Off Season (5 page)

“You're telling me that a bear was right here where we're standing and it could have been here just a few minutes ago?” I questioned.

“Not a few minutes. We've been here for a few minutes and the bear would have heard us coming … you two are very noisy and we were yelling and — ”

“Where is it now?” I asked.

“In the forest.”

I looked around us. The court was surrounded on three sides by the berry bushes and low brush and by the creek on the fourth. On the other side of the creek there were tall cliffs, topped with trees. Nervously I scanned the brush around us. I didn't see anything. I didn't hear anything. It was quiet. Maybe too quiet.

I pulled the basketball up to my chest like I was trying to protect it or hide behind it or something … That was ridiculous! If a bear charged me the only thing I could do was throw it a perfect chest pass.

“Should we be out here?” Kia asked, as always voicing my thoughts.

“Why not?” Ned asked. He sounded genuinely confused as to why she even asked the question.

“The bear.”

“Oh, you don't have to worry about him.”

“Because he's long gone, right?” I asked.

“Probably.”

“Probably?” I asked. That wasn't the reassurance I was looking for.

“It's hard to say for sure, but this time of year bears spend their whole time on the prowl,
looking for food. It isn't like he's going to stick around.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “Besides, I'm sure they're afraid of people.”

Ned looked at me in shock. “You think an eight hundred-pound bear is afraid of you?”

“They're not?”

He shook his head. “Afraid is the wrong word. They do try to avoid people when possible … especially black bears. If they hear you coming, they try to get out of your way.”

“And grizzly bears?”

“Depends if they're hungry.”

“Hungry?” I gasped. “You mean they're more dangerous before breakfast?”

Ned laughed. “They're more dangerous in years when the food supply is low.”

“And is it low this year?” I asked anxiously.

“The lack of rain means there weren't many berries, so it's not a good year for bears … which isn't good for us.” Ned paused. “Do you know the way to tell a black bear from a grizzly bear?”

“The color?” I asked.

“Size?” Kia questioned.

“Both of those, but the best way is to look for the hump.”

“Hump?”

“Grizzlies have a big hump on their backs. The rule is, if it has a hump, make a lump. If it's black, fight back.”

“You want to explain that to us?” I asked.

“Yeah, explain it,” Kia agreed.

“If you're attacked by a grizzly — a bear with a hump — you put your arms over top of your head to protect your face and neck. You make a lump.”

“And that works?” I asked.

“Better than fighting back. That just gets it mad. So just play dead and hope it eventually gets bored and goes away.”

“And if it's a black bear you fight back?” Kia asked.

“You yell and scream at it. You put your hands over top of your head.” Ned explained by demonstrating. “That makes you look bigger and the bear will probably run away.”

“Forget about the bear running. If I see a bear, I'll be the one doing the running,” I said.

“You can try. You'd be amazed just how fast a bear can run,” Ned said.

“You'd be amazed at just how fast
I
can run if I'm being chased by a bear,” I countered.

Ned and Kia both laughed.

“But really, if a bear is chasing you, you don't have to be able to outrun it,” Ned said.

“You don't?”

He shook his head. “All you have to be able to do is run faster than
one
of the people with you.” Ned started laughing at his own joke. I didn't think it was that funny. Especially since I was pretty sure that Kia was faster than I was.

“Forget about running,” Kia said. “I'm climbing a tree.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ned said, “that's the other way you can tell a grizzly and black bear apart.”

“How?”

“If you climb a tree and it climbs up after you, it's a black bear.”

“And if it doesn't climb up, it's a grizzly?” I asked.

“Exactly. They don't climb trees.”

“So we'd be safe up the tree.”

“Not really. The grizzly would just shake the tree until you fall out or it falls down.”

Kia giggled nervously.

Maybe Ned was just putting us on … trying to get the city kids all nervous.

“You've lived here for almost your whole life, right?” I asked Ned.

“Almost all.”

“Have you ever been bothered by a bear?”

“Never. Not once,” he added.

“That's what I thought — ”

“But my father has … five or six times.”

“He's been attacked by bears five or six times?” I gasped.

He nodded. “But he did the things I told you, the things he told me, and he was fine.”

“That's good to know!” I said. I felt better.

“Except for the one time, with the one bear.” Ned said.

“Your dad was attacked by a bear?”

“It's something that happens to park rangers. If you want, he'll tell you all about it,” Ned said. “He'll even show you the scars.”

“Scars?” Kia and I said in unison.

“On his back and arm. I think he needed around one hundred stitches.”

I handed the ball to Ned. “I don't feel much like playing basketball anymore.”

“Me neither,” Kia agreed.

We started to walk away when I heard the sound of a basketball hitting against the back-board. I stopped and turned around. Ned was still on the court, taking shots.

“Ned, come on!” I called out.

“I'm staying to take some shots. You two go
if you want. You know the way don't you?”

“Of course,” I yelled back.

“Just go back along the trail … the one that goes through the berry bushes … the berries that the bears like so much.”

“He's just joking around, right?” Kia asked.

“Ned isn't somebody with a real sense of humor.”

“Or you could just wait a while and I'd go back with you!” Ned yelled.

“What do you think?” I asked Kia.

“Maybe we should just stay here for a while and shoot a few baskets.”

“How you doing?” Kia asked.

“Tired. How about you?” I asked.

“Tired doesn't cover it.”

Ned and his dad were up ahead of us on the trail. Kia and I were sort of keeping up, just not keeping completely up. The energy that I'd had for the first few hours had slowly leaked away.

“Do you think we're going to take another break soon?” Kia asked.

“I doubt it,” I said. “Ned's dad is like a re-ally, really big version of that Energizer bunny. But I bet he'd stop if we asked him.”

