A few weeks ago, my hubby went outside to burn papers. He found a really nice bird feeder right next to our burning barrel, which sits behind the back of our garage.

“Babe, do you know whose bird feeder this is?” he asked.

At this point, it didn’t matter whose it was because it was in shambles. The middle plastic part that once held the birdseed had tiny holes in teeth and was smashed. It had bear evidence all over it.

Now, we live in the country and have definitely had bears around. We get plenty of wildlife in our area, but I can say we have never found someone’s bird feeder in our yard.

It wasn’t my dad’s and wasn’t my brother’s (who are our closest neighbors), so it meant that this bear had to have traveled with this decent-sized bird feeder. It wasn’t a cheap one either. If any of my country neighbors are reading this and had one go missing, it is probably yours. (Sorry!) Black with gold edging on it.

Let’s back up to about thirty years ago when I was literally scared to death of bears. When I was about five or six years old, I was up at our cabin in Blossburg, riding on what we called the apple path. It was just a trail through the woods that led us out to our fields.

I saw a bear to my left as I was riding through this trail on my little yellow Suzuki JR 50. It scared me because I had never seen a bear before! All I could remember is my dad always telling me that they are more scared of you than you are of them unless you get between the momma and her cubs. Seeing this bear scared me. Remember, I was five years old and by myself. My dad was back at the cabin mowing grass. I often ripped my dirt bike out back on the paths, often when Dad went up to mow.

From the surprise of this bear, I stalled my bike out of fright. There I sat in the quiet woods with this bear. I could hear something to my right. My eyes were so locked on the momma that I didn’t notice her three cubs on the right of me on the other side of the path. All I could hear was my dad’s voice telling me not to get between a momma and cubs. All I remember is just starting to bawl my eyes out and trying to kickstart my bike over and over. I looked up and saw the mom walking towards me. It felt like forever before my bike finally started. It may have only been 10 seconds, but it felt like an eternity to a scared five-year-old. I took off as fast as I could go, praying to god I wouldn’t fall and wreck, and this bear mauled me to death, thinking I’d hurt her babies. I also remember turning around to see if she was chasing me, but she didn’t. She just stood there. In my heart of hearts, I truly believe she knew I wasn’t a threat to her babies. I was little myself and just happened to ride between them, not noticing what had happened. This day is still so vivid to me.

For years after this, well, probably decades, I was petrified of bears. As soon as I saw one, my heart would feel like it was pumping out of my chest. I would just freak out. I often had dreams of bears chasing after me, and honestly, I still do every once in a while. Mentally, I think that incident affected me more than I thought. But when I became a mother, I didn’t want to pass this fear on to my kids.

At our cabin, we often see a bear up there or when we go out spotlighting at night. There was a time or two when my kids were with me, and we saw a bear. I took deep breaths and gave myself a pep talk. I had to grin and “bear” it whether I liked it or not. I didn’t want them to feel the fear I have had of bears since I was five years old. Especially since we live with woods behind us. The chances of seeing one is inevitable. Even though I had good reason to be deathly afraid of them, I knew I had to remain calm. I worked on this for years. Deep down, that fear will always be there. My heart drops every time I see one, but I don’t freak out and have a breakdown. I’m proud of myself for how far I have come. Ask anyone in my family. They will tell you how real this fear is.

Well, about a week after finding a bird feeder in our yard, our neighbor Roush Wagner and our son Tyler were out back riding their dirt bikes in our woods.

Ty had been working hard on making new paths with my hubby’s Kubota tractor, moving big trees. He worked really hard at making new berms they could hit and building a jump or two. The boys came back up to the house and said they found fresh bear tracks on the paths that were made.

Ty was like, “Mom, this is no small bear. His paws are huge!” I asked him to take me for a ride out on the four-wheeler and show me. Kenzy and Chris were both in the background saying, “We want to go too!” My adopted son Malachai Nace (Ty’s best friend who spends a lot of time at our house) was with us also, so there we were, Chris, Malachai, Kenz, and myself, out for a ride on the four-wheeler to check out these bear prints. When we got to them, I couldn’t believe how large this bear looked. He had to be a big bear with the size of these prints in fresh dirt.

Sadly, you are going to have to wait two more weeks for the continuation of this story, then I’ll be back with the rest of this story about our bear, Kenzy, named BIG Jeff. Just wait till you hear what he has been up to…

Creamed Cucumbers
Ingredients:
• 10 cups Cucumbers, peeled and thinly sliced
• 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
• 1 1/2 cups sour cream
• 1/2 cup Sugar
• 3-4 Tbsp. Vinegar
Directions:

Put the cucumbers in a large container. Cover the cucumbers with salt water (about 1 tsp salt to 1 cup of cold water). Refrigerate for about 2 hours.

Drain soaked cucumbers, rinse thoroughly and place into a large container with sliced onion. In a separate bowl, stir sour cream, sugar, and vinegar together. Pour dressing over cucumbers and onion. Stir to combine.

Refrigerate salad for several hours overnight. Flavors need time to mingle.