Start with the old lady gets on the train in East Glacier. He has the look and smell of those has recently been struggling with an animal in an advanced state of decomposition.
"Where you headed?" he asks.
"West Glacier - the National Park," I say, trying not to inhale too deeply.
"Hmmm ... You hear about the jogger who got mauled there last week?"
" mauled?"
"Maul" is a verb very little reassuring. It is very often used in conjunction with the phrase "to death", and it is not coincidence that he never subject animals such as lamb, fish or red squirrels. It 's a word that conjures up images of furious beasts committed to tear their prey before devouring. Suggests mainly lions, tigers or bears * angry, and all things considered I'd rather that never appear in any sentence containing my name.
The old is already talking about another guy who, just days before the jogger was "Seriously mauled" by a grizzly bear.
"Seriously mauled?" So there is a higher degree of savaged the already very undesirable "mauled" ...
"Yeah, You Should Have Seen the pictures of the guy's face. Like something out of a horror film. The bears are very active at the moment - Are not there many huckleberries around. "
" I see ... "And if these bears very active in me sees an attractive alternative to the berries? I'm getting up to go to look for the controller - maybe I can change my ticket to go on to Seattle - when the train slows and reaches an ad.
"West Glacier! We are now Arriving at West Glacier Station! Any passengers leaving the train here ... "The controller chuckling to himself. "... Any passengers leaving the train here Should Make Sure They Have Their belongings to bear and Their rifles with Them. Have a nice day! "I do
courage and go downstairs. The place is wonderful: there is the forest and the mountains all around, the air is clean and the sunset looks like a painting. Does not drop another one.
The train starts again and I look around. Can not see any sign of human life, even the hotel's girl, who had promised to come get me, I see only shadows of the turbaned near the trees over the track, and - with some alacrity - I approach the door of the station. The hinges creak as if they belonged to the huge rusty gate in front of a haunted house in an episode of Scooby-Doo , but within the same. Inside
is no longer a station, although there are still cases of the old ticket office, protected by iron bars. Protected by ??!!.... thing in my mind images of newspapers with headlines suppress enormous mauled BRITISH TRAVELLER IN STATION - THREE BEARS Arrested. The entire area in front of the speakers, which surely once was by the waiting room is now full of shelves filled with books. I take a volume at random. It's called Bear Aware - How to Reduce Your Chances of Being mauled , is 126 pages long and it is terrifying. I take another Bear Encounters - Survivor Statistics. And another: Yogi's Not for cuddling. I start to count the books on bears. While, in the 73rd, I'm reading about a hunter who was half-eaten by a black bear suddenly behind me I hear "grrrrr!"
fast, taking the book as a shield around me. Before me I see a woman smiling.
"You must be Paul," he says. "The bears did not get you yet, then? Come on. The car's outside. "
* maybe not the koala
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