Webster Art

There have been bear warning signs up all summer at Squamish. They described an aggressive bear that was dragging packs away from climbers. We were joking about it on previous trips but this time it was no joke.

C. was top roping an 11 and had just arrived at the anchors when the bear ambled into view on the trail 30 feet away. We’d heard it was nearby from other climbers who had mentioned it was near but minding its own business.

Because I was belaying I had nowhere to go. I could have climbed up the rope with the grigri, but the bear would have easily caught me. Instead, like any self respecting tourist, I got out my phone and took pictures. It seemed to not see me or the other climber behind me. It couldn’t have missed us, it simply had no interest in us.

But C.’s pack clearly smelled tasty because it dragged it a few feet towards some bushes. C. saw her pack getting mauled from the anchors 60 feet up and threw a quickdraw. The bear was used to thrown things and did not react. I was told later that running toward it with bear spray would have been bad.

About 7 people were in the area (Free and Easy, Smoke Bluffs) and all were shouting “Hey Bear!” I kept shooting pictures. It was nerve-racking being trapped in a corner with the bear out front. An apex predator of that size is not part of my normal day. C. later said she wasn’t concerned about me at all. Rather she was worried about her new backpack.

Good duck hunting dogs are trained to swim out and retrieve ducks using a ‘soft mouth’ so they don’t damage the meat. The bear must have learned early on that human food is better when it isn’t mangled. Her pack was covered in bear slobber but no holes.

At camp that night I played Piano Man all the way through. I’ve mastered the harmonica parts and my guitar harp brace works great. I was dimly aware of some headlamps in the next campsite. C. was singing with me in her clear perfectly pitched soprano voice. At the finish we heard clapping and a loud: “That was awesome guys, holy shit!!”

C. later said that she’d never seen me so happy. I guess the neighbors applause was just what I needed. She asked me if I had ever wanted to be a performing artist and I admitted that I had.

My unicycle journey has been mixed. I have some residual cramping and popping going on in my right knee. I don’t know what it is, but it could be Long Covid PMR. It hurts a bit sometimes though it’s also prone to vanish. We’ve been driving to a local grade school where there is a long sidewalk along a cyclone fence. But that is only 50 meters.

I’ve been focusing on a perfect start off the fence. That means well balanced and in control as I start moving. But today I drove to where there is a sidewalk with a quarter mile of fence. It’s on an inlet into the harbor. Best of all it’s sort of a lost bike path, meaning most people don’t even know it’s there because the entrances aren’t obvious.

I got on that today and saw the fence and asphalt stretching out before me with no people anywhere, just some seagulls. I spent at least half an hour falling repeatedly, barely pedaling 40 feet. I couldn’t find my groove and considered giving up. But I remembered that speed is your friend.

But to get up to speed you can’t fall off during liftoff. So I thought, maybe a flawless start isn’t important. Maybe I need to start wildly and just fight for it, flailing arms and all. And that worked. I launched off the fence left side, which I hate, and just flailed chanting “fight for it, fight!!” Soon I was reaching cruising speed (a fast walk) and could relax a little.

There is a whole other set of skills involving cruising: things like balancing weight between pedals and seat, leaning forward, holding hands down to sides…and waiting for the groove. Sounds weird to say that but if you’ve ever pursued excellence in a tricky sport like windsurfing, speed skating, climbing, you’ll know what the groove is. It’s also called getting in the zone.

A few days ago I went out after the rains and rode the entire length of the boat house bike path several times, once without stopping. As I left I looked uphill toward the skybridge. I’ve never ridden uphill but gave it a shot. Surprisingly, uphill is more stable because you have to push hard on every pedal stroke. Who knew? On the level you have to balance forward and back pedaling, but uphill it’s all forward pushing. This means you can focus on leaning forward, pushing hard, while also going slower. It’s a win win. My 45 year old badly healed broken ankle complains after each long ride. It doesn’t like all the jumping off at speed. That pain is the same reason why I don’t like pickleball.

When I skate no one ever says anything to me. Skaters are common down there and there are some extremely graceful skaters. One young woman is a goddess on skates. I’m just a clumsy old man exercising. But on my unicycle I’m a one off. People stop me every time I go out. They exclaim that it looks really hard, I’m super brave, did I know I’m missing a wheel?

Yesterday, I rode past a woman in her 50’s. I got about 60 feet past her before doing a moving dismount. This means I stepped off at walking speed, running a few steps while the uni tumbled to a stop behind me.

“That was a great push there, nice effort!”

“Oh, thanks, it’s a scary sport!”

“What made you want to try such an unusual sport? I’ve never seen a unicycle.”

“Oh, I guess it was because my brother was able to ride one when I was 10. But I couldn’t figure it out. I promised myself I’d try it eventually; like a bucket list thing. I’m retired now and have the time to try weird sports.”

“Well, congratulations! I’m sure by next summer you’ll have it in the bag and be cruising all over.”