The Bare Essentials

The Bare Essentials

It happened more or less at the same time -night time.

All was fine during the day. It would happen at night. The day in the month could vary, as would the frequency. But the time never changed-night.

I had lived down in Surrey BC for several years and needed a change, not out of the Province just somewhere a little less commuter belt and I was in a position to make a move.

The benefits of the move were many. I decided to ditch ‘stuff’ that I had for years never used or worn. ‘Stuff’ in cupboards and roof areas gathering dust while retaining the memories of a time gone by. It’s hard to say goodbye to something that you are partially convinced might come in handy or could be passed on to others-fanciful and for the most part not realistic, practical and not wanted by my imagined target audience.

My new living was north of Vancouver in a quiet spot not far from forested areas, streams and lakes. The yard offered me the chance to grow an assortment of vegetables and the need to construct fencing to discourage the local wildlife from helping themselves to mine and natures efforts. And that worked fine until two parts of the fence got broken down-just two parts, always the same parts. The damage was not difficult to repair just a pain to having the repeat exercise sometime(s) during the month.

I got talking to a neighbour-general chat, you know the format: who are you? Where are you from? What brought you here? That kind of gentle interrogation until we had a gap where I could ‘pitch’ my story about the fence. He just smiled and repeated my new home address and the previous owners who had moved on to more urban arrangements and would not miss… the bear visits. Bears? Yes sir, that property is bang on the regular bear highway.

I purchased a smart mini wireless camera and set it up in the garden and waited. I did not have to wait long. There, at the time expected, a large Black bear came up to the fence, rose on its hind legs and pushed down on my structure that was not designed for large black bears. The same was repeated on the other side of my veg. patch…and off the bear would amble onward to do whatever bears do when they need to get to their patch.

Now what do I do?

My name is Henry and I am a black bear. My territory lies north of Vancouver and ‘we’ black bears have lived, fished and foraged here for centuries. Over time the humans have moved in clearing the land and building houses. It’s a beautiful spot-forests, streams and lakes and plenty of food for me and others to find. I have an established route to and from my den. Recently the owner of the property I have always traversed has put in place an obstacle. It took me a while to work it out-the obstacle?...It’s a combination of posts and mesh fencing that blocks my route. The construction is not difficult to get through though frustratingto have to deal with it at that time of night. But, on my back legs and with my weight and downward thrust the fencing collapses. I have to do it twice- but I have the hang of it now. I keep knocking it down and someone keeps putting it back up.

Having given this some thought I had an idea. This place is bear land and I am on his patch. I have to treat the bear with the respect he deserves so maybe we can compromise. How? A gate. I’m going to make Bear Gates. I drew out a few designs and wanted to make sure I could keep the deer and racoons out while giving space for the bear. But what about the closure…latch? -maybe, bolt? Dunno. Lock? Don’t think so…I went for heavy weight latches that required significant downward pressure and placed at a height that a bear could reach but deer could not. The bottom of the gates fitted snuggly with the ground and brickwork driven into the ground…the doors should be racoon proof. I spring loaded the Doors, put them in place, set up the camcorder and waited.

Something had changed and my route now was blocked by a wooden structure. I used my nose and could smell wood and human. As usual I got up on my back legs and pushed on the new barrier. Unlike the mesh and poles nothing moved. I sat down and scratched at the door. I could have tried other parts of the fence but this is my route, my path, I have scented the route and it’s as fixed as a human highway. After a while I rose on my hind legs again and explored the structure. I found something that was not wood, it had no grain and scratching felt different…it was cold to the touch of my paw. After a few attempts at the metal ‘thing’ I pressed down, there was a click, the barrier opened and I could walk through. I walked carefully; I did not know what might be behind the new structure. I handled the second challenge in the same way and went on my way. The doors closed themselves somehow.

I had to applaud the ingenuity of the bear. It did not take it long to work out how the breach the doors. He leaves my lettuce, tomatoes and other veg. alone having a preference for fruit and berries and of course fish in the streams as they migrate. Bear Gate. Let’s call it that.

The above narrative arose from a chance conversation at Royston BC where I was looking at the breakwater and the wrecks that form the core of that construction. Those boats,scuttled many years ago are now rusted and bent with age and the ravages of the sea. But every scuttled wreck has a story. I was joined that day on the breakwater by a visitor. We got talking and as I am from Europe and he is Canadian the natural flow of conversation turned to nature. He told me a true story he knew of concerning a bear. The above is that story.