisor asks me about bears. We always go into depth during our porch talk about the huge bear problem we are having this year at Clark's.(Note: Record for bear sightings at any one staffed camp during the 3 month season: 56, Clark's Fork sightings in just over one month: 61; Record for bears captured at any one staffed camp during the 3 month season: 3, Clark's Fork bears captured in just over one month: 6) I can tell this advisor is very apprehensive about our bear situation, so I try to calm her fears by telling her, "Well, most of the bears we have seen here are down around the cabin and lower campsites, not up here in the meadow." Which is true, but the reason we don't see bears in the meadow is because the only reason we go up to the meadow is to drop off a crew at their campsite. Anyhow, we continue to their campsite and I drop them off and start heading back down the trail to our cabin. As I pass the look out point, not having left this same spot, three minutes before, there sits a black bear in the middle of the little clearing. I stare at it for about 5 seconds just in awe (probably because it took my brain a second or two to process what I should do, and also realize that I was totally alone). I then took "Of Mice and Men" out of my breast pocket and exchanged it for a rock on the ground, knowing that now I got to chase a bear. As soon as I started yelling, and launched my rock, the bear took off down the hill and I only really chased it for another 100 feet, yelling and screaming the whole way. The funny part of this story comes next, when I had to walk back up to that crew and tell that terrified advisor that I had just seen a bear. Mike and I went out 10 minutes after my sighting just doing a quick patrol through the meadow and seeing if the bear was still hanging around, but it was long gone. I wouldn't be surprised if that female advisor didn't get a wink of sleep that night. Absolutely terrified... So back to our early morning adventure, I recognized the little guy right off the bat. He has a slightly lighter snout than the rest of his body and weights in at a pretty small 120 pounds. Mike and I kept yelling and throwing rocks trying to make sure the bear didn't come back down the tree and eat us. Our yelling eventually wakes up Thomas, Britney, and our Camp Director, Kevin. Kevin radios into to base, talking to our Bear Researchers and Bob Rickliffs. Bob is Unit 20 (this refers to the radio call numbers the big wigs are assigned, basically meaning that only 19 people have more pull on the ranch than Bob) and is typically the person you call when it becomes necessary to kill a bear. Kevin's newest bear deterrent toy is a fairly nice slingshot and 250 fifty caliber lead balls (about the size a dime). After a choice shot to the face, that bear came screaming down to the lowest branch and began growling and showing its teeth. But after continued hooting and hollering, we had the bear up higher and higher, till he eventually ran out of room to run. This continued till about 7AM, when Bob finally arrived with his riffle. As it turns out, New Mexico Game and Fish had not given Bob permission to kill the bear, so he was only tranquilizing it. But upon arrival, the bear was nearly 80 feet up in the tree, way too high for Bob to get off a good shot. So we were instructed to get the bear to come down out of the tree. These instructions were carried out with a steady barrage of 50 cal lead balls that brought the bear closer and closer to the ground and yet increasingly mad. Returning to its original position about 15 feet off the ground, Bob picked up the rifle and we all cleared out to one side of the tree. Seeing this as an opportunity, the bear slides down the trunk and takes off running in the other direction. Now, I forgot to mention, whenever Bob goes anywhere he always has to things with him: his stainless steel coffee cup (although nobody really thinks there is coffee in there) and his two dogs, Winter and July. When I grow up, I want dogs like this. They are beautifully trained cattle dogs that obey any of Bob's verbal command and upon his whistle will run full steam to the back of his truck and remain in the bed until instructed to get out. So this bear hits the ground and is immediately being pursued by both dogs at a dead sprint. All three are gone in about 2 seconds and I assume all the hoopla is over. Boy was I wrong. After eating breakfast, Britney come into the cabin and says that the dogs have tree-ed the bear again. So her and I start hiking off to find the group again. Turns out the bears has run up another tree, this one a huge blue spruce, and now resides 100 feet off the ground. The same process basically occurs of trying to get the bear to come down by shooting 50 cal lead balls at it - until it is about 20 feet off the ground and Bob gets off a shot which misses as the bear jumps away. Bob repeats the procedure of filing his own tranquilizer dart (disturbing) and shooting at the bear, this shot sticking in a branch of the tree. The third shot finally hits its mark, right in the bear's butt. The sedative starts to take effect reasonably quickly. Typically, the bear climbs down the tree, tries to run, and kinda topples over. But not this bear - it goes up the tree. Way up the tree. Now, we all think the sedative will eventually cause the bear to fall out of the tree...but no. This bear falls asleep wedged between the branches and the trunk of this tree about 60 feet off the ground. We all kinda look at each other and go, "Well crap. What are we going to do now?" One of the bear researchers, Josh (a big lanky self-proclaimed red neck dork), says