Doug answered, "unless you make coffee and he smells it. They can smell anything from a mile away."
So much for coffee, Bob thought, then immediately changed his mind. Slipping out of his pack, he got his cup and spoon and plastic envelope of instant coffee out. Pouring some water into the cup, he spooned in some instant coffee powder and sugar and began to stir it. "So I'll have iced coffee," he said.
"Better not clink the spoon too hard," Doug told him. "They have good hearing too."
Bob stirred the coffee mixture as quietly as he could. "Can he hear us talking?" he asked.
"I doubt it," Doug answered. "He's pretty far away. As long as we don't talk too loud."
"Don't worry, I won't," Bob said. He finished dissolving the coffee powder and, removing the spoon, took a sip. "Uh!" His face contorted with distaste. "That's hideous."
Doug only smiled. What do you care? Bob thought. You've already had your hot coffee. What else did you have, a fucking Belgian waffle?
He forced himself to keep sipping the coffee despite its bitter taste. Doug sat silently staring straight ahead. Waiting for me to finish? Bob wondered.
"There aren't any grizzly bears here, right?" he asked.
"Only black," Doug answered.
"How do you tell one from another?" Bob asked, conscious of speaking softly, almost murmuring, so the bear couldn't possibly hear the sound of his voice.
"Grizzlies have big shoulder humps," Doug told him. "And their faces are concave. They're bigger too. Have longer claws."
"Remind me never to meet one," Bob said.
Doug's chuckle was more derisive than amused. "Oh, you'd know if you met one."
"I'd run like hell," Bob said.
"It wouldn't do you any good," Doug told him. "They're too fast."
"So what do you do, just say a prayer and let him slaughter you?"
"Only thing you can do is lie on your stomach, put your hands behind your neck, and pretend you're dead." Doug grunted. "Which you probably would be in less than half a minute anyway."
Bob grimaced at the thought. "Ever see a grizzly?" he asked.
"Several times," Doug answered, "in Colorado. Guy I knew was actually caught by one."
Bob bared his teeth in a reacting wince. "Got killed?"
"Got lucky," Doug said. "Curled himself up into a fetal position and the bear only cuffed him around a few times before leaving."
"Jesus." Bob drew in a shaking breath.
"Of course those few cuffs broke his collarbone and laid his shoulder open to the muscle."
"He died?" Bob asked queasily.
"No, his friends got him to a hospital in time. Left him with a hell of a scar though. And limited use of his right arm."
"I presume he didn't go backpacking anymore," Bob said.
"Sure he did." Doug's tone was casual. "He wasn't going to let a little thing like that keep him from doing what he enjoyed."
"He's a better man than I am," Bob said. "If that happened to me, I'd join a monastery."
"Well, you're a different kind of cat," Doug said. Bob wasn't sure if it was an observation or another dig.
"You'd do the same thing, keep on backpacking?" he asked.
"Why not?" Doug said. "We all have to go sometime."
"Yeah, but I'd rather go in my bed than lying on a forest floor with a grizzly bear cuffing me around."
"To each his own," Doug said.
Bob kept sipping at the coffee, finally eating a cookie with it to improve the taste.
When Doug relapsed into what seemed to him to be glum silence again, he asked, "Are black bears as dangerous?"
Doug drew in a deep breath that seemed to, once more, point out his regret at having made the offer of this hike. Bob was going to say something about it, then decided not to.
"Black bears are different," Doug told him. "More skittish. If one of them comes at you, you yell and throw rocks at it, grab a branch and take swings at it. That'll usually scare them off. I've done that two or three times. Grizzlies they're not."
Bob nodded. "I'll remember that. Assuming I don't faint if I see one coming at me."
Again the ambiguous chuckle but no comment from Doug.
"This
So much for coffee, Bob thought, then immediately changed his mind. Slipping out of his pack, he got his cup and spoon and plastic envelope of instant coffee out. Pouring some water into the cup, he spooned in some instant coffee powder and sugar and began to stir it. "So I'll have iced coffee," he said.
"Better not clink the spoon too hard," Doug told him. "They have good hearing too."
Bob stirred the coffee mixture as quietly as he could. "Can he hear us talking?" he asked.
"I doubt it," Doug answered. "He's pretty far away. As long as we don't talk too loud."
"Don't worry, I won't," Bob said. He finished dissolving the coffee powder and, removing the spoon, took a sip. "Uh!" His face contorted with distaste. "That's hideous."
Doug only smiled. What do you care? Bob thought. You've already had your hot coffee. What else did you have, a fucking Belgian waffle?
He forced himself to keep sipping the coffee despite its bitter taste. Doug sat silently staring straight ahead. Waiting for me to finish? Bob wondered.
"There aren't any grizzly bears here, right?" he asked.
"Only black," Doug answered.
"How do you tell one from another?" Bob asked, conscious of speaking softly, almost murmuring, so the bear couldn't possibly hear the sound of his voice.
"Grizzlies have big shoulder humps," Doug told him. "And their faces are concave. They're bigger too. Have longer claws."
"Remind me never to meet one," Bob said.
Doug's chuckle was more derisive than amused. "Oh, you'd know if you met one."
"I'd run like hell," Bob said.
"It wouldn't do you any good," Doug told him. "They're too fast."
"So what do you do, just say a prayer and let him slaughter you?"
"Only thing you can do is lie on your stomach, put your hands behind your neck, and pretend you're dead." Doug grunted. "Which you probably would be in less than half a minute anyway."
Bob grimaced at the thought. "Ever see a grizzly?" he asked.
"Several times," Doug answered, "in Colorado. Guy I knew was actually caught by one."
Bob bared his teeth in a reacting wince. "Got killed?"
"Got lucky," Doug said. "Curled himself up into a fetal position and the bear only cuffed him around a few times before leaving."
"Jesus." Bob drew in a shaking breath.
"Of course those few cuffs broke his collarbone and laid his shoulder open to the muscle."
"He died?" Bob asked queasily.
"No, his friends got him to a hospital in time. Left him with a hell of a scar though. And limited use of his right arm."
"I presume he didn't go backpacking anymore," Bob said.
"Sure he did." Doug's tone was casual. "He wasn't going to let a little thing like that keep him from doing what he enjoyed."
"He's a better man than I am," Bob said. "If that happened to me, I'd join a monastery."
"Well, you're a different kind of cat," Doug said. Bob wasn't sure if it was an observation or another dig.
"You'd do the same thing, keep on backpacking?" he asked.
"Why not?" Doug said. "We all have to go sometime."
"Yeah, but I'd rather go in my bed than lying on a forest floor with a grizzly bear cuffing me around."
"To each his own," Doug said.
Bob kept sipping at the coffee, finally eating a cookie with it to improve the taste.
When Doug relapsed into what seemed to him to be glum silence again, he asked, "Are black bears as dangerous?"
Doug drew in a deep breath that seemed to, once more, point out his regret at having made the offer of this hike. Bob was going to say something about it, then decided not to.
"Black bears are different," Doug told him. "More skittish. If one of them comes at you, you yell and throw rocks at it, grab a branch and take swings at it. That'll usually scare them off. I've done that two or three times. Grizzlies they're not."
Bob nodded. "I'll remember that. Assuming I don't faint if I see one coming at me."
Again the ambiguous chuckle but no comment from Doug.
"This
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