My father loved to buy cases of bread at Rice's Bakery, and we
loved it when he did. There was nothing as mouth watering as freshly baked
bread with butter and honey or jelly on it, and Rice's Bakery baked delicious
breads.
Back in the
sixties, there were some black bears that were moved from Yellowstone Park and
relocated on Lookout Pass. The move went without any obstacles, but soon an
unforeseen and potentially dangerous situation arose. The bears from
Yellowstone were use to coming up to cars, and they showed no natural fear of
humans or cars. The immigrants from Yellowstone now residing on Lookout didn't
know that they were now suppose to be " wild bears" ,and that cars
and humans were suppose to be off limits.
An unexpected new
tourist site spring up on Lookout Pass when the new arrivals from the Park
began to come down and check out the cars and curious humans who parked and
watched the bears. Hey, we can't blame the bears because as far as I know, they
can't read, and they did not know they were in a wilderness now and not a
national park.
So, what does this
have to do with bread and Rice's Bakery? Well, I will tell you. One late
afternoon my dad, mother, little sister, and my brother and I got in the car
and drove up to the Rice's. Dad went in and bought a case of freshly baked
bread and put it in the truck of our car. Dad turned around and said that he
had been reading about the bears coming down on Lookout, and maybe we would
like to go up and see them. My brother and I gave an overwhelming vote of
approval, so off we headed for Lookout Pass.
We got up on
Lookout, and saw several cars parked by the side of the road. We looked over
and there were three pretty good size black bears coming down the
side of the mountain. Dad pulled our car over, too, and my brother and I, both
sitting in the back seat, trembled with excitement as the bears got closer and
closer.
Then, to our utter
horror, two of the bears started to climb up on our trunk, and one got on the
top of the car. There my brother and I were, face to face with what now looked
like two monsters of Leviathan size.
Why were we the
lucky? ones chosen for this close encounter of the third kind? All of a sudden
dad had a flash of realization. He had forgotten about the fresh bread in the
trunk of the car. The bears were sniffing it out and , and they were
trying their darnedest to open up what must have looked like big tin
can to the them, that we were sitting in.
By that time my
mother was almost hysterical, and I imagine that my brother and I were almost
wetting our britches. Finally, the two bears gave up, climbed down from the car,
and lumbered away and back up the mountain. Breathing a collective sigh of relief,
my dad started the car, and back down the hill to Wallace we went.
To this day every
time that I eat freshly baked bread, I expect to see a bear or two appear.
1 comment:
oh wow, what a story........ when me and me lad were in Maine 5 or so years back now, we were driving to New Hampshire when a bear walked across the road in front of our car, the people we were with stopped and my lad and the people (not me lol) jumped out the car and began to follow the bloody thing up the road to take photos..... wtf... didnt they know they aint all soft and cuddly x
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