MORRIS COUNTY — Quite a few bear sightings have recently been in and around the local township area. Concurrently, the township has more than doubled in population. Most of these newcomers hail from NYC and other urban areas. Many lack familiarity with the natural world and, as a result, exhibit an irrational fear of any critters, be they bugs, birds, raccoons, and, of course, bears. On our township website, people post incidents of various animals being seen. Their fears are usually expressed by comments such as: “Call the Police immediately,” or “Beware, it’s known to be rabid,” or “I got the fright of my life…!”
Comments about bear sightings will normally solicit an unusual number of responses, which, in turn, pushed the recall button in my brain that unearthed the following scrap of memory:
“When in Eagle River, Alaska, a while ago, I, with two friends, Raissa The Brave and Lorissa The Agreeable, decided to walk down a precarious pathway to visit a small but beautiful chapel in the woods designed by a noted architect. We were quite surprised by coming across bear poop that was still steaming from its owner’s bodily warmth in the crisp, cool morning air. I, the newly appointed bear poop specialist, immediately recognized which species of animal welcomed us visitors to its realm.
Unfortunately, this was an: “Uh oh” moment because, at this time, we were at the point of no return. In other words, it would take the same amount of time to return to home base as to the safety of an open-air chapel-in-the-round. What to do?! I pondered that thought for a brief moment. “After all,” said I with the authority of a newly appointed poop specialist, “if the poop is still steaming, that means its depositor is still nearby.” In a flash, Raissa The Brave reached down and took up a large, quite heavy, thick stick about four feet in length that happened to be lying at her feet and said quite loudly and with abject authority: “I’m not going back. I want to see this chapel, and no bear poop is going to stop me.
With two friends, Raissa the Brave and Lorissa the Agreeable, she decided to “With that, she raised the stick up over her head and shook it as if to threaten any bear out there that this was war and she would be the ultimate victor come hell or high water. Our other companion in adventures, Lorissa the Agreeable, said, “OK, I’m game. Let’s keep on trucking: Chapel! Here we come!”
I, being the plucked chicken of our small group whimpered softly: “But what if…?” I had no choice as I didn’t want to retreat to home base alone. After all, there’s strength in numbers.
With two friends, Raissa the Brave and Lorissa the Agreeable, she decided to “With that, she raised the stick over her head and shook it as if to threaten any bear out there that this was war and she would be the ultimate victor come hell or high water. Our other adventure companion, Lorissa the Agreeable, said; the three of us then proceeded to continue our tour up, down, and around small mounds and more significant hills, stepping gingerly over rocks, stones, and branches through the mud-laden pathway toward the chapel. Eventually, we made it there and back without incident.
The other two were unscathed by the strange excremental cool-down encounter and, given the unending stream of chit-chat between them, most likely forgot all about it by this time. On the other hand, I headed for the nearest watering hole and ordered a double, followed by another. As I raised my glass to the barkeep, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a sob or two, said, ‘Never again! Never again! OMG, Never again!’”
(Based on an actual incident. Its accuracy is without question. Raissa, Lorissa, and I were at Eagle River, and yes, we decided to take a walk to the chapel in the woods, and yes, we came across bear poop that was still steaming. Raissa picked up a large stick, and we proceeded without incident. “Those are the facts, ma’am, just the facts.”)
Hanover resident Sonia S. Kraftician submitted this article.
