So after yesterday’s run-in with the moose, Kevin prudently decided to invest in some professional-grade bear spray. He also bought a bear bell, which is just an oversized jingle bell that you attach to yourself while hiking. It is supposed to let the bears know that you are coming so that you don’t startle them and, you know, get mauled.
At the trailhead for Leigh Lake, Kevin gave me the bell and told me to tie it to my shoe (supposedly it makes the most noise that way – I can vouch for this). I did as requested, and for the next 20 minutes I slowly descended into madness as I heard an unnervingly loud jangle with each footstep. Unable to take it any more, I stopped short, untied the bell, and handed it to Kevin with a gruff, “Here, you wear it.”
I thought I would be free of the jingling, but I had another thing coming. I was hiking in the lead, and the rest of the way along the trail was like something out of Edgar Allan Poe. I sped up – the bell sped up right along with me. I slowed down – and I could hear its relentless ting-a-ling-a-ling coming ever closer. I couldn’t hear myself think; let alone hear any of the relaxing forest sounds usually associated with a hike in the woods – no soft brush of the wind through the pines, no lapping of waves on the lakeshore, no birds chirping. Just the jingling. Forevermore.
When the time came for us to turn back for the van, I let Kevin lead. Trying to avoid a “The Shining” moment, I purposefully dawdled behind…emptying imaginary rocks from my shoe and taking out of focus photos…anything to let him get out of earshot so that the maddening roar would dull to a faint tinkle. Honestly, I’m not sure how these bells can actually function as bear deterrents – I wouldn’t be surprised to see some irate bear come crashing through the woods just to take a swat at you out of sheer annoyance.
At any rate, the thing worked. At no point on the hike were we attacked by bears, trampled by moose, or pecked at by deadly ravens. In fact, in six miles we didn’t see a shred of wildlife – not a marmot, not a squirrel, not even a chipmunk! We saw plenty of butterflies, but I’m certain that’s simply because butterflies don’t have ears.
But once we were back at the van and the bear bell was safely stowed in a sock drawer, we saw plenty of wildlife. An antelope playing in the field, a mule deer grazing near our campsite – all of Creation came out to enjoy the blessed silence.
Over dinner (delicious bison cheeseburgers), we had a discussion about the vile bear bell and whether or not we should continue to use it. We came to what I like to call “a philosophical difference of opinion” on the matter. So stay tuned. There may be more bear bell in our future.
When we are being mauled by a pack of blood-thirsty bears, I want you to listen carefully between the screams so you can hear me saying "I told you so".
ReplyDeleteI don't think you have to be constantly jingling it. Michael's sister lives in Alaska and she just carries a bell and shakes it every once in awhile. There must be a compromise - I would have gone mad! You can just walk heavily and talk every once in awhile too. Good luck with that debate!
ReplyDeleteSo far our compromise has been to carry the bell with us inside the backpack, have the bear spray readily accessible, and occasionally clap really loudly when we can't see the trail ahead of us. No maulings using this system, so far.
ReplyDeleteBahahahahahahaaaa... My sides ache! Too funny.
ReplyDelete~Jess