I am a "Bear Enthusiast."

I remember years ago when I first flipped to that on cable and came into it in the middle. Within about five seconds I was thinking "this guy is crazy as fuck and is going to get eaten real soon; hope nobody gets eaten with him". I was disappointed in the latter sentiment. The stupid motherfucker basically murdered his girlfriend. I hope he rots in some form of hell somewhere.

 

WARNING: Photograph of a wantonly killed animal in the wild.


Instead of shooting the poor animal, might a feather duster work? Ticklish?

 

A fool he was to be sure. Just a matter of time. No weapon, not even a .44 magnum hand gun? No spray? I seem to remember hearing about this but I never followed him or his escapades as some of you have. I have been hunting and shooting since 1958, some in Canada, years ago, but mostly here in the hardwoods and pine forests and fields of Pennsylvania. Even when I have just hiked the Appalachian Trail, I always carried at least a .357 magnum hand gun but usually a .44 magnum Marlin lever action slung over my shoulder. You never know, especially in the spring or if a mother black bear has cubs around. I always go armed, even for the two legged varmints that you may run across, if you know what I mean. There was a guy in New Jersey who was out with a camera and snapped a picture of a black bear a few years ago. The bear took offense and killed him.

 

Here is an old photo of me and a buddy in Canada, northern Quebec, back around 1969. I am holding a Winchester Model 94, .32 Winchester Special, but I did not shoot this rather small bear. The photo was taken on the property of an old French Canadian trapper, who lived along a lake in the middle of nowhere. He startled us awake in our trailer one night and introduced himself in broken English and said that he would like some company in his cabin down by the lake. He seemed friendly so we went with him. I will never forget the moonshine liquor he gave us and the walls of his cabin plastered with Playboy centerfolds. He had two Siberian Huskies and said that he was a so called " game warden" for that neck of the woods. He was interesting to talk to.

 

The only encounter I ever had with a really large and potentially hostile wild animal occurred in Australia. I was in Canberra at the time, researching material at the War Memorial for a book which when completed and published "fell dead from the presses" as David Hume put it. Australians tend to regard Canberra as something of a joke and it has to be one of the world's stranger national capitals, but the best thing about it is that it's far enough inland to have lots of native wildlife. Much of the city is parkland, and the parks in Canberra are really just huge patches of bush, unimproved except for a few trails. I used to jog in the parks a lot, and as consequence I got into the best shape I'd been in since high school. I saw lots of kangaroos every day while I was doing this, especially on the big 900-meter hill behind the Memorial. They would come down from the top of the hill to feed on the more open lower slopes during the morning and early evening. The females and young ones were fine to deal with; a little skittish when I was around, but harmless. The bigger males were a very different story, as I learned one day. I was jogging along paying more attention to the ground on the path than to anything else (I was paranoid about stepping on the snakes and spiders) when I rounded a corner, looked up, and saw a large male standing in the middle of the path in front of me perhaps twenty yards away, surrounded by what I assume was his harem. I stopped, which was a good thing. He glared at me like Travis Bickle, sending out waves of hostility. I at once understood the meaning of the concept "critical distance." I also remembered all the stories I'd heard about what big males could do to one another and to people too when they were in a bad mood. I could practically hear him say, "so, you want this trail, eh mate?" He was obviously not going to move, so I simply turned around and went back the way I had come. Only later did I learn that I should have backed away from him sideways--I think it was sideways. Anyway, I counted myself fortunate.

 

I spent 17 wasted years in Canberra...it's actually called 'the bush capital' designed so that when sitting on one of the local mountains Canberra actually disappears under the trees...large tracts of the bush cuts all the way up to Parliament House...and so all the wildlife comes in too...
Sideways so that the roo can't open you up with a kick. But id say just slowly move away...I've seen them fight many times in the car parks in Canberra...a young kid was hospitalised last week because he didn't show a male roo proper respect. Male Roos are called Boomers. The bigger ones fight for the right to sire a 'harem'. And the Roos you are referring to are Eastern greys...much smaller than the red kangaroos here in the territory...two reds stand either side of the Northern Territory coat of arms, protecing the shield....who's gunna argue? : ) and on the top of the Sheild stands a wedge tail Eagle...native to the Territory and one of the biggest birds of prey in the world...

 

I did see a male red in a nature park near Canberra. He was the biggest damn thing I have ever seen on two legs, and one of the surliest. An idiot Chinese kid got dangerously close to him, and I was afraid that we were about to see the red rip him open. Would have served the fool right.

 

I can tell you from experience that getting mauled by a bear will make you popular among the more rustic crowd, who will buy you beers and shots to hear the story. I don't think a kangaroo mauling would have the same effect among Ozzie rednecks, but I could be wrong.

 

In my limited experience, I don't think Ozzie rednecks (who are sometimes called "ockers") need an excuse to treat you to drinks. Australians are pretty friendly and generous, which is one of the big reasons why I like Australia

 

Oooh...slight miscalculation....an ''Ocker' is a quintisenntial Australian...very Australian...think Steve Erwin....the words one is looing for are 'Yobbo' or Bogan or just dickhed...to,describe a red neck. And there's proababky more in the city...country folk in Australia are tough but gentle. Mostly.... : ) depends on which state....Queensland are probably a bunch of 'red necks'....New South Welshmen are better educated and have more self pride....but I digress...

 

If I erred, it was not intentionally. I thought I had read Ocker used in the sense I meant, but perhaps I misread. My general impression of Australians was highly favorable, I found it very easy to make friends. I'd love to get back there sometime.

 

No offence taken mate....ockers not a word used much anymore...a dieing breed... : (

 

"Red neck" has a number of very different connotations depending on where you are in the US. Ranges from derogatory to complimentary (if a bit back handed).

 

Bear fan here! before long these things will b escorted by X-wing rebel fighters.

 

There has been a debate going on in my neighborhood as to what the biggest pest is. The bears or the raccoons. I wouldn't want to wrestle with either one.

 

better than baltimore

 

I'm a life long Orioles fan. Fine city. Maybe you've been there?

When Cal Sr was coaching the Rochester Red Wings they lived two streets away. My little brother got to play sandlot baseball with Cal Jr. The Iron Man of Baseball. Thanks for the memories.

 

sorry. off topic

 

Has anyone mentioned Timothy Treadwell ? He loved bears and they loved him too. In a way. I've been hooked on watching the bears feasting on salmon at Brooks Falls.

 

Yeah, he's been 'mentioned.' Also derided, insulted, scorned, impugned and verbally abused. See earlier comments.

.