Et encore, au revoir

In October of 1998, the Red Sox lived up to our expectations, but not our hopes, and bowed out in the division series, and the enemy Yankees won it all, again. We were not to know that young Leo would not grow up with the same sense of futility that plagued generations of baseball-loving bears, who were always certain that the ultimate loss was looming somewhere ahead. (East Coast bears are nearly all Sox fans,though there are a few who cheer for the Phillies. In the Midwest, Cubs fans naturally predominate. For them, the futility persists as of this writing.) But I digress.

With baseball season behind us, the time had come for my farewells; there was no longer a need for television access, (except on Sundays, and Monday nights) and my journey lay ahead. Mum baked some supplies for the road, and I found myself once more bidding good bye to loved ones and setting forth for a look at the world.

Last minute preparations

I lingered at Mum's through the baseball playoffs. I couldn't pass up a trip to the market for pumpkins and gourds and apple pie. I worked in the gardens, and helped young Leo with his studies ( what was Ted Williams lifetime batting average? when did Yaz win baseball's triple crown? - essentials a New England bear should know.) I absorbed as much of Mum's knowledge as I could - she had travelled extensively in her youth - and continued my exhausting training routines. I bought clothing for all climates.

Wisdom

My Mum was helpful and supportive. As Ellie had left her cub in her care for some time,she asked me to instruct young Leo in his tree climbing, and then we sat on the porch while she Dispensed Advice.

You mustn't live solely on donuts you know," she told me, rather as I suppose your Mum has told you. "A young and active bear needs plenty of pizza, and you can never eat too many fried clams either. And stay away from brussels sprouts if you know what's good for you. Too many cruciferous vegetables will dull your mind." And then she reminded me to always dress appropriately, and to be kind to animals, and to call home often, but not during Red Sox games, or televised football. She provided me with addresses and telephone numbers of Boyds and Bears all over North America, and told me which ones were to be depended upon and which ones were "a little odd." She warned me about Auntie Maisie Bearington's pomegranate and rice fudge, and asked me to let her know immediately if I ran into Great Uncle Leon Leonwood, and then we ordered Chinese take-out and listened to the baseball play-offs, and then settled in for a good night's sleep.

Mum's house

It is a matter of course that a bear, at the outset of an undertaking of some note, will check in with his Mum. My own Mum lives in the Connecticut River Valley, so I headed east out of the Berkshires; I was fortunate enough to get a ride from Great Barrington to Springfield, and with a bit of a hike from there I arrived at her house to find her tending her garden and babysitting for my young nephew.

Out of the hills

Although I had hoped to see some of my family and friends, I knew I needed to move on before I succumbed to drowsiness and the urge to stop in for the winter. I had another visit planned, so I packed my bags and headed down from the mountains; I naturally made a brief foray for provisions on my way through town.

On bears and literacy

I spent the following days hiking in the area , pausing for snacks on the old stone walls. I was on the lookout for indigenous uncultured bears, who sometimes take a dim view of my sub-species, but they too must have been preparing for winter. I don't believe they watch much football, but they do seem to appreciate a full larder as much as the rest of us. In the evening I read in the library; my family has long prided itself on a degree of literacy seldom seen in ursine society.

The old homestead

I found myself headed in the general direction of our ancestral home in western Massachusetts. I hoped to see my grandbears and some of my cousins, but soon realized that everyone was out stocking up for a winter of napping and watching football on TV. I signed the guestbook with a note and settled in for a quiet day or two.

Louis Edmund Bear by the "rude bridge that arched the flood" , Concord, Massachusetts

I am compelled to interrupt my narrative

to remind you to

* VOTE *

Familiar paths

We meandered through New England, enjoying the fall weather and scenery. I had often travelled this region as a cub, visiting family and friends; my mother was a Boyd, originally from Pennsylvania but transplanted generations ago to the Massachusetts Berkshires. Bears and Boyds are scattered throughout the northeast, and occasionally they hold family reunions, which frequently involve large amounts of pizza and so are memorable to impressionable youngsters.

Au revoir

Autumn was fast approaching and I didn't want to get swept up in the inertia cool weather brings for bears in New England, so I knew the time for my departure was at paw. I gave my notice to LLBean, said my fond farewells to LLBear, and found a ride south with friends.