Nonfiction

The Bear Spray Incident

or ‘How To Be Utterly Unimpressive in This Great Majestic World’

It was the summer of 2016; I was twenty.

Working in the seclusion of the great Rocky Mountains, out of cellular range, with spotty satellite signal directly on premises only, sharing a shoebox of a room, often intoxicated, incredibly yet covertly awkward around the others— I was in an adventurous spirit!

An unwisely adventurous spirit.

They were different times, I was younger, and experimenting with shutting down certain feelings on command, such as fear. I would simply imagine them as a file you could .zip and store deep at the back of your mind; it has since become an archaic system.

It improved my night walking experience ten-fold, but then I’m also fortunate still to have night walks.

I hadn’t yet learned to appreciate life; many short-sighted and unnecessary risks were taken.

Not A Plan

I was wrong to get involved.

I wasn’t involved in the planning, or set to join the party until hours after everyone left, and wouldn’t be able to contact anyone upon leaving the resort.

On a four hour trail, in the middle of nowhere.

And so, around 21:00, having finished my shift, I promptly shoved into my bag a thin blanket, some sliced bread, a metallic bottle of water, plus some Black Ice and Mike’s Hard Lemonade.

Oh, and of course, my handy can of bear spray.

Singing For the Wildlife

It took three hours to reach the lake, in which time most of the poison had been drunk, and I sang loudly to ward off bears, wolves and mountain lions.

This is the thing about wildlife far from the humanly masses, they don’t want ANYTHING to do with us.

Especially if you’re a lower-class millennial or younger, considering your parents probably consumed more chemicals than real food before you were even conceived.

Still, I wouldn’t take chances, so, quite intoxicated, I loudly belted every tune in my repertoire, and was duly left alone.

The front-desk clerk for overnight hours at the hotel also jogged by a couple of times.

He’d run the full 29km trail, both ways, in less than thirty minutes.

The Ladies

Soon about to reach the meeting location, I witnessed a faraway fire through the trees around the bend. Though not so many people as I expected.

Approaching the fire, I startled a couple of middle-aged ladies who’d been enjoying the lively ambience of the night. I asked them about a traveling party, to no avail. They offered for me to stay with them for the night. I should have accepted.

But then, I may not still be here today; no one knows.

I walked halfway around the lake, to a point where the fire was barely a dot to my vision, unpacked my blanket on the damp ground, and attempted to rest.

A Cold and Anxious Night

There’s no light way of putting it; I was cold, wasted, alone, poorly prepared— utterly unconvinced I was safe from predators. This was before I owned many knives, something which might have — unreasonably — given me slightly a deeper sense of safety otherwise.

I’d bought a hunting knife, but only ever used it once to eat peanut butter on a nearby mountain top. I eventually needed money again, and sold it for less than half its original value.

But I digress.

I guzzled down my remaining alcohol, at which point sleep came in numerous short bouts.

Nope

A time came when I wanted nothing more than to return. Sleep was futile, I was out of food and of alcohol, and my phone only had enough battery to display the time against a dark background.

I could only think of bears, mountain lions, and wolves.

Even imagining a moose— CAN you imagine?

That’s instant death.

I wasn’t equipped for anything of the kind.

What an idiot.

A Beautiful Sight

Two hours had passed.

I struggled to my feet, for the first time observing the sheer magnificence of my surroundings. The sky, lightly clouded over, reflected stars beneath the surrounding mountains. The trees, near and distant, far spanning huddles of darkness.

Everything was navy blue, or deep, abysmal black. Everything but the moon and the stars, these which rotated from sight with the passing clouds.

If you’ve never watched clouds speed directly above you, I recommend you spend some time in an elevated mountain range, you’ll never forget it. Everyone wants to talk about the northern lights, but I found either spectacle as equally entertaining.

Sadly, I never got a picture of the location.

The next attempt came two years later, at which point a young bear got in the way of things. It’s another story of which I’m deeply fond, though for different reasons entirely.

Note: I had settled down right around and past the far leftward trees, only a couple of feet from the water.

The Great Awakening

Only several seconds after standing up, I stepped knee deep into the water. I was instantly enraged!

At over a thousand meters elevation, it was cold.

It snowed that month.

And so, drunk, hungry, wet and groggy, I began to pack up. At this point my flashlight was still working, and I happened to spot a glimmer of the can of bear spray lying feet away from where I had put down my bag prior to resting.

I picked it up.

It was broken.

I tried putting it back together.

