Bears and Wolves, Oh My

We never did get to that bear sanctuary, but we did visit the North American Bear Center as well as the International Wolf Center, both just a mile or so from Ely, MN where we were staying. These centers have bears and wolves on the premises that can not be released into the wild; their mission is to educate and raise awareness about these animals. Since they are located in an area with healthy bear and wolf populations, a large part of their message is dedicated to finding a balanced interaction between humans and these wild predators.

It wasn't long ago that by government mandate wolves were to be eradicated from the continental U.S. People believed that because of competition for game and the threat to livestock and humans that this was a prudent response, and American wolves were nearly wiped out.

Bears have not fared much better. Although not systematically targeted for extinction, in most places, any bear that comes too close to populated places will most likely be shot because of the unpredictable peril it poses.

I left Ely feeling that we people have a lot of work to do to re-establish an equilibrium with these creatures, not to mention the coyotes, foxes, mountain lions, and the surplus deer population that we have.

All of this was on my mind this evening when I read the news about the bear rampage in Yellowstone last night. The details are still emerging, but one man is dead and two people are injured after a bear tore through their tent campsite just 5 miles from the entrance gate to the park. It looks like this is just another tragic consequence of our failure to find a way to dwell peaceably with the other animals in our world.

Wrong Way

We were off to a bear sanctuary tonight about an hour from this town in the boundary waters. We had an internet generated map and directions, and I was driving. This is just the type of situation where technology fails me, or I it, depending on your perspective. I glanced at the tiny map quickly and then thrust it into the hands of my navigator. I believed I knew the general direction we were going, and I was happy to leave the specifics to her. The only detail I double checked was how to find the road leading out of town. Off we set on a winding road through national forests, past lakes and over rivers. It was beautiful.

According to the turn-by-turn summary, it was over 20 miles before we were supposed to make a right to stay on the same county road. At 21, 22, and 23 miles, we rationalized that perhaps it wasn't a right turn as much as a bear right. The road was empty and no waypoint towns were mentioned on our little map. We wouldn't actually switch route numbers for another 25 miles, so we barreled along our wilderness way, never even passing a place to pause and confirm our direction. At 50 miles, we finally found a gas station and we stopped to fill up and find out if we may have lost our way. As my mom was off asking directions, my iPhone finally got a signal, and I hastily punched in our destination to plan a route from our current location.

My jaw dropped when I saw that we had gone 180 degrees away from the bear preserve. When I checked the little map, I had assumed that we were traveling east, and I mistook our destination for our departure point. It would take two an a half hours to get to the bears, by which time the preserve would be closed. I cringed, sucked in my breath, and informed the other members of our party, egg-faced.

The upside was that we were only 6 miles from Lake Superior. We spent an hour on the coast at a couple of state parks-- walking a breakwater and visiting a light house. It turned out to be a pleasant, but bearless, evening. Later we were telling the tale at dinner, and I was even able to laugh a little, especially imagining what it would have been like had I stubbornly driven onward, stopping only when the road dead-ended on the shores of Gitchigoomie. Maybe a great lake glittering in my path would have convinced me that I had made a mistake. Maybe.

Humingbird Humdinger

This morning at breakfast, the hummingbird show was on again. The plot thickened when there was trouble even at the peaceful feeder from yesterday, so I decided to do some quick research into hummingbird behavior. I found that my assumptions from yesterday were all wrong-- it turns out that aggression is the rule and cooperation the exceptions. At this time of year, those guys are fueling up for their fall migration which includes a 500 mile non-stop leg over the Gulf of Mexico. No one is sure how they even do it-- the energy they need exceeds their body weight!

Golly. I guess in that situation, I might be a little testy about sharing, too.

Bird v Bird

We're on our second big trip of the summer, this time traveling in Northern Minnesota. Our first stop has been Itasca State Park, the place where the headwaters of the Mississippi River are. We are staying in a cool log cabin right up the hill from the lake. Around the lodge and visitors' center there are hummingbird feeders everywhere, but unlike many of these plastic hourglass shaped contraptions that I've seen in the yards and gardens near home, droves of hummingbirds actually congregate at these. I've seen more ruby-throats today than in my whole life combined.