he will climb up and get the bear down. The last thing he says before he starts to climb is, "I am afraid of heights." He last about 2 minutes and 6 feet before he decides the ground is a safer bet for him. So who gets to climb the tree? That's right, yours truly. So, I put on my gloves, clip a coil of rope to my belt, and began my way up. I haven't yet decided the scariest part of this story for me. Maybe climbing 60 feet up a tree with no safety lines or tethers or rescue bags? Maybe having to come down the same 60 feet? Maybe pulling myself over a fork in the tree and having my head 2 feet from a bear's head? Maybe wondering how well Bob's homemade tranquilizers are working? Maybe poking the bear with my finger to see if it was still awake? Nobody really knows. Once I got up to the bear, I straddled a branch and sat on it so I could work with my hands. I first tried to get one of its paws loose so I could lower it down with the rope, but that was a no-go. It was all folded over in a big heap. So I yelled down and asked Bob what he wanted me to do next. He asked if I could push it. So I scooted over close to the bear and gave it a few pushes with my hand, trying to see how heavy it was and what the odds were that I could dislodge it from its 60 foot perch. I yelled down that I thought I could push it. Bob yelled back, "Ok, wait for us to move," and everyone on the ground cleared out. I counted to three out loud and then gave it as big as push as I could without pushing myself out of the tree. The bear kinda rolled off the limb and began crashing through branch after branch on its way to the ground. In case you are concerned, when you think bear falling in a blue spruce, think ornament falling in Christmas tree - there are a multitude of branches so that the bear's fall, although very quick and I am sure quite painful, did not permanently damage the bear. I yelled down, asking if it was dead. Bob responded that it wasn't dead and I should probably come on down. The bear was fine and still quite alive by the time I climbed all the way back down to the ground (after Bob made me retrieve his stray dart stuck in a branch). By the time I got to the ground 4 people had already begun carrying the bear back to Bob's truck so we could put it into the bear trap. I took off running towards our cabin so I could get my camera. I got my camera and met the group in front of our cabin. We all put the bear on the ground behind Bob's truck. I had made it quite clear as I was descending the tree that, "This was my bear and we are getting our picture taken." I took a bunch of pictures with me holding the bear's head in my lap. I hope they come out and there might actually be one in this envelope with the letter if I can get them all developed while in this next set of days off. (see below) So once we all had our pictures taken, we put the bear in the bear trap on the back of Bob's truck. Bob thanked me, shook my hand, and then was on his way. I went into the cabin and collapsed on the benches around our table. I asked Kevin if I could go lay down, went out to my tent, and didn't get up till lunch at 12. This is by far the coolest thing I have ever done in my entire Philmont career. I felt like the coolest guy for the next 3 days. You guys should have seen my face as I ran up to the cabin to get my camera, adrenaline pumping, big 'ol grin on my face. I was overflowing with heart pounding excitement, while knuckle fear, and pure joy. This was one to tell the grandkids and I am sure they will hear about it. D \| 5/24/2005 04:19:00 PM \| Post your comment Comments: Did I get this letter? Because I'm pretty sure I did...and I'm pretty sure it was addressed to Glaucon. :) Kate \| May 24, 2005 10:40 PM \| permalink and you look extremely sexy in the picture Anonymous \| May 24, 2005 10:42 PM \| permalink SWEET! D \| May 24, 2005 10:59 PM \| permalink Make sure my original copy of that letter gets returned. It needs to go back into the huge manila envelope of love letters you wrote to me that summer. Ooh. Speaking of those, maybe I'll post some exerpts. That'd be an interesting LJ topic... Lisa \| May 24, 2005 11:02 PM \| permalink Ha...Anonymous says "extremely sexy" I says "What's on your face." Each to their own I guess. Ashley \| May 24, 2005 11:58 PM \| permalink Now that's impressive. The most experience I ever had with wildlife was chasing frogs with wiffle ball bats when I was a kid; nothing too exciting. And I'm all about the choice of facial hair - it's every guy's right to do as they damn well please... At least until the girls say it sucks, then we're all cowards and give in. Ruvym \| May 25, 2005 11:55 PM \| permalink That comment about the facial hair is so true. D \| May 26, 2005 4:15 AM \| permalink still damn sexy Anonymous \| May 28, 2005 9:10 PM \| permalink Thanks again. You're great. Who is this? D \| May 29, 2005 11:46 PM \| permalink Hey, I worked at Clark's Fork in 2000... I think I remember the "redneck dork" Josh you wrote about... he came and stayed at our camp for a week or two. I saw a lot of bears, but had no idea that the problem was THAT bad, from a historical standpoint. That is a cool story! Speaking of BOB...We were driving back to camp one day from base camp, and passing Bob's house, my friend Matt who was driving decided to spin out... (actually it was probably accidental... he was trying to drive like the Dukes of Hazzard, which is Oh-so-tempting on those Philmont dirt roads...) and Bob "pulled us over"... Oh yeah, that was trouble! Peace michelle \| September 19, 2005 4:36 AM \| permalink Post your comment

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