So there I was in the street in front of our S. Lake Tahoe Cabin talking to my brother on my Cel phone. Suffice it to say he was sharing with me some struggles he'd been experiencing and didn't want the whole family alerted to before he was to arrive at the cabin.
I was pacing the street in front of our house and neighbor's yard and driveway (vacant that night). After an hour or so I turned to head back toward our open garage (two garage doors, one open one closed). In the garage very near the open door sat the garbage cans containing, among other things, trout guts, tri-tip trimmings and chicken wing tips.
There he was, walking between my car and the garage (about a 3 foot space) heading away from where I had been standing most of the previous hour. He was pretty big and his hair glistened brown as the light from the garage highlighted his derriere.
He walked on and I rushed in to the garage to hit the garage door opener/closer. To my chagrin I hit the wrong button and rather than closing the open door, I opened the closed door! I proceeded into the cabin to not so calmly alert the family to the bear I had just seen. Exacerbating the excitement, a coat rack I knocked over by opening the door hit the floor right about the same time I spit out "Bear ... Front yard."
Another brother followed me out the front door to catch another glimpse and my niece promptly closed the door behind us. Of course locking the door behind us made her feel even safer from a bear who might try to use the front door to gain entry into the house.
We didn’t see him again that night but he left some rather large and intimidating paw prints in the front yard.
Two mornings later the garbage cans were at the end of our very short driveway awaiting pick up. We were making sausage and eggs for about 20 people when my Mom came unglued at the sight of a much bigger bear with a black coat sitting among the cans enjoying, among other things, fish guts, tri tip trimmings and chicken wing tips.
The younger gals in our group pretty much lost it in much the same manner Mom did. My brother-in-law smiling and enjoying a comfortable view from the balcony upstairs reached for a camera.
About that time Dad opened the door and had a word or two with the bear who casually looked up at Pops and sauntered off slowly as if to say, “Take it easy man, I’m just eating your trash. It’s not like you wanted it anyway!”
Our neighbor later informed us that he had seen the bear on our front porch right outside our front door. He had hoped none of us would walk out and startle it. Of course that was unlikely as we were quite busy tempting our appetites to the smell of sizzling Jimmy Deans. I guess we were lucky!
My brother-in-law missed the shot so decided it might be a good idea to plant a trout or two in the bushes outside so as to lure the bear back against most everyone else’s better judgment.
Of course, the bear never made it back and my brother-in-law and sister took off later that night so I did the right thing by trashing the rotting fish while ensuring the garage door remained shut with garbage cans properly sealed.
I think the first bear was a Black Bear (brown in color) and the second was a Brown Bear (black in color) I’m basing this analysis on size alone. It seems to me Black Bears seem to be smaller than Browns but I've heard they can be either color.
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9 comments:
Next time bring a photographer (ME) and I will take some images to remember and then take care of the problem for you.
Very cool!!!
Too bad you didn't get any pictures of the bear(s).
Sounds like you had a great time in Tahoe! I can't wait to hear all about it (rafting too!! Lucky!).
Wait it just dawned on me that your a photographer.. where are the shots?
I'm calling BS.
First of all, I know you, and those garbage cans were full of either empties or bottles on ice.
Second, there were 15 of you there, on vacation, and NO ONE snapped a shot? Pffft.
Third, you say "I guess we were lucky!" If you were so damn lucky, why didn't you go bet the mortgage payment on the roulette wheel? No one is lucky in Tahoe.
I think Tobold has the right of it. Sounds like a fishin' story that grew fur and claws, sorry man. I've heard you tell some whoppers, what can I say.
Hey, it was great to hear from you buddy! I'll browse your blog and comment willy-nilly, hither and yon, as is my wont. :)
Scott
TTL.
I, too, went on a search for the camera. I didn't grab it in time. HOWEVER, there are photos of the bear as he wondered down the street. I will have to call my brother and get photographic evidence for those of little faith! In fact as my dad went for the door, I said something like, "Wait"...
Again, even with my cool, calm nerves of steel, I failed to realize my camera was right under my nose. It took me an hour or so to embarass myself with that realization.
Scott,
You and Blowhole Toehorn know one another methinks. You just don't know it yet.
Trivia for you...Do you know the reference from whence comes his moniker?
He's the Hobbit that started cultivating the good weed.
Well, "pipe-weed". Whatever.
Yup,
Give Shdware a cigar!!
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