Don't Feed The Bears!

Lawrence is a great story teller.  While cutting his hair today, he relayed the following story about a friend of his, James, that he worked with some years ago.

James was the adventurous type.  In his younger years, he had hitchhiked across Canada.  It was late in the evening and he was having a little trouble getting a ride out of Rivelstoke, British Columbia.  Finally a log truck hauler stopped and picked him up.  The next stop would be the town of Golden, about a hundred miles away,... so he thought. 

The night was chilly and very dark.  About fifty miles down the highway, the driver informed James that this is as far as he's going.  He had to make a left turn, just up ahead, onto an old logging road to connect with the crew who would be loading his truck early the next morning.  He stopped and let him out, said goodbye and wished James well.

As the lights of the truck disappeared, James looked around in complete darkness only to realize that he was stranded, in the Rockies, and out in the middle of nowhere.  The night was so dark, he couldn't see, even his hand in front of his face. 

He somehow got back on the highway and began to walk. To where, he wasn't sure.  But what he was certain of, at that time was, everything around him seemed to be alive.  He heard sounds he'd never heard before, he smelled things he'd never smelled before. Even the gentle wind in the trees, caused goosebumps to appear on his goosebumps.  He felt he was in a dream and couldn't wake up.

Just ahead, he thought he could make out the form of a road sign.  He got a little closer.  Yes!  It's a sign.  Now he'll know where he is.  Because of the gross darkness, he couldn't read what it said.  So he took a match from his pocket, and struck it.  As he stretched out his arm with the lit match between his fingers, he didn't want to believe what he was reading.  It said... "Don't Feed The Bears!" 

"I'm toast!"  he thought to himself.  And as he did, a light from a car up ahead appeared and was coming in his direction.  He waved the guy down, and caught a ride back to Rivelstoke, where he had started three hours ago.  He really didn't care, at that moment, that he was going in the wrong direction.  At least he was safe from all those visions of night crawlers of the Rockies, that by now, were hitched in his memory for a long time to come.