this is a story from a few years back. I remember it like I wrote it yesterday. OK, I found it in my archives and had forgotten all about it, but honesty is not my strong suit. But you already knew that if you have read any of my other stories. Anyway, here is what I wrote back then:
This is your intrepid traveler, reporting ‘from the “Edge of Texas”, a term coined by my youngest daughter Ali, when she was a young girl. (I will shamelessly steal anything that is clever.) I am writing this as I rest up from my July 4th holiday weekend. I spent five days in Big Bend National Park where I was visiting my lovely wife, the fetching Mrs. Intrepid Traveler. We shall refer to her as Gwen, since that is what is on her birth certificate. It is from Hawaii, so who knows if it is a legitimate document.
Gwen is working as a National Park Ranger for the summer. The Park Service was looking for an Elementary School teacher who could help them write curriculum as an outreach to school age park visitors. The Park Service canvassed the entire nation for a suitable candidate and Gwen got the job. She found out later that she was the only person who applied for the job, but she was still the best qualified candidate in the country to do it.
During the time I was in the park, Gwen and I went hiking every day for a few hours. The weather was spectacular. In the Trans Pecos area of Texas, it is typically over 100 degrees F at this time of the summer. But in the park, where the elevation is over a mile high in some parts, the temperature was amazingly cool and pleasant.
The last day of my visit, Gwen and I decided to be bold and take a 12.6 mile round trip hike on the South Rim Trail. This is an all day hike where the trail gains 2,000 feet in elevation. The trail winds around rugged cliffs and picturesque woodlands in order to reach the South Rim of the park. I was packing enough water to supply a 6 mule wagon team for a week while Gwen had the snacks and first aid stuff. After we had been walking a while, we met up with a hiker coming down from the trail who seemed a bit spooked. He told us he had run across black bear at 4 or 5 locations along the trail. He was nervously wiping his brow with a red bandana and talking to himself loudly as we passed. We figured he was doing that to ward off the scary beasts.
As we approached the summit of the trail a rainstorm began, with lightning and thunder. With no protection from the elements we got soaked as we waited for the weather to pass. Gwen and I hoped we had not walked this far only to be struck by lightning. There were other hikers on the ridge with us, also unprotected from the elements. I hunkered down in the lowest place I could find. I am a tall person and I felt very vulnerable to the lightning, so I began singing the Star Spangled Banner. My ploy worked. The other hikers quickly stood at attention, in honor of the 4th of July. With them standing, I was no longer the tallest attractant for lightning bolts. I really do love being patriotic.
After the storm passed, we carefully made our way along the slick rocks on the edge of the mountain to see what we had hiked so many hours to appreciate. And before us was an astonishing display of the vast west Texas desert terrain, a mile below. We could see for more than a hundred miles into the distance. The rain shower had partially shifted over to the land below us so we were literally looking down on a rainstorm. It was really unbelievable. We were awed by the view. Reluctantly we turned and reversed our direction back down the trail.
It may seem easier to walk down a mountain trail than come up it, but by this time my legs were as weak as Jello shots at a Baptist picnic. It was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other as we trudged along. I was walking a few feet in front of Gwen when I suddenly came across a huge bear sitting on its haunches less than 50 paces from us. It is all a blur to me now, but I think I saw him wipe his chin with a red bandana, and casually sharpen his nails with one of the handy attachments found in a Swiss army knife. I heard an audible burp from the dangerous beast as he stood on his hind legs. Our eyes met. The massive creature realized he was no longer alone on the trail. He stared at us. I think he licked his lips.
Even though exhausted, I still had cat-like reflexes. I immediately dashed behind Gwen. My first thought, naturally, was to protect her rear from any additional bear that might try to sneak up from behind us. Those crafty beasts always hunt in pairs. I believe I learned that fact from a Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom episode. What would Marlin Perkins do right now? My mind raced, and I quickly analyzed the situation. I knew I did not need to be able to outrun this bear, I just had to be able to outrun Gwen. My legs suddenly had the strength of ten men as I glanced around for an escape route.
