The Wilderness

Getting settled in to our new homestead requires a bit of redefining the word "walk." Usually I put on my 20-pound vest and go on my 30-40 minute walk. Well, last fall I learned that it's not safe to walk up to the Nat'l Forest any longer. A neighborly fellow walking his dogs gave me the true scoop about the strange people living up there. (I agree. Anybody who calls their place the "Poison Oak Ranch" sounds a bit odd to me.) So . . . that route is out, unless I decide to invest in some concealed weapon, which seems like a bit of overkill (no pun intended).

So I changed my route and decided to stay on the back roads in the woods. Lovely walk! Took the kids and the grandkids when they visited. However, last week when I was on my usual walk in the woods, I ran into the new neighbors (I use the term "neighbors" loosely, as they are probably at least 1/4 mile away) and we chatted. Their first question:
"Do you have bear spray?" (I wonder if it's anything like insect repellent).
"No. Why?"
"We've seen a lot of bear sign lately right around here."
I guess it is fall, and I confess I thought I saw some bear droppings the other day, but . . .

My new acquaintances were quite free with all kinds of local mountain cautions, like:
~ besides the bears roaming around, there is a pack of wild dogs to be on the lookout for. "It was even on the national news," they told me. I don't remember seeing it, but I began to listen even more intently.
~ rumors of a wolf in these parts  (OK, I hear the coyotes occasionally, but really! A wolf?)
~ last winter they had a moose in their front yard.

By now I'm wondering if they are trying to pull the "newbie's" leg, but honestly, they seemed sincere and concerned for my safety. (I was waiting for a cougar sighting, but they didn't say). So we exchanged phone numbers and email addresses and went our separate ways.

So now, my hiking is limited to our 14 acres. Back and forth, around and around I go. Not quite as adventurous as the other routes, but probably wiser.

One good thing . . . my cell phone works at the top of our homestead!