“Why don't you ask him?” Kia asked.

“Not me. I think
you
should ask him. He didn't say that I was
pretty
.”

Kia shot me a dirty look. “He's your cousin.”

“My mother's cousin's husband is what he is, but I'm not asking him to stop.”

“Why not?”

“I just don't want to ask … I don't want him to think that I can't keep up.”

“But you can't keep up. Neither of us can.”

“But he doesn't know that,” I argued. “Let's just keep going for a while.”

Kia let out a big sigh but didn't say anything more.

Ned and Dan disappeared over a rise in the trail. I didn't like that. Somehow the woods seemed less wild when there were other people around. Especially somebody as large as Dan. The biggest thing that kept me going — even bigger than my pride — was the need to keep him in sight. There were lots of animals out here, and while
some
of them were even bigger than Dan,
most
of them were bigger than Kia and me. Having him in sight meant that we were safe … well at least safer. I remembered about the bear attacking him. It must have been one really, really huge bear.

“Come on, let's move quicker,” I said and picked up my pace to try to get them back in sight.

“I thought you were tired,” Kia said. She struggled to pick up her pace to catch me.

I made the top of the rise and Ned was standing there just over the edge. His father was well down the trail.

“My father wanted to know if you two needed to take another break,” Ned said.

“That would be — ”

“But I told him you wouldn't,” Ned said, cutting me off. “I told him about what great shape you two are in because of all the basket-ball you play.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. It was certainly different going up and down a basketball court than it was going up and down a mountain.

Ned started walking again and we fell in behind him.

“How much farther do we have to go?” Kia asked.

“My dad said we have around two more hours to go.”

“But how far do we still have to walk?” Kia persisted.

“That I'm not sure about. Distance and time are different things. I don't know what the trail looks like up ahead.”

“Are we even on a trail?” I asked. I'd been wondering about that for a while.

“My father is breaking a trail and we're following behind him, so I guess
technically
we're on a trail.”

“This would probably all be easier if we were wearing the right type of shoes,” Kia said.

Ned was wearing hiking boots. Kia and I were wearing basketball shoes. I was always wearing basketball shoes. You could never tell when a game might break out — although the odds were very long that it was going to happen out here.

I'd always thought that basketball shoes were right for any occasion — first day of school, wedding, church, going out for dinner, visiting your grandparents. I'd now found the one activity that made me want to have something else on my feet.

I adjusted the strap on my backpack. It had started digging into my right shoulder. In my pack was a sleeping bag, a little thin foam mattress to go on the ground, a few pieces of clothing and some food. Kia had pretty well the same things. Ned had those things plus some pots, an axe and the heads for a shovel and rake — minus the wooden handles. I'd asked him if his father was planning to do some gardening while we were out here, but Dan said they were bringing them along “just in case.” He didn't say in case of what and I hadn't asked.

Dan was carrying a lot, probably more than the three of us combined. He had almost all our food, two tents, his sleeping bag, a Coleman stove
and assorted other things. He also had a chainsaw strapped to the outside of the pack. It wasn't a big chainsaw, but it certainly looked like it still weighed a lot. I didn't even bother asking why he was bringing the chainsaw along. I figured it was probably “just in case” as well.

Up ahead, Dan disappeared over another rise. I picked up my pace again to get him back in sight.

“So what did you think of my cooking?” Dan asked as we all sat around the stove, our plates balanced on our knees. We were sitting on some logs that Dan had positioned around the stove.

“It was pretty good … you know, considering,” Kia said.

“Considering what?” he asked.

“Considering those hot dogs weren't made out of meat,” she said.

“I got news for you, Kia,” Dan said. “
Most
hot dogs aren't made of meat.”

He and Ned started laughing.

I took another little handful of trail mix — a homemade combination of nuts and dried berries and other fruit — and stuffed it in my mouth. It was tasty. That meant that
either it really was good or I was still hungry. Maybe both. Hiking could really work up an appetite.

“What would be perfect now would be to roast some marshmallows over a campfire,” Kia said.

“No marshmallows,” Dan said, shaking his head. “Nothing but processed sugar.”

“I get bumps when I eat processed sugar,” Ned added.

“And even if we had them, we couldn't roast them over a campfire,” Dan continued.

“Why not?” I asked.

“There are no open fires allowed anywhere in the whole park due to the dry conditions and the fear of sparking a forest fire,” Dan explained.

“I didn't know that.”

“The whole place is so dry even a small fire could spread quickly,” Dan said.

“That's why we brought along the shovel, rake and chainsaw,” Ned added.

“You lost me,” Kia said.

“Those are the basic tools you need to fight a small forest fire,” Dan explained.

“A chainsaw?” I asked. What would you use that for, cutting up a burning tree?

“The chainsaw, and all the tools, are used
to create a fire line … a break in the forest cover to try to stop the fire from advancing,” he said.

“From that point, if the wind is right, you set up a backfire,” Ned added.

Gee, that cleared up nothing.

“It's simple and complicated,” Dan said. “Tell you what, Ned can explain it all to you. He's read a lot of books about fighting forest fires.”

“Lots.”

“So you could fight a fire?” Kia asked.

“I know how to fight them,” Ned said. “I've read all about them, but I'm too young to actually fight them.”

“Or be anywhere around them,” Dan added. “But once he turns sixteen, he can come along with me when it's needed.”

“That would be exciting,” Kia said.

“And dangerous,” I added.

“And with all the dry weather, this summer has the potential to be both exciting and dangerous.”

“Have there been a lot of fires?” I asked.

“There've been a lot of fires but nothing in this part of the park,” Dan said. “But that's partly because it's been restricted.”