So on the topic of bears:

My first encounter with a bear was at the Granby zoo. I have no idea how old I was. My father took me...I wore a beautifully tailored jacket made my by grandmother who made all of my clothing. I probably wore something else but I remember the jacket because I have the Granby Zoo picture of me in it. My grandmother made all of my clothing including my first bathing suits. Those she made out of pure linen lined with cotton. No wonder I never learned how to swim well enough to get those awards that everyone else was getting. One leap into the water and I sank. Linen absorbs water.

I remember my first store bought bathing suit. I have a picture of me in that one too. It was really ugly but a miracle of flotation in the water.

Back to the bears. We were feeding the brown bears and one accidentally nipped me. My father was upset which upset me. My grandmother had described the effects of lock jaw and my father had heard of rabies. The zoo keeper calmed us down and gave me a band aid. Lock jaw has never been an issue with me.

I stole my next encounter. A friend who worked up North for the summer claimed that they always knew where the bears were because as they ate berries, they would hum. You could hear the bears humming! I don't know if she ever met a bear...but I hold to this day the image of the humming, contented bears.

On yet another trip to Tofino, a friend and I went for a walk in the rain forest after being warned by the rangers that if we saw blue bear scat...or bear blue scat...or blueberry scat...we were to turn back. Five steps onto the trail and there it was! Beautiful blue bear scat. I had this theory that if the bear had found berries, he wouldn't be interested in us. My friend suggested that he might want to protect his berries from us. We left...but I stopped for a moment to see if I could hear him humming. My second theory was that if we couldn't hear him humming, he had moved on. My friend didn't buy it.

In Manning Park another friend and I were out hiking and taking photographs. (I seem to run through friends at a great rate.) She is a real photographer complete with tripod. I point, shoot and fix on the computer. She had set up her tripod in an Alpine field. I was puttering and dreaming...and then I heard it. A distinct humming. I looked at my friend. She is terrified of spiders. Do I tell her? I do have a bear bell with me. Instead I say: What do you think that humming is? She's busy...but the humming is really quite loud.

Finally she looks and says: It's probably an owl.

Do I say: Owls don't hum.

Do I say: Are you ready to abandon your tripod.

If the truth be known, I really want to see the bear...until I remember that the people at our campsite had talked about this being the season when the grizzlies come down to feed on berries. Someone else once said: Do you know how to tell the difference between brown bear scat and grizzly scat?

I didn't.

Grizzly scat has bear bells in it.

Did I mention that my friend is passionate about her photos?

Fortunately she got the satisfactory picture and began packing up her tripod.

Fortunately a family happened along the trail...loudly.

We left...but the humming was still there.

So when I heard the young Canadian luge athlete comment on the fact that the bears were checking out the slid, I understood completely his concern. It is true. The Canadian uniforms are salmon coloured and any bear worth his salt would choose an over sized salmon to a bush of blue berries.