Oregon, 1991
28 Jul
An Oregon black bear falling from a tree after being shot dead in a residential neighborhood near Merlin, Ore., 1991.
A rescued cougar in her cage near Grants Pass, Ore., 1991.
Archive | July 28, 2009
Yellow-Yellow
28 Jul
1,000 pound grizzlies in Yellowstone can’t even get them open, but a small black bear in the Adirondacks named Yellow-Yellow seems to have cracked the BearVault code. Named after the yellow tags in both of her ears, Yellow-Yellow has found away to open the both the BearVault 450, which uses one tab to open the canister, and the BearVault 500, which uses two. And apparently Yellow-Yellow is now teaching other bears too; Campers have reported seeing other bears get into their BearVaults.
Despite her knack for getting into people’s camps and food, Yellow-Yellow, who weighs 350 pounds, is as shy as can be. Ben Tabor, a state wildlife technician who has tracked Yellow-Yellow claims “It would be ridiculous for us to remove Yellow-Yellow at this point. She’s not bold. She doesn’t charge. She steals food but runs away when confronted.”
There’s a pretty amazing story about Yellow-Yellow over at the NYTimes that I highly recommend you read.
Corduroy Mountain
28 Jul
Found out about Corduroy Mountain the other day when I got an email telling me that Cold Splinters had been put on their blogroll. Thanks for that. Peter, the site’s writer, has a real ear for homegrown country rock and the stories that accompany each song are just as fine. Here’s what CM has to say about “Smokies” by Barefoot Jerry:
Barefoot Jerry was an all-star band of Nashville session pros. Friday nights, when the studios closed, these friends would load Ford pickup beds with bags of groceries, instrument cases, and bottles of sour mash. Forty-eight hours of freedom awaited. Tucked in an Appalachian holler was a shotgun shack, its paint peeling from the elements. The men would wheel a piano onto the creaking wood porch, pull out guitars, pass the drink. And so they would play their music, not that of rote producers. Inspired by the living beauty and primal energy of the surroundings, the men wrote “Smokies.” At least that’s what I hope happened.
Go on over and look around. He doesn’t have much up yet, but let’s hope he keeps going. Go Peter. Go.
