Bearly There

I fancy myself a well-rounded gal. Admittedly, I don't know everything, I don't even know a lot. But I know a little about a variety of topics: My mind is a collection of useless information.

After my latest trip to the cabin it became clear I need to brush up on Bearology--more specifically: What does bear poop look like and is that pile next to the steps at the cabin one of their samples? What do I do if I'm one with nature and the bear rears his presence? And most importantly, how do I get a good photograph of this couple hundred pound critter so my little cousin doesn't doubt my encounter?*

But this I know: Bears are clever beasts and can break into the Private Dumpy without destroying the structure. Bears are not nearly as fond of Old Dutch BBQ Mesquite Kettle Chips as we are, but prefer them to Doritos. Bears have no time for vegetables past their prime, but are curious about boxed wine.... I never did find the bag housed inside.

I learned something about the neighbors, too. Not everyone saves the Box Tops for Education or the Kemps milk caps for the kids. Not everyone recycles their plastic & glass. And not everyone burns their paper plates in the fire, though they do use them to leave one another brief messages. I have no way of knowing whose garbage is whose, although I was curious enough about the paper plate jottings--they must need a new notepad at the Ryans' cabin.

In a twist of irony, I went up to the dumpy to resurrect its existence in my Grand Rapids, Minnesota t-shirt with a weathered black bear proudly printed on the front. I'll never look at this T quite the same again.

We anxiously awaited the bear's return the following night. Gary, our watch-dog next door, opened the door to the Private Dumpy not as an invitation, but more as a proactive I-don't-want-to-repair-these-doors gesture. Shawn, Abby, Lauren and I sat around the fire after we finished roasting our hot dogs & stayed out until dusk. Nothing.

Curious to see if the bear got into the trash I took the girls on a bear hunt. We jumped into Granny (my beloved, bear-proof wheels) & headed for the dumpy. Nada.

I've no doubt this isn't the last of the bear at the cabin. As for the girls, it was our first & last encounter. For this trip at least.

{And by 'Private' We Mean: No Bears!}

{Bearly There}

{A Message to Bear}

{A Happy Dumpy}

*I have several shots of the bear. I think they are shots of the bear. Until I can get the pictures on to my computer where I can adjust the exposure the above pictures are the only proof I can offer.