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The Great American Black Bear
Here's a note that I received from a friend who belongs to the ACKC. We were
talking about bears recently and the fact that they have a bum rap. She sent me
this story and I'm putting it up as she wrote it. I believe that the moral, if
there is one, is that we've listened to those who walked the land before us and
they passed on things about bears that they'd heard--we simply did as we were
told and "learned fear". The common factor among our "teachers" is that they
carried guns and believed that the only good bear is a dead one. Ignorance
continues to amaze me--but we pass it along to our young and they to theirs.
Nobody ever really got to know the animals--they just carried on the BS.
Fortunately for Myrph, she was too young to have learned to be ignorant--she did
as her heart and soul instructed her to---as did the bear. RB
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A Bear, A Young Girl....and a Love of Berries
Photo by Bill Lea....click on the
pic to visit American Bears
So when I was but a wee thing, my dad was a blueberry fanatic. He
had a blueberry patch that covered half an acre. There were nine of
us children, the older kids had to help plant, prune and mulch in the
spring and fall, and the younger ones were the pickers. That of course
included me. We picked, canned and froze MILLIONS of blueberries each
summer and then were forced to eat the damn things all winter long. Just
now, close to fifty years later, I have begun eating blueberries again.
Sort of lost my taste for them for awhile there.
Well, the word on the oversize blueberry patch seemed
to leak out in the local black bear community. One day I'm daydreaming
away, picking those old blueberries all day, with my black dog along with
me as always. He actually cruised the blueberry patch selecting the
largest ripest ones for himself while we were out picking each day. So as
I'm picking along, what I presume (out of the corner of my eye) to be my
large black dog, meanders down the row nuzzling the berries along the way
as usual. I keep picking, but say "hi Silver King" to him as I continue
my work. He keeps meandering closer and starts horning in on my
territory, as I presume that he wants to get at the nice big ripe ones
that are around the other side of the "loaded" bush I'm working on. (Keep
in mind I'm about 9-10 years old now). So I get a little cranky with this
old dog of mine, reach out and give him a good shove, and yell at him to
go find his own "loaded" bush. As I'm giving him the shove, I do actually
turn around to look at him, and what do ya know, it's not my big black dog
at all, but a big black bear!!!!!! It was my very first bear ever, and I
was so shocked that I just stood there and stared at him (or her?) as he
continued about his business of taking over my "loaded" bush, completely
unimpressed with my push and my shout to move on.
As I stood there staring, stunned and silent with my
jaw on the ground, the REAL big black dog did appear and began to harass
the bear something fierce. With all the barking and jumping about, still
the bear just calmly took a long look at the dog, turned away and walked
out of the blueberry patch looking about as undisturbed as a creature
could possibly be. My parents did not believe my story, as they thought
it was a ploy to get out of blueberry picking, (I HAD tried many other
ploys) and continued to send me back to the blueberry patch for picking
each day. As time passed that summer and for other summers to come, I
often picked blueberries in the same patch and at the same time as the
bears. My siblings and myself (all equally hating this blueberry picking
activity) came to the conclusion that it was best to keep our mouths shut
about the bears, as if they ate lots of blueberries, there would be far
less of them for us to pick. After leashing the dog to myself on several
occasions and stomping on him for barking at the bears, he finally gave up
the ship and left them alone too.
I think it may have been three summers later, when the
blueberry crop had been seriously dwindling that my father decided to
investigate closely enough to witness the bears stealing his berries. He
was not as willing to share his berry crop as his pickers were, and he
also told us that we were lucky to still be alive with the bears raiding
the berry patch. I am sad to say he shot two of them. I don't know how
many there were, we had only seen three in the patch at one time, but how
ever many came, they all stopped visiting our berry patch after the
murders. My brothers didn't seem to care about the dead bears, (they
weren't the pickers) but one of my sisters and myself cried for days over
the loss of our furry black berry-eating friends.
So the moral of the story is, if you are a kid, and don't know
enough to be afraid of a bear, and you're eager to share your blueberries
with the big black fuzzy things, they really are rather comical and
gentle creatures that truly love blueberries!!! We all knew that my dad
was dead wrong when he told us we were lucky that the bears didn't kill
us. Experience was our teacher. And when you're "just a kid" you just
don't tell your dad that he's dead wrong when you realize that he's afraid
of something you came to call your friend.
Well, this story got too damn long. I've
never actually written it down. It's usually a campfire and wine story.
So since it got too long, I'll save the other great bear story for another
time. It's just too damn funny!!! the outcome of it is there is a cookie
that used to be called chocolate peanut butter oatmeal drops. Now they're
commonly referred to as "bear cookies". I'll save that story for lunch
some summer paddling day.
Later,
Myrph
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I have the distinct honor of belonging to a group
which is presently working with the wonderful folks at the New York State DEC.
This group is a panel which is one of several helping to decide the fate of the
American Black Bear as they work their way into New York's Southern Tier. While
many of us believe that Mother Nature had a pretty good idea as to what she was
doing when she populated the Earth with all of its species, there are those
among us, driven by fear, who's motto is--"The Only Good Bear is a Dead Bear".
I'd hoped to begin working on this project in full force but suddenly have
found that we're under attack from the Mineral folks. So, the bear page will move a
bit more slowly but with ever-increasing dedication to helping our neighbors,
friends and children to learn more about one of our most valuable, misunderstood
and most gentle resources, the American Black Bear. Forget all that
you've been taught or the rumors that you've heard about man-eating bears
breaking into your home and stealing your children as you sleep. While it makes
for great press, it's not founded in fact.
I'd ask that you begin here by clicking on this "savage beast" and keep
checking in as we grow and spend more time gathering FACTS about this wonderful
neighbor.
We need
your help before the "Kill the Bears" contingent continues to march ahead with
their plans to do just that. They also want all of the coyotes and any other
animal that happens to fall into their sights to be taken out as well.
Photo by Bill Lea....click on the pic to
visit American Bears
I sometimes wonder if it's something in our water supply or if "civilized
man" can actually be as ignorant as we seem. :^>)
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