Gwen was unfazed by the giant claw-wielding menace. She immediately took control of the touchy situation. She used her best 5th grade teacher stare and glowered at the beast. One look from her and he meekly scurried off of the trail and into the woods. I think I heard him squeak out a timid whimper.
Still shaking from our close encounter, we continued down the trail. Knowing that we should make noise to ward off any further encounters, Gwen and I spoke in elevated voices. After a while, I re-gained my manly composure and said “I guess we showed him a thing or two!” And, feeling braver, I hoped to tempt the bear into a repeat appearance by announcing “I guess I picked a bad time to smear my body with honey!”. “And did I mention, Mr. Bear, that I am carrying a huge picnic basket?” But, despite my attempts to provoke another bear encounter, no more bear were sighted.
In order to expand the boundaries of known science I suggested to Gwen that we follow the bear to see if it really did shit in the woods. We could have put an end to this fabled speculation once and for all. But Gwen calmly convinced me my idea was without merit. She emphasized her point, by beating me on the head with her hiking stick. Apparently she was still a bit touchy about my notion to out run her. Just how did she read my mind?
Editor’s note: The events depicted in the above narration are true… sort of. To the degree that a hike was made, the scenery was spectacular, and a bear was spotted. The National Park Service claims no responsibility for any injury suffered by hikers from their wives, who happen to be Park Service Employees.
Follow up: I sent this story to Gwen via email while she was still working at the park. She showed it to her fellow Park Ranger colleagues and one of them submitted it to the Park Newsletter. It was published and was a big hit with the park employees who read the newsletter. On my return trip to the park later in the summer, I was an instant celebrity for having authored this story. Everyone seemed to know who I was. But the funny part (sad, really) of this was that Gwen had been working diligently at the park all summer, quietly doing thankless work that no one else wanted to do. But now she wasn’t known for her tireless acts of good works at the park, she was known as the lady married to the guy who wrote the story about the bear encounter. She is still bitter about that and carries that hiking stick around just to remind me that she can still read my mind.
This is your intrepid traveler, reporting ‘from the “Edge of Texas”, a term coined by my youngest daughter Ali, when she was a young girl. (I will shamelessly steal anything that is clever.) I am writing this as I rest up from my July 4th holiday weekend. I spent five days in Big Bend National Park where I was visiting my lovely wife, the fetching Mrs. Intrepid Traveler. We shall refer to her as Gwen, since that is what is on her birth certificate. It is from Hawaii, so who knows if it is a legitimate document.
Gwen is working as a National Park Ranger for the summer. The Park Service was looking for an Elementary School teacher who could help them write curriculum as an outreach to school age park visitors. The Park Service canvassed the entire nation for a suitable candidate and Gwen got the job. She found out later that she was the only person who applied for the job, but she was still the best qualified candidate in the country to do it.
During the time I was in the park, Gwen and I went hiking every day for a few hours. The weather was spectacular. In the Trans Pecos area of Texas, it is typically over 100 degrees F at this time of the summer. But in the park, where the elevation is over a mile high in some parts, the temperature was amazingly cool and pleasant.
The last day of my visit, Gwen and I decided to be bold and take a 12.6 mile round trip hike on the South Rim Trail. This is an all day hike where the trail gains 2,000 feet in elevation. The trail winds around rugged cliffs and picturesque woodlands in order to reach the South Rim of the park. I was packing enough water to supply a 6 mule wagon team for a week while Gwen had the snacks and first aid stuff. After we had been walking a while, we met up with a hiker coming down from the trail who seemed a bit spooked. He told us he had run across black bear at 4 or 5 locations along the trail. He was nervously wiping his brow with a red bandana and talking to himself loudly as we passed. We figured he was doing that to ward off the scary beasts.
