I have a long history with bears that began when I was just six. Let’s just say I almost had a playdate with two bear cubs in Yosemite Valley, on my way to summit the backside of Half Dome with my Dad and a few of his friends. Yes I was six, that was not a typo, and no my Mom was not negligent. She simply trusted my Dad’s mountaineering experience and, I have to believe, really had no idea what summiting the backside of this sheer granite peak really entailed. Anyway, I digress in her defense, but my point is that when I saw the dead bear last week, it took my breath away. Tears filled my eyes and an ache filled my heart. As well, the nearby smells of other dead animals were a bit intense.
We were at my Aunt and Uncle’s house in Cornish, New Hampshire, where my Uncle trades skins for antiquities. He is also, I learned, attracting young apprentices to learn a dying trade - tanning hides. A skill that one day may, I believe, come to be quite important once again. It was quite interesting to watch my reaction as I took in the young men’s hands working feverishly across the bodies, skins, guts of deer and bear. I found myself at once repelled and enthralled. Just the day before, we had gone to visit a local farm so Corbin and my nephews could see the cows being milked. Though the farmers at this small New England dairy were gracious and generally kind with the animals, it still broke my heart to see them in the cages. To watch the methodical shuffling as these giant animals were herded and backed into milking machines . . . daily life until they turn into fillet or ground round.
The contrast to the wild animals caught the following day was stark. These animals had been roaming freely and happily (yes, I am aware of my anthropomorphism here) until the very last second. Though my stomach turned at the smells, I knew there would be no factory outbreak of e coli and no part of these animals would go unused. It is unrealistic, and certainly not desirable for most, to think that we could all go back to eating and clothing ourselves this close to the food chain, but I know too that sustainability will demand that we return to a local food diet. There’s a big part of me that hopes it will also include a return to the respect and gratitude for food that our ancestors once felt. That said, and with all due respect, I still had to decline the offer of bear paw soup.









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