Snow + Roads = Disaster?

            Snow will soon overtake our streets and highways, which means tow truck companies are going to be very busy hauling vehicles out of ditches and medians. If your vehicle were to hit a patch of black ice and slide off the road into a small gorge, how prepared would you be? Take this quick test to find out:

1.     Is your gas tank above half full?

2.     Does your heater work?

3.     Do you have spare water somewhere in your vehicle?

4.     Is your vehicle equipped with flares or some other attention-grabber?

5.     Do you keep extra items of warm clothing in your vehicle?

If you were able to answer “yes” to all of these, you are free to stop reading this article and move on to something more interesting. If you answered “no” to at least three, though, there is one final question in the test:

6.     Is your last will and testament in order?

            This test comes in handy not only after you find yourself at the bottom of a ravine, but also if you’re stuck on a freeway during a whiteout blizzard. Quickly falling snow can easily bring freeway traffic to a standstill, especially if an accident is already blocking one or two lanes. Throughout the past few decades, storms across the United States have shut down whole sections of highways, stranding motorists, and making it all but impossible to clear the roadway. Emergency crews have had to brave icy conditions to reach motorists who are in desperate need of more gas to keep their cars running and warm, as well as water and other necessities.

            Do yourself a favor and be prepared for that scenario. Sure, your quarter-tank of gas may last you five to six hours idling, but what if you’re stranded for 24 hours or more? And besides water, you may want to have a snack or two tucked away somewhere, just in case. Luckily for me, my little boy drops bits of his graham crackers and other treats in the back seat of my car. The best-case scenario for a winter slide-off or freeway stranding would be that you are returning from a grocery-shopping trip. You wouldn’t even have to worry about the ice cream; you would simply place it right outside your door.

            I’ve only been worried once in my life that I wasn’t going to make it home during a blizzard. I was nearing the top of Parley’s Canyon, slightly past the Jeremy Ranch exit. Traffic was moving at about an inch per minute and all I could see ahead of me was a sea of snowflakes and steadily blinking taillights. Even though I had a vehicle that could have probably made it up the hill in less than five minutes, all the semis and vehicles without chains or snow tires were completely clogging the road. Suddenly a 20-minute trip down to Salt Lake was turning into a potential overnight debacle. All I could imagine is that it was gridlock the whole way down the canyon.

            I wasn’t prepared at all for that blizzard. Fortunately for my passengers and me, it only took two hours to reach our destination, but if it had taken longer, I’m sure we would have quickly run out of gas and any sort of food or water that we had had in the car. The amazing thing is, we were on a roadway with 200 or more other people, and most of us were more than likely ill prepared for the little blizzard that struck with a big fury. 200 people and not enough resources spell disaster. Be prepared this season and make sure your vehicle contains the necessary elements for survival. Hopefully you won’t have to use them, but you’ll be happy you have them if you do.

Interview With a Bear

            As you begin to slip into a turkey-induced mini coma this Thanksgiving, allow me to help the process by offering you this mind-numbing interview I conducted with a native Utah black bear about hibernation. If you aren’t fully unconscious by the middle of the interview, eat more turkey and hope for the best. Enjoy!

GE: Tell me, what is it like to hibernate for five months or so during the winter months?

BB: Well, first, if I may, let me dispel a common misconception you humans have about us bears and our behavior. Most of us bears wouldn’t lump ourselves in with common rodents and say we hibernate. We call it denning.

GE: What is the difference?

BB: Most hibernators experience a drop in body temperature that is close to freezing. We bears only lose maybe 12 degrees, leaving us ready to spring into action if danger presents itself. One does not simply walk into a bear’s den in the middle of winter and poke it with a stick. Also, our metabolism doesn’t decrease quite like hibernators experience. In essence, we are entering a period of prolonged deep sleep, from which we can easily awaken if necessary.

GE: Forgive me for sounding dumb, but I always thought hibernating was just that: deep sleep.

BB: (Laughs.) An animal’s body undergoes several small changes during hibernation to ensure that the animal can survive months in below-freezing temperatures. The process does not only entail sleep. Hibernators often wake in order to raise their body temperatures, eat, and dispose of waste. The most effective way I can describe the difference between denning and hibernation is denning bears are like lethargic humans sitting in front of their televisions: conserving their energy and only moving when absolutely necessary. Hibernators are technically frozen and have short spurts of activity in-between sleeping bouts.

GE: OK, so now that we’ve specified the main difference between hibernating and denning, what is it like to “den?”

BB: Imagine curling up next to a fireplace after eating an extravagant meal. You’re warm, comfortable, without a care in the world. It’s like that, except without the fireplace.

GE: Since you can’t curl up next to a fireplace, where is the next best place for you to den?

BB: In my many travels, I have come across caves that have provided me with suitable accommodations during the winter months. I prefer exceedingly cramped quarters, which I like to call a “nook.” I can’t stand sleeping sprawled out.

GE: What do you tend to dream about?

BB: For the past three years I have had a recurring dream. I guess you could call it a nightmare. I’m walking out in the forest during the summer enjoying the warm weather when I suddenly become very self-conscious. At first I can’t put my finger on it, but then I look down and I’m wearing pants! It’s awfully embarrassing and I quickly look about to see if any elk or moose are snickering at me. Instead, thousands of rabbits appear and demand that I give them horsy rides. Without waiting for my approval, they begin climbing on my back and I am rapidly crushed under their weight. That’s about when I wake up.

