Dear Grandkids – Here’s another story:
Bear Story 3: or I Should Never Have Gotten in the VW Bug with Those Nameless Girls. (Part One)
You will remember that in story 2, two nameless girls, Goldman and I narrowly escaped from the great bear invasion of the summer of 1970. (You should try to find the newspaper coverage. Google ‘strange but true events that happened to Grandpa before he met Grandma.’) The real truth is, I rescued those girls and Goldman but was too modest to say so in story 2. Of course, Goldman would have helped if only he was wearing pants.
That morning, after the bears left, I had to decide whether to get back on my bicycle and carry on for the west coast or to stick around. It was a beautiful campground and the park rangers hadn’t kicked me out, so I decided to stay one more night. Besides, I didn’t know where the bears went. For example, if they were heading for the west coast as well, would I bump into them along the way? And is a five speed bicycle faster than a four legged bear? (There are no three or five legged bears, by the way). I did know that a five speed is faster than a pack of coyotes, something I discovered back when I was on my way through the prairies.
So, having decided to stay one more night, I actually pitched my tent at a campsite because I deduced that the picnic shelter was actually a bear club house in disguise. But, what to do with my day, I wondered. That was when the two girls with no names came up with an idea. “We’re going to take a drive to Banff. Want to come along?” One of them winked at me.
Interesting side note - Today, Banff is a tourist town. Back then, it was home to ten million hippies. I was not a hippie. Even though some people accused me of that. Okay, I had long hair and a scruffy beard. But, I wasn’t wearing bell-bottomed jeans. Or love beads either. (I lost them when I fell down a cliff earlier that week.)
Back to the story… “What about Goldman?” I said.
“We’d ask him,” they said. “But what if he didn’t wear pants?” One of the girls made a gagging noise. It was hard to question their reasoning. Besides I believe they thought I was cute whereas Goldman had that bad habit of his – you know, not wearing pants. Anyhow, I climbed into the backseat of their VW beetle (aka VW Bug.)
Another interesting side note - Back home in Windsor, your Great Uncle Ian and I had a red VW Bug and a black one just in case the red one wasn’t working. (Ask Grandma about why it was a good idea to wear Wellingtons in the passenger seat of the red one, especially when it was raining.)
Back to the story - The day was sunny and the mountains were brown and green and mauve and blue with snow caps. They were beautiful. And the day started out beautifully too. Cruising along the Trans Canada. But then, up ahead one of the girls with no name spied a traffic jam.
“What’s wrong?” asked the other girl with no name.
“I don’t like the looks of this,” said the first girl with no name. She was the one who winked at me, earlier that morning.
We came to a stop at the end of a long line-up of cars. I got out, even though it’s a struggle getting out of the back seat of a VW Bug when the front seats are occupied. The first girl with no name helped by giving me a push. I think she pinched me too. But I can’t be sure. This was almost 50 years ago.
I walked ahead a ways and soon learned what the hold-up was. A bear was in the middle of the road. Just standing there, defying the world. The world-defying bear started walking toward me. I thought, ‘Oh no, is this what my life is going to be like from now on? Bears bumping into me, day and day out, until I’m an old man?’ As you may know, that is not how my life turned out. Other than, I am an old man.
Even though early that morning, I scared away the bear that came into the picnic shelter, I wasn’t sure I could pull off such a feat a second time. So I retreated to the car. And I squeezed into the back again. This time, I was sure the first girl with no name pinched me.
“Turn the car around,” I said.
The first girl with no name looked over her shoulder. “We’re stuck here. Everybody’s stuck.” Then she winked at me.
The bear was still coming. And his brothers and sisters and maybe his first and second cousins had joined him. It was like a whole army of bears. And they were coming straight for us. The captain of the bears, the first one I saw, was now at the front bumper. He slowed down. He spotted me. I would have crouched down but it was too late.
I learned then that some bears are bullies. Out of all the cars and trucks in the traffic jam, this bear decided to pick on our VW Bug. It’s so little. Not much bigger than the bear himself. This bear (I’ll call him ‘Bruno.’) stood on his back legs (not that I’ve ever seen a bear do a hand stand) and plunked his front paws on the roof. The little Bug shook all over (worse than Elvis Presley).
Luckily, the first girl with no name had already rolled up the window because bears are known for having bad breath. Bruno pushed. The VW leaned. Bruno jounced, which is something your Great Grandpa used to do to the bed to wake up Grandma Jane in the morning, (she was a little girl at the time) though this kind of jouncing wasn’t nearly as much fun for us.
Bruno shifted two steps over and looked through the back window. I couldn’t scootch over because the girls’ gear was in the way. He licked the window. I deduced it didn’t taste very good because he only licked it once. I tried to stare Bruno down. Bruno stared back and jounced. While Bruno and I were busy in a stare-down contest, the girls screamed their heads off.
Whether it was the screaming or my staring, Bruno eventually got back to all four legs and sauntered away, strutting along like the king of the castle. He stopped at the next car, to make the man behind the wheel turn prematurely grey.
In the end, the bears left the scene. Likely there was another party to attend. And so, we made it to Banff and spent the day, returning to the Lake Louise campground after sunset.
The End…. But just for today. This saga wasn’t over. Well, it was over for the girls with no name. But not for me. So, watch for Part Two. ‘Bears Can be Dastardly.’ (By the way, the PEI critter pictured is not a bear.)
