Storytelling

In the days that followed my butchering experience, I told the story to a number of people. Family, friends, folks who stopped in to the store...no one was spared the details. Since it was such a new experience for me, I just wanted to share it. Seeing the reactions of my listeners was a delight. For the most part, the women were, I would say, impressed. If that type of thing didn't bother them, they were even enthusiastic about it. The men, on the other hand...well, I don't even know a phrase for being Really Impressed.

One friend stopped in by chance the day after. I was busy trying to set up fencing for the chickens that I had recently acquired. When he heard I had birds, he said he couldn't wait to go home and tell his wife. I asked if he wanted to see them. We got to the henhouse, and when I opened the door, he saw the bear head on the floor. He asked where it had come from, and I told him that I had butchered it yesterday. (I had temporarily stowed it in the bottom of the coop, so that I could prepare a wire cage and put it deep into the backwoods.) I told him about my experience, and he said he really couldn't wait to go home now to tell his wife. "Wait til I tell her! Greg's got quite a woman there! Wait til I tell her!" I just laughed to myself. Wasn't I doing what every person does? You do what you have to do.

Other fellows who stopped in to browse heard my story. They, too, were duly impressed by it. I didn't think it was that big of a deal, but evidently it was. In the end, it even got me an invitation to elk hunting camp in Montana, with friends, later in the fall. My one concern now, though, is that if we get a call on another rogue bear, Greg will turn to me and say, "Why don't you take care of it?" Sometimes there's danger in knowing too much.

Now I have a nice, clean, white bear skull to hang somewhere. I also have the claws, and someday hope to do some beading with them. We have some roasts in the freezer. And I'm hoping that this year's crop of bears are out there having a good life, finding berries, plants and anything else that makes them full and happy.

The Bear Story Part Two

Last summer, I was wearing several hats, as Greg had taken a full-time job outside of the resort. Each day, he left at 7:30 a.m. and he took Paul with him. That meant that anything that took place on my watch had to be taken care of by me, knowledge or experience notwithstanding. It was a crazy learning event for me, as I saw how much I'd taken for granted when I always had the guys around to take care of the outside stuff. Fortunately, they were home on weekends, so if possible, I would save certain jobs for those two days.

It is not unusual for us to get a call from someone who is having problems with a nuisance bear. That is because if they get permission from the DNR to dispatch the bear, we are willing to salvage the meat from the animal. We all try hard to use this as a last resort. We much prefer to see the bears do what they are intended to do---hang out in the woods, find their sustenance, have new little bears. Looking at the studies of Lily the Bear in Ely this year, it's easy to see that many people enjoy bears. I've heard that she has an incredible following on her Facebook page, to the tune of over 98,000 followers. Her webcam was a huge hit this winter. Pretty impressive stuff. We like bears. But if the bears become too habituated to people, they can be dangerous. If this happens, sometimes they need to go.

We got one of those calls on a Saturday morning in mid-June 2009. Our neighbor had a rogue bear that had become so comfortable around their place, he totally ignored all people, and made some pretty bold moves in broad daylight. They had called it in, and were granted permission. When we heard about it, I prayed all weekend that the bear would die before Sunday night. No such luck.

Early on Monday, just after everyone had left for work, I got the call that "Yogi" had just eaten his last breakfast. Could I please come down and pick him up? Now mind you, I have assisted many a time on the care and butchering of a dead animal...but I had never done it all by myself. I tried hard not to start hyperventilating (though I felt like it) and I said that I would be down shortly. Before panic set in, I attempted to reach Greg, in order to have a quick phone tutorial on what to do. I jotted down some instructions, loaded some water jugs in to the truck, and headed out.

With help, the bear got loaded into the back of the truck. He was just a little guy, and we felt bad that he had learned his habits so young. We knew that he would not have stopped looking for easy meals, at the local resorts, cabins, campgrounds, wherever people are. At some point, he could have become a real danger. Instead, he met his fate....and so did I. I got him back home, and found a couple of really sharp knives. Since I have a degree in biology from a lot of years ago, I had experience in dissecting animals. It has never made me squeamish, and that is good. So for me, at this point, it felt somewhat clinical, but nonetheless a bit intimidating. Since the day was hot, I knew that I couldn't put it off, so I just dug right in.

Greg had told me that in the summer, it is best not to gut the bear, as it makes a very stinky mess. He said to cut back the hide, and peel it away from the muscle and bone, exposing the four legs, and the spine. That is what I started to do. Methodically, I made my cuts, and peeled back, while swatting away the flies and mosquitoes. I paused a time or two, to catch my breath or answer the phone. Mostly, I just kept at it, and after a couple of hours, I had two hind quarters and two front quarters washed, wrapped, and safely stowed in the refrigerator. The butchering of it, into manageable size pieces, would come later. I next located the backstraps, and carefully cut those away from the spine. As for the tenderloins....well, as tasty and tender as they might have been, I didn't attempt to retrieve them. Greg says that it is possible to get them from the back side, by reaching inside, and using a knife to loosen and cut them free. But since I had my orders not to puncture the gut cavity, I felt it was too risky. Why push my luck when things were going so well?