GE: Well, black bear, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me. I wish you luck in finding the perfect nook this winter season.

BB: Thank you and it was my pleasure.

Shaking the Cold

            The alarm is going off and my recently unconscious brain is trying to figure out which direction the noise is coming from. Once located, the real ordeal begins: How do I turn it off without exposing my arm to the cold air outside the toasty cocoon of blankets enveloping me? I lower the thermostat in my bedroom at night to save on utility costs, but it definitely makes getting out of bed a difficult task. Finally the desire to stop the annoying beep-beep-beep-beep wins out and I reach over and silence the alarm.

            Mornings for me are always a fun experience, mostly because the decisions that I made the night before seem so distant and irrelevant and/or silly after I wake up. Like the decision I made last night to go running this morning. I usually run at night, but I’m trying to wake up earlier so my mornings aren’t rushed. This morning the idea seems inane. I can barely stand the thought of uncovering one arm, let alone dragging my whole body out of bed in order to go exercise outside where it is guaranteed to be 30-40 degrees colder than my room.

            At this point, the guilt-trip side of my brain is finally waking up and it begins reminding me that I promised myself I would go running this morning. It asks me to think about what people would say if they only knew that I couldn’t even hold true to promises I made to myself. That thought pattern is luckily interrupted by the macho part of my brain; the part that says, “Man, you can do anything. Shoot, a little cold isn’t going to keep you from kicking some royal butt out there this morning. You’re a winner. Those sidewalks and gravel paths don’t stand a chance against you. Come on! Get up! Let’s do this!” Nothing like a pep talk to yourself.

            So I get up. I creep over to my closet and grab my running shoes, socks, sweat pants, and thick hoodie. After dressing I do my stretches inside. Sure, I’m pumped up to go running outside, but why be out in the cold longer than I have to? I open the front door and breathe in the crisp, frozen air. It sends a thrill through my body and I jump off the porch and hit the sidewalk running.

            I’m glad I got up this morning to do this. The last time I went running in the morning was over 14 years ago, when I was still in high school. Before I know it, the warm, fuzzy memories of my cross-country running days slowly work their way down the back of my neck and spread downward into my whole body, warming everything. The smell of the untouched morning air is exactly as I remember it, and the haloed street lights are just as cheerful and happy to light my way as they were back in the day.

            Running in the morning isn’t as bad as I imagined it would be as I laid there earlier deciding if I should hit the alarm or let it run its course. My fond memories are soon joined by thoughts about the rest of the day, and for the most part they are optimistic and invigorate me. I’m really looking forward to checking items off my to-do list today. Within a few minutes the cold is nothing but a relief to my burning lungs. Looks like I’ll be doing this more often.

Poachers Beware!

            Before you read this article, do yourself a favor and search the keywords “Chuck Testa” on the Internet. I promise this article will make 23% more sense if you do.

            Hunting season is well under way, which means Utah’s mountains are crawling with bright orange people in search of an animal to kill. Humans are braving cold temperatures, wild beasts and uncomfortable air mattresses in exchange for a chance to take home a pile of meat and a trophy for the man cave at home. The hunting experience is an exciting break from ordinary life and offers people the chance to use that gun which is normally locked in a glass case, which sits in the hallway, for most of the year.

            Imagine waking up at 5:30 am in order to bag the perfect buck. An hour later you’re wedging yourself between a pine tree’s trunk and a jagged boulder when you hear a noise and look up. In the little bit of light that is available, you’re able to make out the shape of a deer about 25 yards away, and by the looks of it, it’s at least a 4-pointer. Surprisingly, the buck wasn’t scared off by all the noise you made trying to get somewhat comfortable among all the branches and rocks. Without hesitating you level your rifle, take aim, and pull the trigger. There is no way you’re going to let this one go. Amazingly, despite the fact that the buck remained completely still while you aimed, it is right where it was before you took the shot. At first you think your sight is off, but then you realize that the buck is still standing there, even after all the noise your rifle just made.

            It’s then you hear another noise from a few yards to the right of the buck. A man all dressed in orange steps out from behind a tree and says, “You probably thought this deer was alive. Nope! It’s not. Just Chuck Testa.” Slowly it dawns on you that you’ve been had by a master taxidermizer, perhaps the best the world has ever known. You shake your head and begin laughing, but then Chuck continues in his monotone drawl, “You should have waited another half an hour. Official sunrise isn’t for another hour. You shot too soon. Now I have to take you in for poaching.”

            This may sound like a complete work of fiction, which it is, but it has happened to real people. Not the Chuck Testa part, but the part about shooting a deer that is simply a decoy to nab poachers. The Division of Wildlife Resources sometimes uses lifelike, robotic deer that can help them catch people that are not playing by the rules. So poachers beware! The next deer you shoot could be full of wires and made of plastic, but it will cost you a fleshy arm and leg (not literally, of course, but close).

            Even if you have a tag, there’s a chance you could still become a poacher. Trespassing, shooting from your vehicle, using a prohibited weapon, and hunting between a half an hour after sunset to a half an hour before sunrise are all illegal and will earn you the label of a poacher. The point of having hunting rules and regulations is so that the hunting experience is as fair as possible for everyone involved. Watch out for the next time you come across a buck that seems too good to be true. Could just be a Chuck Testa taxidermy special.