MARTHA SEZ: ‘They venture out to maraud and lay waste to human property’
This fall, many Adirondackers are concerned about “the Enemy From Within.”
That’s right. I’m not talking about foreign invaders here. I’m talking about Adirondack natives — although it is certainly possible that many of them are descended from ancestors who crossed our Northern border, coming down from Canada at some point.
These individuals — for the purposes of this column I will refer to them henceforth as the EFW — are generally inconspicuous. We may be unaware of their presence in our midst as we go about our daily business, visiting the grocery store, the transfer station, the post office or the Keene Valley VPO at the hardware store. But they are here nonetheless, all around us, and if you don’t believe me you are living in a fool’s paradise.
Those who are paying attention will notice that the EFW tend to disappear entirely from the scene just after Thanksgiving — but not before they have caused considerable chaos and mayhem.
When will we feel safe filling our bird feeders again? When can we enjoy that basic human right — to put out our garbage in peace without having to safeguard it under lock and key as if our trash were the world’s most precious commodity?
While we do not think much about it as we drive along in our cars or trucks or recreational vehicles or three-wheelers or golf carts or snowmobiles or whatever, the hamlets and villages we live in are mere islands in the great Adirondack Park. If you were to stand atop Mount Marcy or fly high overhead in a helicopter or take pictures with a military-style drone, you would get some idea of how surrounded we are by the immensity of the wilderness. To put it simply, the fact is we underestimate how out-numbered we are because we literally cannot see the forest for the trees.
According to the state Department of Conservation, of the 4.9 million acres of land the department manages, close to 3 million acres are classified as Forest Preserve. Comprised of 2.7 million acres in the Adirondack Park and, in the much smaller area of merely 288,000 acres within the Catskill Park — much smaller, yes, but still large enough to hold a lot of bears — the Adirondacks and the Catskills comprise a majority of all state-owned property.
The forests are the natural home of black bears. From there, they venture out to maraud and lay waste to human property.
I mentioned the Keene Transfer Station, which I always refer to as “the world’s most scenic dump.” There was a time before modernization when the transfer station actually was a garbage dump, a big pit where community domestic rubbish was jettisoned. In those days, citizens used to gather at dusk to watch the bears who, attracted by the smell of decomposing food, pillaged the pit.
Due to the civilizing influence of good leadership, hard work and government grants, those days are gone. The bears no longer frequent the Keene Transfer Station grounds, but they have not gone far. Considered dangerous, black bears are among the region’s most elusive animals, and they tend to avoid humans.
In New York State, black bears (Ursus americanus) are the second largest mammal, after the moose. Standing upright on its hind feet, a black bear is from five to seven feet tall. Most of New York state’s black bear population is located right in the Adirondack Park.
Black bears are powerful creatures. Did you know that a black bear can sprint as fast as 30 mph? That’s as speedy as a hippo, world’s most dangerous animal. Hippos kill 500 people a year in Africa, and that is just the number reported. They also have large claws (bears, not hippos), allowing them to climb up trees. Not content with running and climbing, black bears are strong swimmers too.
All of which points to the fact that you wouldn’t want to get a bear mad at you. Luckily, they can’t read. But you wouldn’t want to be lugging a delicious-smelling sack of Halloween candy or slicing a fragrant Thanksgiving turkey anywhere a black bear may be lurking.
During the year, black bears are active from late spring to late fall. Then, around the middle of November, when food is scarce, they begin to search for a den for upcoming winter hibernation. After Thanksgiving, if we make it that long, we should be safe from the EFW, at least until spring.
Have a good week!
(Martha Allen, of Keene Valley, has been writing for the News since 1996.)