Bear!

Morning arrives, it always does and it wasn't the sound of the generator the woke me up. Which is a shock, because there is not hell of a lot more earth shattering than the sound of a gas powered generator. It obliterates the idyllic peace of the deep bush every damn time. Goddamn humanity's incessant need for power. Nope, it wasn't the deafing drone of a Honda generator that woke me up, not this time. This morning it was this;

“Bear! I think there is a fucking bear outside my tent! Holy fuck help! Somebody check and see if there is a bear outside my tent.”

Cue the chuckles. Lots of them.

“Your crazy dude. I am not sacrificing my head, to save yours. Not a chance”. Says a voice a few tents away from my own... Ed? Probably.

It got quiet. One could hear the odd chuckle, a guffaw, a quiet taunt, maybe a subtle tease. Everyone's ears were cocked, senses were sharp. Was there really a bear in camp? I distinctly heard a tent unzipping. We may have all teased and laughed at this dude's proclamation that he was being 'attacked' by a bear, but there was not one of use willing to be the first to test his bear theory. Every man and woman for themselves, is that not the law of the bush? Silence...

“False alarm. It was just some heavy snow that fallen from a tree close to my tent. My tent has caved in, but the coast is clear.”

More chuckles, heavier taunts, vicious teasing.

Ed says to the fella; “Oh man, you aren't gonna survive long in these parts if you confuse snow for bears. There are lots of both, but I'd rather wake up to snow.”

Ed was right, he didn't survive long. No, bear boy didn't die, he wasn't mauled, he didn't sink to his death in snow. He simply quit within a week, probably from the shame of it all. Human groups are savage and unforgiving. It is unBEARable (pun intended) to be the punchline of the communal joke. Poor fella.