Gopher Gulch: Cougars, bikes and bears, oh my!

There’s a bear wandering around the neighborhood, but I haven’t seen it yet. Since mine is the only place without a dog, B’rer Bear will appear eventually. Sanctuary is the only thing he’ll find, since I don’t have fruit trees and leave out nothing more palatable than dandelions.

A couple years ago the biggest black bear I ever saw appeared on the back porch. It didn’t occur to me until a few hours later that perhaps running at it, clapping my hands and yelling, “Shoo!” might not have been the smartest thing I ever did. Still, my heart was in the right place. I know the bear who learns to live with humans doesn’t live long.

His best chance was to be terrified of bipeds, so we played out a scene much like the recent incident where a cougar was cornered by a Chihuahua. I made a lot of irritating noise and moved fast, and he took refuge in the woods.

I confess that my sympathies are entirely with the bear, the cougar and all the other critters we’ve displaced with houses, highways and shopping centers. State and national parks? They aren’t allowed to eat people there, either.

Another critter endangered by the fast life is the old fool on a bicycle. Being an elder on a bike is like driving a 1959 Oldsmobile, the one with the variable steering. If you survive the first 500 miles it’s wonderful, but there are bound to be a few close calls during the trial period.

My first close call came last week. I’d gone to the harbor, figuring if I could learn to drive a Kenworth there, I could probably relearn to ride a bike. Lots of room, good visibility and the heady aromatherapy of dead fish and creosote. For those of us who grew up in the harbor, it’s the smell of  childhood and freedom.

I was zooming along past stacks of floating docks when an old pickup came whizzing out from behind one of the stacks. Childhood memory took over, I stood on the brake, jerked to the right and toppled. My helmet never touched the pavement, but if I’d been learning to use hand brakes, I’d be roadkill.

Truth? I wouldn’t mind if they’d just leave me there for Turkey Vulture, Raven and Rat. End life with great sounds, scents and the feel of flying while providing a veritable scavenger banquet. Better me than plastic wrap.

Either that or bring on the sunshine!