Grum's Stories of the Field Part 1

So I was, again, wrong about the syncopation in the Meshuggah song. I spent about 45 minutes analysing various bits of it last night (yes I am insane) and in this section it is in fact the somewhat simpler 4/3 timing (and this time I'm certain). However the three that I suggested are very close together actually. Using common denominators, we get that 4/3 = 160/120, 7/5 = 168/120, and 11/8 = 165/120. I can play it now, thank god. It was really bothering me. I also deciphered a (weak) pattern in a part that sounds entirely random, which was very satisfying. It really bothers me when I don't understand things, and once I do I tend not to forget the understanding... I think this is why I can slack and yet still do ok. I guess that's what my memory is good for, 'cause it's good for little else!

I thought I'd begin a three or four part series today, entitled Grum's Stories of the Field. There are three or four near-death experiences to mention, and while most of you have heard them it has come to my attention that there are those of you that haven't. The first story is the bear attack. If you have heard this story ad nauseum don't blame me if you read it and are bored.

Paul McNeill, for whom I had been hired as the field assistant for the summer, had had to rush home for two weeks as his wife's grandmother had passed away. This left me doing very little in Revelstoke. To occupy me and get some use out of me, Paul Williams (the venerable professor) took me as his field assistant into the fly camp (camp accessed by helicopter) of Stefan Kruse and his field assistant Alice Gillam. There we had a smashing time, meeting a lot of interesting wildlife, like "Penelope", the cute woodrat living in the boulders by the kitchen, who ate beans right out of Stef's hand and was generally unafraid of us. One day we hiked far to the west, all four of us. We didn't bother to bring the shotgun as there were four of us, and there has been no documented bear attack on a group of four or more people. On the way back, however, Stef and I got a bit ahead of Paul and Alice (maybe a minute or so). I was about 5 paces behind him; we were walking along the flank of a mountain, on a relatively steep snow slope. The peak was up to our right, and to our left was a low ridge obscuring our view down the hillside. The ridge ended fairly abruptly and beyond it the view was unobstructed. As Stef passed the end of the ridge he suddenly stumbled backwards up the hill grabbing at his hip (where his bear spray and bear banger were in a holster). I was confused, thinking he had just stumbled, and said "what... what's up?" Two paces later I came into view of downhill, and what I saw caused immediate instinctive reactions within me. A large grizzly bear was running, shockingly fast, up the slope towards us. On another ridge well below her were two large cubs, probably yearlings. Her teeth were bared and she was "huffing" loudly in that way that grizzlies do, to so effectively demonstrate that they are angry, as she pounded up the hill. I took all this in at a glance and without thinking took less than two seconds to unholster, bring out to the front, and pop the safety off my bear spray (my practised record was about 5 seconds). I also feebly raised my aluminium ice axe, ready for some desperate self defence. But by the time I had looked back up from my bear spray, she had turned tail. I saw her disappear over the lower ridge and the cubs followed. At this moment Stef finally managed to get his bear banger to fire, and the firework ascended over where the bear had been, exploding with a deafening bang. Finally he found words and screamed at the others "BEAR, BEAR!!!!!!". I stood, still ready for a fight, shaking a bit. Paul and Alice ran up and after assuring themselves that we hadn't been mauled, examined the tracks (very briefly) before leading us back to camp, as a close group this time. Where she had turned around she had slid more than two metres uphill, indicating a pretty significant speed (but Stef and I knew that already). We figure that she thought "two guys is too many" once I came into view, or maybe it was my red hair. Needless to say we took the shotgun every day thereafter. There's an experience people rarely feel these days, though: the feeling of being the prey, that there is a creature there who can easily kill you, and wants to, and you are almost powerless to stop it. Few events can give you adrenaline like that.

Wow that's a long blog. Sorry to those of you who had better things to do but were riveted and couldn't stop reading. This is the official, unabridged, unembellished version. Oh except for the estimated weight of the bear. That has to increase every time the story is told. By now I'm up to about 1400 lbs. Actually she was estimated by Paul Williams (who's done a lot of tracking) to be between 500 and 800 lbs. That's a lot of angry mammal. Undisputed kings and queens of the mountains I say. I love bears, and feel no resentment or anything, it's their home really, not ours.

Cheers mates!