At dinner tonight, we were seated by a window overlooking the lake. The sun was setting, and the sky was a lovely golden, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the drama unfolding at the hummingbird feeder right outside. My panfried walleye grew cold as one thumb-sized bird refused to share the nectar. If another hummer landed while he was eating, this teeny meanie would rear back, poke that lilliputian chest out, and blur his emerald wings at the newcomer. If that display of ill will failed to intimidate, he would fly around the feeder and physically chase the other bird off. Then he would retreat to a branch above the feeder, vigilantly guarding it from any other hummingbirds who might try to get a little nourishment. The tiny terrorist was tirelessly aggressive, sometimes scaring his fellow feeders off with just a mean little look.

I wondered if hummingbirds are naturally so selfish, but then I noticed that right around the corner was another feeder where three, four, five, and even six other birds were able to share a meal without any conflict. Who'da thunk that even hummingbirds have bullies?

Oh Fair Summer

Many of my teacher friends in other places are reaching that point in their summer vacation when it's time to prepare for the return to school. For me that seems inconceivable, having only been out for a month so far. We did receive the preservice week meeting schedule via e-mail yesterday, but it's still way too early to look forward to those hours spent in uncomfortable chairs, trying to focus on a two page agenda while your brain spins like a tea cup at the carnival cataloging everything you have to do to get ready for the students arriving in a few days.

There will be time enough for that delightful multitasking in another five weeks, because on the ferris wheel of vacation time, we're still going up. In a day or two we'll stop and dangle our feet high above the summer-- the entire season spread out beneath us, our car gently rocking in the late July breeze. If we crane our necks, we might see those who got on before us climbing out, and then we'll start to descend slowly, eventually following them to the exit.

But for now, I'm just going to enjoy the ride.

Put Your Potatoes In

My mother and your mother 
were hanging out clothes.
My mother punched your mother 
right in the nose.
What color blood came out?

We were talking this morning of the choosing rhymes we used to use when we were kids to pick the person who had to be IT in our games of tag and hide and seek. In addition to eeny meeny miney moe, the one above was a good one, as was Bubble gum bubble gum in a dish, how many pieces do you wish? and Engine engine number nine going down Chicago line. And who can forget the classic one potato, two potato? I still think of my fists as potatoes sometimes, and there was a practical elegance to bopping your chin with your fist when you were the counter.

Most rhymes ended with my mother told me to pick the very best one, and you are NOT it. Hmmm. I'm not the very best one, but I'm not IT either-- oh the inner conflict such a procedure created. To be honest, I always liked it best when we agreed to end the choosing quickly-- rather than eliminating the safe players one agonizing kid at a time, we chose who was IT in the first round, and then we just played the game.

Generation Communication

I have a mobile phone, and I don't hesitate to use it, but I'm still one of those people who my friends and family are never sure they can reach that way. Texting is better than voice, but sometimes I don't have service, or it's on vibe, or I don't hear the ring-- you know how it can be. My phone is definitely not a life line to me; the rollover minutes on our family plan are always in the triple digits, and I never come close to the 200 text messages I pay for, either.

This summer, as an early 15th birthday gift, we added Josh to our plan and got him a phone. We agreed to pay the basic monthly charge and for 200 text messages, so he chose a phone, and we had it shipped to him. It arrived today, and this evening we received our first text from him... im kinda worried that i might go over the 200 text limit already

What?! In a few hours?! Of course I've heard all the news reports about teens and texting, but I never would have predicted such a thing with a kid I know so well. So yep, despite spending most of my working days with adolescents, this middle school teacher was blind-sided. Sigh.

I have to give Josh credit, though. By telling us right away, I was able to switch him to an unlimited plan before the messages even posted to our account. It turned out to be a true act of 21st century responsibility. He's still going to have to come up with the extra 15 bucks a month, though.