It's Bear-y Time!

Oh wait!

Hot. July.

Berry Briers.

Sweat.

Pokey things.

When I was a little kid and I probably wrote about this before...my mom and Grandma Pearl would get us up on a god awful hot humid and sticky morning.

We'd walk or mom would drive us in the 1965 station wagon to some deep dark woods.

We'd get sprayed with OFF and have to wear long pants, long sleeve shirts, and bandanas over our heads to ward off the horrid deer flies and skeeters...to

pick 

blackcaps.

I think my brother detested these excursions.

I don't know if I disliked them as much as he did. We were given pint paint cans with twine string to use as straps across our shoulders so we could pick with both hands.

We were expected to fill our pints before it got too hot.

I think we worked mostly in silence except for the buzzing of monstrous mosquitoes and deer flies.

At some point in time on one of these trips, I recall having to leave before we filled our pints. Grandma tapped me on the shoulder and pointed.

There was a bear not far off looking at us. Grandma just had us turn slowly and walk away.

At the time I thought it was a pretty cool thing. I'm not sure Grandma did.

So fast forward to 2020. 

There is a patch on my neighbor's land that used to have yellow raspberries, or as my Grandfather called them Golden Raspberries.

Rich and I found them in 2008 and filled a 5 gallon bucket with them. We filled another bucket with blackcaps that year. Back then we could actually drive his truck into the area and pick to our delight.

We came back a third day to pick and found the area decimated. It looked as though a tornado had gone through the patches.

Later on we found out that a wandering bear had come through.

Well I went on Saturday afternoon. To tell you the truth, I like just wandering around the forest and picking berries, or searching for morels. It sort of gives me a purpose to gather food while aimlessly wandering.

So I set out to seek out the yellow raspberries. I hadn't been there in quite a few years so I was curious to see if they were still around. I picked my way down our ridge road and then crossed the fence to the neighbor's untended land.

It was hot  and I knew that I'd be walking through tall grasses so I left Charlie at home. I was really surprise at the amount of wild parsnip that had overgrown the old pastures. Enough so that I had to walk carefully while following a faint trail. I kept thinking to myself ... make yourself tiny!

I was delighted to find my effort rewarded me with some nice patches of blackcaps. I picked and dropped the berries into the ice cream pail with a hole cut in the lid. I had an old leash attached to the handle of the bucket to toss over my shoulders. Not much had changed since I was a little kid. Though instead of going before dawn, I was going midday.

There's a spot where an old oak used to stand over the pasture. It has since crumbled and fallen yet it is like an island of shade. I followed the trails around the edge of it, stepping into the shade to cool off once in a while.

I thought to myself that if I were a kid, this would be the spot that I'd make a fort!

Then I found the spot. After many years, it was overgrown but still there!

I was delighted!

I put my stick down and started to pick.

I heard the UTV's revving up in the valley below and thought to myself that they were loud enough to wake the dead. 

While picking, I'm always aware of my surroundings. Well, I try to be. I looked up as I stepped back out of the bramble.

What?

A black fuzzy pony? No. Wait.

A calf?

No, no cattle in this area any more.

Wait. That.

A black bear Butt!

It trotted off.

At first I thought I had been seeing things. So I followed the trail looking for tracks. I found bear scat.

Hello Bear!

I decided I'd probably picked enough and headed in the opposite direction.

I found more bear scat. I found a patch where the bear had been picking berries too.

Well then.

The Bear could have his patch. 

I walked back [making myself thin as a rail] through the parsnip and golden rod to the snowmobile trail and headed home.

Maybe I'll stick to our woods with the company of the Brat Pack.