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In the outdoors, women prefer Bears over Men

Melensdad

Jerk in a Hawaiian Shirt & SNOWCAT Moderator
Staff member
I dunno. I do think that men can be evil. I think we can be pigs. Primitive and primal. But we can also be nice.

This woman, chooses bears. Apparently many others do to. There are lots of "memes" on the inter webs lately about women and bears. This woman, after being in a bear den with 2 heavily sedated bears, says bears are better. But they were sedated, so???

I just don't get it.


I've spent time with bears and men. In the woods, I'd rather run into the bear.

Once upon a time, I got to lie between two bears in their winter den. Given the choice, I'd rather run into one of them in the woods.

The “man vs. bear debate,” in which women contemplate which one would make the better companion in the woods, has recently taken TikTok by storm. To the surprise of some men, women have leaned heavily in favor of the bear.
Once upon a time, I got to lie between two bears in their winter den on a high snowy mountaintop in Colorado. Stomach on snow, rocks above, both arms outstretched so as to touch each bear. Talk about magic.
This female bear and her yearling had been tranquilized by the state vet, a woman who was standing at my feet, outside of the small outcropping of rocks that constituted the bears’ den, encouraging me to hurry up. But I did not hurry up. Because there were these bears, large and strong and huffing, stomachs rising with breath, wild and real, and I was sandwiched between them. I remember closing my eyes with pure joy, listening to us all breathe.
All this was for a book I was writing – "Great Colorado Bear Stories" – and I’d offhandedly asked some researchers if I could accompany them on their trip to get the GPS collar off the female, since the study they’d been conducting was now over. (It never ceases to amaze me what authors get to do if they just ask.)
We’d just spent the entire day snowshoeing up a very steep mountainside, the most exhausting day of my life, since the snow was what we call "rotten," and the snowshoes kept sinking into feet of snow. I had injured my knee and hip, I could tell, and I’d cried quietly during the last few hours of the expedition.

Most bears are nice – and so are most men

But then, the bears. After they’d jabbed a tranquilizer dart and retrieved the GPS collar and taken blood and hair samples, they let me climb in. Why? I don’t know. Because I asked, and because outdoors people are nice.
You know who else is nice? The men in my life. They’re all fabulous, thoughtful, gentle creatures, I tell you. They are doing the world good. My partner, my son, my friends.
But once upon a time, there were two who were not, one resulting in a scar in my forehead, it meeting an open car door, and another who scarred my heart with a shocking loss of temper.
For those two reasons, I pick the bear.
So would Ammalie, the main character in my book "Three Keys," as she embarks on a solo journey across the planet. Safety is a big concern of hers – let’s face it, only a naive person wouldn’t care. She’s got pepper spray, a loud alarm, and she’s got her wits. She may be lost, but she’s not stupid. She’s prepared for wild animal or for human animal, she doesn’t know, though she’s aware it’s the second that she’s most afraid of.
And sure – it’s a novel, after all! – she gets into trouble. But it’s not man or bear that gets her. It’s her own anxious psychology, her own isolation, and her own lost-ness that is the real danger. This is why she bravely sets forth on this journey, ready to encounter bear or man, because, perhaps, the most dangerous thing of all is to live a small life, one you were not proud of.
That day in the den, with my cheek on snow, I closed my eyes and listened to my breathing and their breathing. I smelled bear scent – surprisingly good, I’m happy to report, although it was freezing and perhaps I was too exhausted to have my nostrils do their work.
Eventually, I backed out, stood up, and turned to face the group of scientists, a bunch of strangers, all of us on a remote mountain.
I was in the woods with men, women and bear, and it all turned out great. Night was coming and so we slid down the mountainside on our avalanche shovels, which is not as fun as it sounds. That night, alone in my cold hotel room, I surveyed my cuts and bumps and bruises and swollen knee.
Yup, I sobbed. But it wasn’t because either bear or man had scared me. I cried because it had been one of the best days of my life. It had been exhausting and had pushed me to my limits. I was living the life I wanted to, and there is a certain amount of pride in that.
Laura Pritchett is the author of seven novels and two books of nonfiction, including her latest novel, "Three Keys." She has been awarded the PEN USA Award for Fiction, the High Plains Literary Award, the Milkweed National Fiction Prize, the Colorado Book Award, the WILLA Fiction Award, and shortlisted for many others.
 
Here's something I've been saying to friends...

If a woman is standing on a bridge, and at one end a bear is running towards her, and at the other end a man is running towards her, I know of no sane woman that would still choose to go to the bear. Every female I know, would choose the man.
 
Here's something I've been saying to friends...

If a woman is standing on a bridge, and at one end a bear is running towards her, and at the other end a man is running towards her, I know of no sane woman that would still choose to go to the bear. Every female I know, would choose the man.
Assuming, of course, she can catch up with him. If he is today's male, with a manbun and piercings, afraid of guns, he might likely be running away

Her chances were better 30 years ago.
 
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