By this time, Addie was home from work, so she took a moment to snap a photo of me, and I gave her a quick anatomy lesson on things visible still within the bear.
The job wasn't over yet, as I still had to take care of the remains. I washed up and got everything secured in the truck, and then drove off to find a remote area to dump the carcass. I had been telling people that a lot of the days at the resort, I would find myself pretending to be Greg, when I was attempting to figure out a solution to new challenges. That day, I felt like I was Greg, driving down an old road, bumping along in the truck, mission nearly accomplished. I got the deed done, and soon was back home to do the final job of the moment, clean-up. I scrubbed the back of the truck like I clean in cabins, since I didn't want the smell around to attract any other critters. Finished, I have to say that I felt a bit of a sense of accomplishment, having achieved a job I never dreamed that I would be doing when I signed on to be a resort wife.

A Bear Story

Often on my blog, I talk about seasons. Not just the usual four, mind you. I've mentioned the fifth one in these parts, known as mud season. I have probably talked too much about firewood season. I know, of course, that these are not seasons by the true definition, but it is an easy way to mark things that are regular events that tend to occur at roughly the same time each year. Something that can happen at this time is that the bears can become a nuisance while they search for early-season food. Berries are not yet ripe, and there are only so many grubs a large bruin can find and consume. Though we have only had one weekend so far that a bear has been around, we are always cognizant of them, and try to act accordingly. No leaving coolers outside, and garbage needs to be safely stowed in the shed. Last year about this time, we had a young bear who totally ignored the bear rules, that call for staying away from people, and here is his story:

We knew that a rogue bear had been hanging around. I had seen it walk through our property one evening about nine p.m. I grabbed my camera and went out to follow it. It walked nonchalantly to the bread oven, sauntered over towards the garbage shed, and then began to make its way up the path to where Moses lived. I followed about twenty-some paces behind, ready with my camera. The bear knew that I was back there, because at one point, he turned around and looked at me. His pace remained the same, though, so I figured he was too young to be scared.

As he headed up the path towards the donkey yard, I said out loud, "You really don't want to go up there." I was remembering the treatment of a different little bear, the year before, who inadvertently found himself in the pasture. I heard that commotion, and got up there in time to see Moses and Jethro chasing the poor little thing, full bore, as the black ball of fur kept hurtling itself at the fence. It finally made it over, and then just sat stunned and dazed for a moment. I'd feel that way, too, I'm sure with two large donkeys in pursuit of me.

Thus, I felt it best to warn the current little guy of the danger. He must have taken me seriously, because a moment later, he found a good spot to divert off the trail, and chose to climb the nearest tree. It happened to be a dead cedar with just a few broken branches left. Still, it offered protection. I snapped a few photos, and then continued on up the hill to check on Moses.

Sure enough, Moses knew that someone new was in the neighborhood, and he wasn't happy. He stood at full attention by the gate, ears pointing high to catch every last sound wave. Donkeys have an advantage like that. I went in to the pasture, and talked softly to him. While doing so, I could hear the bear climbing down from its perch, and so Moses and I got a fresh glimpse of him as he made his way up into the hills behind our sign. That was the last we saw of him that night, but not for long. (Stay tuned....More tomorrow.)

Eagle Entertainment

Lately we've been fortunate to have some great eagle activity in these parts. On Sunday afternoon, we saw this one sitting in a spruce tree on the shore in front of the lodge. Greg was outside, and he whispered through the kitchen window to alert me . I grabbed my camera and headed upstairs, since our bedroom window is conveniently at about eye-level to the treetop. I took a few shots through the glass, and then decided to quietly remove the screen. It seemed as though the eagle knew we were there (Greg had joined me), but it didn't seem to be bothered by our actions.

It was a grey and cloudy day, so the pictures didn't end up to be very colorful. Still, it was quite a treat to be able to shoot these, and to see this fine bird from such a great vantage point. I knew that if I waited long enough, some sort of action would take place. Sure enough, it decided to take off, and I snapped the next two photos.

We weren't the only ones to see an eagle. Our guests Mark and Renee were hiking on the South Rim trail, and they were able to see an eagle's nest from above. What a neat sight that would be! They said the adult left the nest and was soaring about. They didn't mention if there were any eggs or eaglets in view.

Finally, the raven neighbors had an eagle come into their territory, and they made short order of chasing it away. We were down by the beach, and I heard the familiar calls. We looked up in time to see the eagle gracefully winging its way east, with two ravens in hot pursuit. The ravens' wings were beating rapidly in contrast to the long measures of the eagle. Generally the ravens seem to be large birds on their own, but it is all relative when the bigger guy comes along.