As we approached the summit of the trail a rainstorm began, with lightning and thunder. With no protection from the elements we got soaked as we waited for the weather to pass. Gwen and I hoped we had not walked this far only to be struck by lightning. There were other hikers on the ridge with us, also unprotected from the elements. I hunkered down in the lowest place I could find. I am a tall person and I felt very vulnerable to the lightning, so I began singing the Star Spangled Banner. My ploy worked. The other hikers quickly stood at attention, in honor of the 4th of July. With them standing, I was no longer the tallest attractant for lightning bolts. I really do love being patriotic.
After the storm passed, we carefully made our way along the slick rocks on the edge of the mountain to see what we had hiked so many hours to appreciate. And before us was an astonishing display of the vast west Texas desert terrain, a mile below. We could see for more than a hundred miles into the distance. The rain shower had partially shifted over to the land below us so we were literally looking down on a rainstorm. It was really unbelievable. We were awed by the view. Reluctantly we turned and reversed our direction back down the trail.
It may seem easier to walk down a mountain trail than come up it, but by this time my legs were as weak as Jello shots at a Baptist picnic. It was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other as we trudged along. I was walking a few feet in front of Gwen when I suddenly came across a huge bear sitting on its haunches less than 50 paces from us. It is all a blur to me now, but I think I saw him wipe his chin with a red bandana, and casually sharpen his nails with one of the handy attachments found in a Swiss army knife. I heard an audible burp from the dangerous beast as he stood on his hind legs. Our eyes met. The massive creature realized he was no longer alone on the trail. He stared at us. I think he licked his lips.
Even though exhausted, I still had cat-like reflexes. I immediately dashed behind Gwen. My first thought, naturally, was to protect her rear from any additional bear that might try to sneak up from behind us. Those crafty beasts always hunt in pairs. I believe I learned that fact from a Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom episode. What would Marlin Perkins do right now? My mind raced, and I quickly analyzed the situation. I knew I did not need to be able to outrun this bear, I just had to be able to outrun Gwen. My legs suddenly had the strength of ten men as I glanced around for an escape route.
Gwen was unfazed by the giant claw-wielding menace. She immediately took control of the touchy situation. She used her best 5th grade teacher stare and glowered at the beast. One look from her and he meekly scurried off of the trail and into the woods. I think I heard him squeak out a timid whimper.
Still shaking from our close encounter, we continued down the trail. Knowing that we should make noise to ward off any further encounters, Gwen and I spoke in elevated voices. After a while, I re-gained my manly composure and said “I guess we showed him a thing or two!” And, feeling braver, I hoped to tempt the bear into a repeat appearance by announcing “I guess I picked a bad time to smear my body with honey!”. “And did I mention, Mr. Bear, that I am carrying a huge picnic basket?” But, despite my attempts to provoke another bear encounter, no more bear were sighted.
In order to expand the boundaries of known science I suggested to Gwen that we follow the bear to see if it really did shit in the woods. We could have put an end to this fabled speculation once and for all. But Gwen calmly convinced me my idea was without merit. She emphasized her point, by beating me on the head with her hiking stick. Apparently she was still a bit touchy about my notion to out run her. Just how did she read my mind?
Editor’s note: The events depicted in the above narration are true… sort of. To the degree that a hike was made, the scenery was spectacular, and a bear was spotted. The National Park Service claims no responsibility for any injury suffered by hikers from their wives, who happen to be Park Service Employees.
Follow up: I sent this story to Gwen via email while she was still working at the park. She showed it to her fellow Park Ranger colleagues and one of them submitted it to the Park Newsletter. It was published and was a big hit with the park employees who read the newsletter. On my return trip to the park later in the summer, I was an instant celebrity for having authored this story. Everyone seemed to know who I was. But the funny part (sad, really) of this was that Gwen had been working diligently at the park all summer, quietly doing thankless work that no one else wanted to do. But now she wasn’t known for her tireless acts of good works at the park, she was known as the lady married to the guy who wrote the story about the bear encounter. She is still bitter about that and carries that hiking stick around just to remind me that she can still read my mind.