Which also reminds me of my hands at the time, covered in cuts from constantly clearing the makeshift drain in the restaurant dish pit, among other hand injuries sensitive to pepper spray.

I was such a child.

I mean, more of a child than I am now. Though I’m always working to reverse the process.

Two Hours Out

I had already touched my face.

Luckily, you can rinse a certain dab of bear spray from your eye and nostril, but you probably won’t have any water left. Fortunately for me, the bottle was metallic, which made more difference than I’d ever appreciated before that very moment.

The rest of the night is clear in my mind, the drunkenness was no match for the storm of emotions I had going at this point.

Cold, wet, tired, anxious, in pain, starved, dehydrated— I mean, it was all self-inflicted.

I was really coming to regret my decisions following up to that point.

One Hour Out

I became paranoid about dangerous animals, though it was possible they were mostly sleeping by that time — I know mountain lions, at the very least, DO hunt at night.

I shone my flashlight, frantically darting it back and forth across the trees, passing across every shadow and gap in the foliage I could find, hoping to frighten away any threats before it was too late.

My hand was on fire, and I tried relieving it against the cold metal exterior of my water bottle.

At one point, I even thought I could suck the pepper out.

Fortunately, it didn’t upset my insides.

Suddenly, with still a while to go, my flashlight began to fade, this new flicker imparting a quite unnecessary eeriness upon the forest. There was that, but also, my pant leg just wouldn’t dry.

My light died, just as I reached open sky.

By this point, I would soon faintly make out the paved road, trees standing sentries on either side, and the outline of what I then considered our ‘home mountain’ looking down on me.

It was now 04:00— one hour until the housekeeping staff started their shifts.

The relief I felt, in spite of the pain—

Sublime.

Fourteen Hours

The first while I spent glued to the cold water tap, but I horribly needed to sleep. So I tried combinations of whatever was available that I could pour and transport in a large mixing bowl: ice water, milk, vegetable oil—

Eventually I set myself up with the bowl on the lounge floor, beside the sofa, where I could lie down; later, to escape the noise, I tried sleeping with the bowl on the top bunk of my shared room, but that setup was precarious at best; I thus spent much time walking around aimlessly, my hand just casually dipping in and out of the bowl as staff and tourists got on with their day.

Two seconds of exposure to the air was all it took for the fire to reignite beneath my skin, sometimes flaring up seemingly worse than before.

I can see it now; it was pitiful.

The Missed Shift

Firstly, I’m not one for screwing around with work. Second, the Chef at this location had already made me work through far worse before. I intend to tell of these events at a later date, but recounting these tales doesn’t give me the same joy and satisfaction as with today’s story.

Anyway, I was fortunate to work with some truly amazing people.

Realizing there was no way I’d be putting my mangled hand into hot water that evening, the evening prep cook offered to relieve me.

We worked six day weeks, eleven hour shifts.

He lost his only night off for me that week, and I’ll never forget it.

To this day, I feel appreciation for all their support. I haven’t spoken to any of them in much time… this often saddens me. And all the while, the pine beetle decimates the forests…

Pork Belly

Almost as if on purpose, my hand healed, precisely just as my shift would have started. Amazing.

Well, I’d never before had the opportunity to try the restaurant, so a few of us got together and we reserved a table.

I ordered the pork belly, the most expensive item on the menu by a long shot… and it was sublime. It’s too bad the Chef treated people so poorly. I almost lost a hand because of him… though to be fair, it was my decision to return in the first place.

Moral

A story which activates positive brain chemicals is an invaluable asset for your mental-health and general longevity. It’s not about what you were feeling at the time, but what you feel about it in the present moment.

Many if not all of my favorite stories rely on the fact that I was in pain or just not happy at a given time. At least for many of the memories that came after my teenage years.

Now I’m 27, and I’m still creating new positive memories based on things that kind of suck. Of course there are still negativities which can overcome me for a moment here and there, but nothing extreme.

As pandemic experiences go, I would be wrong not to appreciate my life right now; I’d be even more wrong not to appreciate it in the future.

I’m also never touching a broken can of bear spray ever again.

Outro

Thank you sincerely for reading, you are very much appreciated to me.

If interested in finding out how I deal with stress, you can check out this funky little article on altering brain states with a couple simple techniques for activating your creative mind.

Have a nice day and a good night!

But wait!

What about the party? What was that about?

They had just never gone out that way, and once they were off premises, that was that. It’s what many situations come down to. It’s just the way things go.

Alright, now you enjoy your life for me, please :)

Cheers!