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blizzard warnings - 13:52 , 03 October 2013

heelerless - 21:32 , 18 August 2013

Red Coat Inn in Fort McLeod - 11:38 , 23 June 2013

rushing into the waters - 09:53 , 21 June 2013

choosing a spot - 17:43 , 27 April 2013

09 June 2008 - 00:18

bear hands

The wife, youngest son and I are heading into town for dinner (Pizza Hut again, finally), when I catch a familiar whiff. And check my hands to be sure.

My hands smell like bear.

"I'd have thought you would have washed them by now," the wife answered.

I did. Twice.

But bears are greasy.

The smell stays with you.

The call had come at twenty 'til three. A bear hunter, with a bear he'd killed. Law says he has to check it in, but both game wardens are out of town.

Doin' what wardens do. It is a weekend, you know.

"Can you check it?"

Yep. So, ten minutes later I'm climbing on top of a pretty cinnamon black bear on top of an ATV on top of a pickup.

I check the sex and yes, the hunter was right. It's a female. Which is the least desirable sex to take, but not a problem for this hunter. The bear population in that mountain range is healthy enough we allow hunters to take as many male bears as they can (which isn't a lot, because there aren't many bear hunters, and they each can only take one bear). But there is a quota on the number of female bears.

Hence the mandatory check-in. Reach that quota of females and the bear season closes. The quota for this area is only four females.

This little gal was number two. And since the season closes in a week anyway, her harvest probably won't change anything.

We still need our data. I check her teeth:

They're sharp and shiny. Not very old. Maybe two years old. Possibly three, but she's kinda small for three.

I check her nipples: pink. If she'd ever been pregnant and nursed, they would be brown. So, again, a young bear.

I pull out the leatherman and the hunter's brother holds the bear's head so I can cut out two small, vestigial teeth from behind the large canines. These will go to the lab to find out how old she actually was.

Last thing I check it under her hide, to see how much fat she's got. And it's a fair amount, for a spring bear. By fall, most bears are rolling in fat after a summer of gorging themselves. But after a winter, a long winter, bears often emerge from hibernation lean and hungry.

Either she wintered good or, more likely, the lush spring has already allowed her to start laying on some extra stored energy.

Unless the summer turns vicious, most critters should be looking good and healthy come this fall. Tough winters are usually followed by fat summers.

My inspection done, the paperwork signed, and the hunter and his clan are off for home. And I step inside for one more careful inspection:

Bear! The heelers' eyes open wide as they absorb every potent molecule into their noses that they can.

And now, two hours later, as we drive to town...

Traces of that pretty cinnamon still linger.

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