Chasing Bears

May 23, 2007
This is a late post. I was advised to post this to my blog many moons ago after sharing the story with family, but I'm just getting around to it. What is that word that plagues humanity, procrast........?

Hmm, it's all quiet right now. There was some excitement earlier here at the Riley Farm, though.

I am standing my first overnight watch, from midnight - 8:00 a.m. It is now 4:30 a.m. as I write. When I first came on watch and did my first round with the dude I was relieving, we came across a cinnamon-colored bear that had approached much too close to the tent that elementary-age school boys are staying in. When a bear is spotted, the protocol is to try and chase it off the farm, and usually this can easily be done by throwing rocks in its direction (without hitting the bear, of course) while informing the bear in your utmostest polite voice that it is not welcome on the farm. This young cinnamon bear that was spotted turned around when rocks were thrown, but rather than high-tailed it out of here it went straight up a tree. We continued to throw rocks into the tree until the bear came back down - only to head straight up a second tree. This just wasn't going in our favor! Suddenly Logan (the dude I was relieving) came up with a brilliant idea. He hooked up a firehose to one of the several fire main connections on the farm and then gave the bear its annual bath. The bear did not like taking this bath now, and I didn't blame it. Heck, summer hasn't even begun yet, much less is the summer season over. The bear did finally come down out of the tree and split out of the area.

About an hour after the cinnamon bear sighting, there was another bear but it had not crossed the road yet to enter the premises. All we saw were two beady- blue eyes shining in our flashlights, and then with a rock thrown the bear was out of our sight.

There was yet one more bear, this one a dark black one. I was sitting in the office when one of the farm dogs started barking. This bear had made it across the road and onto the farm, but the dog had the bear stopped. When I came out with my ultra-mean, vicious falshlight, the bear decided it had enough and went back into the woods on the far side of the street.

It is anticipated that the bears will not be back until about an hour before sunrise. So now here I sit, in a little office with a heater going, watching the second hand slowly sweep around the clock on the wall.