Does a bear actually poop in the woods? An eye-witness account.

I love cookies. Any kind of cookies. Especially the cookies made by Lori at Kasba Lake Lodge. You see she has this secret recipe for “oatmeal raisin craisin nut nut coconut gooey stuff cookie”. These things are addictive. Do they stick to my ribs and other places too?

Well. Does a bear poop in the woods?

I love to fish. Any kind of fishing will do. Thank you. Trout, smallmouth bass, largemouth bass, lake trout, northern pike, muskie. Even perch, bluegill and catfish. You name it. And I love to catch it. Do I catch a lot of fish?

Well. Does a bear poop in the woods?

And then there are my children, grandchildren and other kids I care about. They are perfect in every way. Except when they’re not. Do they do things I would’ve never dreamed about doing at their ages?

Well. Does a bear poop in the woods?

And that brings me to the subject of this column. Really. Does a bear, any bear, poop in the woods?

Honestly, up until this summer, I assumed that a bear headed into the woods to do his business. But I just didn’t know for sure. I never saw a bear in the act. And when I saw a bear, I always headed somewhere to safety. My boat for example. So I just didn’t know for sure. About where a bear does his business.

Maybe it’s in someone’s garden. Or behind the tool shed. On maybe in an out-of-the-way corn field. But in the woods? I just didn’t know.

I have an old friend who posts on Facebook pictures of bears coming to his backyard. And even on his back porch to peek into his windows. The pictures are clear. Sometimes funny, Other times a bit frightening. But never. Not even once. Do the pictures show a bear fertilizing his yard.

This is a mystery that cried for further exploration.

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This summer I decided to look in the nooks and crannies at Kasba Lake Lodge. Located in the Northwest Territories and Nunavut in northern Canada. Where bears are plentiful. Black bears. Brown bears. Grizzly bears. Bears that like blueberries, fish, grubs and more stuff. I figured if it went in, it had to come out. But the question is where.

After full exploration, I still had not seen this mysterious act. Then one day. There it was.

My wife, Maxine, and I were fishing with our guide, Jordan. I had given up the search for proof on the bear thing. We were concentrating on catching trophy-sized northern pike and lake trout. Until my wife announced it was time for her to take a potty break.

To be clear, it is easier for the guide and me to relieve ourselves. A woman is a little different.

We headed for shore. Fortunately we were close to what is called shale beach. Jordan drove the front of the boat onto the beach.

Once both of Maxine’s feet touched the beach, she took off like she was shot out of a cannon. She headed down the beach to a place she had used for this purpose in past visits.

When she arrived back at the boat, both Jordan and I had relieved ourselves as well.

The next day we had a similar experience. As soon as we were within eyeshot of shale beach, Maxine heard the call of nature. Again we went to shore. And off Maxine went. To her favorite spot.

At the end of the beach she turned the corner to go back into the bush. Stopped cold in her tracks, And yelled.

Jordan had just finished his thing. And turned and ran toward Maxine.

“What’s the matter?”

“Look.”

And there it was. Clear as day. A pile of bear droppings right in Maxine’s spot.

Jordan told Maxine to relieve herself quickly. He turned away. Walked about twenty feet back toward the boat. Stopped. And started clapping and singing at the top of his lungs. Presumably this would protect Maxine from the bear. I don’t know if that was the right thing to do or not. But the singing would certainly have kept me away.

My curiosity was peaked. Yes, there was fresh bear droppings. But it was on a shale beach. Not in the woods.

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Does a bear poop in the woods? The jury was still out.

A few days later we were fishing on a different part of the lake. Almost like a different world than the shale beach area. Jordan had brought Maxine and me to Eagle River. A great place to catch huge northern pike.

There is one nice lunch spot on the river that we have enjoyed for many years. It has a small sand and pebble stone area to park the boat. A well worn bath through the woods. Frequented by moose and other animals. All leading to a clear lunch area covered in moss, rock and tundra at the top of a hill.

As Maxine began her trek up the hill for a bit of privacy. She stopped cold in her tracks. Called for Jordan.

“Come! Here! Please!”

“Yes, ma’am. What is it?”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“”Yep. You bet.”

And there it was. In the woods. No doubt. A big smelly, hot and steaming, minutes old, pile of bear poop.

This time there was no singing or clapping. It was to the boat and leave.

Maxine had to hold on for a while. She nearly split herself. Eventually we located another suitable spot.

The good news is that I finally got my answer.

Does a bear poop in the woods?

Yes.

Bill Gindlesperger is a central Pennsylvanian, Shippensburg University trustee and founder of eLynxx Solutions that provides Print Buyer’s Software for procuring and managing direct mail, marketing, promo and print. He is a board member, campaign advisor, published author and talk radio commentator. He can be reached at Bill.Gindlesperger@eLynxx.com