Stamped: August 14th, 2006 | Toggle Similar
Tagged: chocolate, dating hijinks, folklore, food, literature and smut.

So, I was in the woods yesterday. Me and my boyfriend, James, found a nice state park off the Taconic Parkway and kicked his truck into four wheel drive. You see, it was one of those parks that's mainly for hunters and trail bikers and stuff. It's just lots and lots of acres of woods, some of which you can drive through for camping, day trips, etc. We'd brought our little grill, some yummy food, and a book on tape to take in the gorgeous Upstate NY weather.

Now, here's the thing. A few months ago, when it was all the craze, the two of us had seen that documentary about the retarded boy in Alaska that got eaten by a bear. Grizzly Man is the name of it; the dude that got eaten is Timothy Treadwell. I actually highly recommend the film to everyone. It's, um, entertaining. In this movie, there's one bear in particular that is "befriended" by this moronic man of the woods; its name is Mr. Chocolate. Without getting too far into my backstory here, I'll point out that the book on tape we'd brought was none other than A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson. For those of you that haven't read it, the novel is the account of the author's attempt to hike the Appalachian Trail with his out-of-shape college buddy. The opening few chapters include detailed accounts of people who are attacked in the woods. Of course, the cover also has a cute picture of an ostensibly benign grizzly.

Aww. It's Mr. Chocolate! I said to James. He laughed politely and continued to unload the truck. Then, thanks to that inconceivable map of memories charted through my brain, I remembered that Brick Tamland line from Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy: "I read somewhere their periods attract bears. Bears can smell the menstruation." I mean, not that the situation was applicable, but still. I'm a chick, right? Who's to say that thing won't be able to smell my phermones or some shit!? Trying to move on, I repeated the line for the amusement (more like annoyance) of my boy, while also reporting that I would officially handle Mr. Chocolate Patrol. I'm sure he was more than grateful.

So, as we sat and ate our cheeseburgers, we listened to Bill Bryson retell the account of a family that had, like us, barbequed some meat for dinner, properly secured the food a hundred feet away from the campsite before going to bed, and then awoke in the middle of the night to the youngest of their party being dragged away and eaten by none other than a cute little Mr. Chocolate.

Heh. I held my burger mid-bite. What was that?

James humored me. I'm pretty sure it was a bird.

Five mintues later, another account of a pair of hikers being attacked, and another crack in the surrounding forest. And that?!

His patience was wearing. He sighed audibly and proclaimed it was probably a fucking squirrel or something!

I tried to calm myself. Bears are nocturnal anyway, right?

He shook his head. No. He went back to eating his fragrant beef.

I managed to pass about a half hour of time without worrying too much about our certain demise by the jowls of a lovely black bear. Or, by some sick twist of fate, a non-native Grizzly that had managed to escape from a local zoo. But then…more noise. Different noise. It was a steady crack of underbrush this time. It didn't stop and it was certainly coming our way.

James?! I looked around, ready to bolt through the 12″x10″ rear window of his truck for safety.

Before he could answer, a mountain biker emerged from a trail directly in front of us, gave a friendly hello, and continued on his merry non-bear-fearing way.

Yeah, how 'bout we pack up. This man always knows exactly what I want. I so love him.

Sounds great. I'll take care of the meat.

On a side note, go check out One D at a Time and her video titled "From The Space Between My Legs." It is a disturbing, yet somehow hilarious instructional video about menstruation.

Last 5 posts by Jenna

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