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Close Call with Grizzley – Man Saved by His Pistol
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See, this is not funny. This is the sort of braggadocio spouted by fellas who are, in fact, craven pissants, much too immature to have access to firearms, and who inspire all that gun regulation which pains you so.
It’s a loop, you see?
I’m afraid I’d just piss off a bear with a pistol, so I hike with a fat or old or lame person.
Libby, what are you doing this weekend?
I faced down a 300 pound black bear named Stanley up at Lassen – he came into our camp at Warner Valley just as we were putting away our cook pots and stuff, getting ready for bed. We had put our two year old in the tent, and here came Stanley, positioning himself between me and that tent.
I cited the “Stand Your Ground” laws and told him to get the hell out of my campsite. My husband was holding a box full of stuff, and lobbed a can of propane at the bear. It just rolled off his giant ass and tumbled into the bushes. The bear thought it was food and ambled along after it. Our girlfriend was frozen stiff by the fireside, so her boyfriend walked over and picked up the paddle of our canoe, and started banging on the side of the canoe, yelling “getouttahere!” But Stanley came back, and started sniffing the bottom of the tent. I went nuts, Babeee! I walked up to that mutha and I called him some choice names, and I told him again to GET OUT! I get so mad sometimes, I just don’t have any sense. He wheeled around to size me up. Luckily, by this time, my husband had grabbed a pot and spoon and our friends had opened the car. Simultaneously they started flashing the car lights, honking,and my husband rushed up banging that pan. Stanley took off, and we noticed, his whole side was red, like blood. We didn’t know what to make of that. Our girlfriend wanted to go to town for the night, but we had stayed in motels in Chester before, and we were happy to take our chances in the boonies. We calmed her down and spent the rest of the night in peace.
the next morning, the “rangers” came along – a couple of 55-ish women schoolteachers who spent their summers hosting the camp. They were both packing .44’s right on their hips. We told them about the bear – “oh, damn that Stanley, he’s become such a nuisance, we’ve relocated him, now we might have to put him down!” The red stuff, they explained, was spray paint that he had got from a trap they’d set. Then they told us, we were STUPID to come out in that neck of the woods without a gun. When they saw our two year old, they used the word “irresponsible”. We were never dumb again.
But Libby, you’re right, always be responsible. My kids have both been to safety training classes, and my husband and I sat right alongside them and helped them study for the test – you might take a look at the book sometime – think you could pass the course?
I’m taking a little coffee break between chores, waiting for Sean to come back with his plan of action to stop Cal Water from ripping us off. Maybe I could give him a few tips in fending off a snoopy, greedy bear.
Even the most progressive of liberals have their moments of …
I knew it was gunfire. Some years now, when I’m out gardening, I hear lots of gunfire, and it turns out (takes me forever to get round to anything) I live downwind the of Richmond Rod & Gun Club.
And I’m going: “I could learn to shoot.” But my researches indicate that the old farts over there would not be pleased to deal with an old lady novice. I’d have to go over to Chabot, but it’s so far, and so expensive, and I don’t really need to learn to shoot. I can take my chances with the pots.
I saw some kind of big wild cat in Lassen once, but we were very respectful of each other’s territory.
When I lived up there, I never got over to the east, Black Butte Lake. What’s it like over that way?
Evidently Libby would prefer a John Wayne to sacrifice his life to the bear in order to save her. No joke.
This begs the question, would any man, knowing Libby, actually sacrifice his life using a small caliber pistol to fend of a marauding bear in order to save her?
Sometimes a controlled retreat is the better part of valor.
Ultimately is a matter judgment (in a few split seconds). Where would YOU (the men and women who read this blog) go when it comes to Libby. 😀
A joke is a joke. Even a bad one can give a chuckle. Why read into it anything other than that?
John Wayne? Guys live in fairy land.
In split seconds, there is no shooting and there is no running neither. If the pots don’t do it, you hit the ground and hope you smell too nasty to eat.
Furthermore, no person of honor pitches her companion into the maw to save herself.
Libby, it was a joke. Nobody shot anybody and there was no bear. Geeez.
And I repeat, it was not funny.
Bears need to eat too.
Then let ’em eat you.
Libby, if I promise that I will never let a grizzly bear eat you, can we move on?