The Bear Story: Requiem for an Ursidae (She didn't die, though!)

It was a dark and stormy night... (Snoopy began all of his novels this way.) Actually, it was a beautiful Sunday morning in early June, 1980. it was time for a 15 mile "easy" run, which meant 17 miles at a brisk pace through the woods, in the tradition of Bruce Baden and John Ziegler, my freshman mentors in 1977. Somehow every "15-miler" then was 2 hours at 6:00 pace, or so it seemed to a skinny, naive newby. (Yeah, I know, I'm still naive, but not skinny!)

I had elected to stay in State College to train "like an animal" over the summer before my senior year, hoping to make a breakthrough that even Coach Groves encouraged. I did set some PR's in the all-comers meets that summer in the mile, 2-mile, 1500 M and 3000 M, weaving in and out of the throngs that participated. I got to live with my brother who was auditing the books at PSU while in the MBA program, (headed by Charlie Maguire at the time!). I lived across the hall from Herb Menhardt who won the NC State game that year with a 56 yard field goal. I was in the best shape in my life and had just PR'ed in the 10 K (A race in which Greg Fredericks lapped me twice with his 28:08 pre-Olympic Trials effort!) I know, quite pitiful indeed, but it's all I have!

That Sunday run was a solitary one, the way I liked it it in those days. I selected the Pine Barrens Loop, always one of my favorites. (It got ruined right after this with the addition of homes at several key places, making a complete loop quite a challenge.) There was many ways to begin the loop, but I selected the path behind the Golf Course to reach Circleville Road. This was before there were even homes behind the golf courses, just fields and woods everywhere. Perfect habitat for deer, foxes and BLACK BEARS apparently. (Ursidae come in just two varieties in the Continental US, black or brown. The famed Grizzly bear is just a brown bear in a certain geographic region.)

As I entered the trail through the woods behind the golf course, I rounded a corner and... WHAM

(Those who read this blog know I am prone to hyperbole, but I'm not making any of this up, nor embellishing any of it!) I ran face first into a bear. Not just into, but INTO a bear. We were face to face, and I saw a red ring around its eyes. (Another person also descibed this red ring to me years later, but I cannot verify what it meant.) At that point I don't remember anything until I came to about 100 yards away, standing on Corl Street. Luckily, at that point Leonard Jansen, the racewalker came down Corl Street and found me there. (He verified every aspect of the story to my wife years later at a running clinic at which we both spoke, making me feel vindicated at last!) I was pale and babbling and he was somewhat amused. I managed to point out the bear to him and told him what happened. By then I was feeling somewhat better, but abandoned my quest for a 15-miler. The bear was last seen heading toward campus, none the worse for our encounter.

After ditching the idea of a run until my knees stopped shaking later in the day, I saw a police car on College Ave. and told him about the bear. He was relieved to find out that the bear was on the golf course, as "that isn't my jurisdiction." He sent me off to tell the campus police, (who also blew me off on similar jurisdictional criteria). (Apparently, murder is OK on the PSU Golf Courses, as police don't cover that part of the world!)

Absolutely no one but Leonard the racewalker believed my story that day (or many days since), but I got a smile on my face the next morning when I saw the Collegian front page. There was "my bear" getting darted out of a tree in front of Old Main, to be relocated to the Game Lands in the Pine Barrens! (I didn't run that route the rest of the summer!)