The Three Trail Workers
By George T. Parker
Dedicated to Sam Indigo
Once upon a time, a Trail Worker was hiking through a forest in the Sierras. She was hiking fast, because there was Someplace She Needed to Be. As she hiked, she came across a foot bridge. The foot bridge crossed a creek in a very deep, rocky canyon. She was in a hurry, so she did not hesitate to step out onto the narrow wooden bridge.
When she was almost all of the way across, a loud voice boomed from under the bridge.
“Who’s that trip-trapping on my bridge?” The deep heavy, growly voice echoed up and down the canyon.
The Trail Worker froze as the largest bear she had ever seen climbed out from under the bridge.
“Give me your food!” The Bear said.
“Uh…well…I don’t…”
“Don’t lie,” The Bear said. “I can smell the food in your pack. Give it up!”
The Trail Worker’s shoulders sagged. She knew there was only one way out of this. She shrugged out of her day pack and opened it. She reached inside and pulled out a dirty white sack. She handed it to The Bear. The Bear looked inside.
“Trail mix?”
The Trail Worker nodded.
“That’s it?”
The Trail Worker nodded.
“Nuts and berries?”
“Well…raisins…actually.”
The Bear waved his paw at the forest surrounding them. “I can get all of the nuts and berries I want out there. I was expecting real food out of you.”
“Sorry.”
“Maybe I should eat you.”
“Oh, no, Mister Bear! You don’t want to eat me. That would ruin your appetite for the goodies I’m sure my supervisor will be bringing along soon.”
The Bear considered, and let the Trail Worker go. The Bear climbed back under the bridge and took a nap.
Soon, the Trail Crew Supervisor appeared on the trail. He was hiking fast, because there was Someplace He Needed to Be. He started across the bridge, but before he got all the way across, a loud voice boomed from under the bridge.
“Who’s that trip-trapping on my bridge?” The deep heavy, growly voice echoed up and down the canyon.
The Supervisor froze as the largest bear he had ever seen climbed out from under the bridge.
“Give me your food!” The Bear said.
“Well…I don’t…uh…”
“Don’t lie,” The Bear said. “I can smell the food in your pack. Give it up!”
The Supervisor dug around in his pack and handed The Bear a dingy white sack. The Bear took the sack and dumped it onto the ground.
A package of ramen and two energy bars fell out.
The Bear looked up at The Supervisor.
“Really?”
“Hey! Our resupply helicopter got diverted to a medical emergency. We’re scraping the bottom of the barrel for food.”
“Maybe I should eat you.”
“Oh, no, Mister Bear! You don’t want to eat me. That would ruin your appetite for our sponsor. They should be along any time, and they are just hiking in from the front country. I’m sure they will be loaded with goodies!”
The Bear considered and let The Supervisor go. Then The Bear climbed back under the bridge and took a nap.
The Sponsor was indeed hiking in from the front country. They were hiking fast, because there was Someplace They Needed to Be. It was nearing mid-day, and they were thinking about the fat turkey sandwich, dripping with mayo, and topped with a juicy tomato that they were looking forward to for lunch.
They reached the wooden foot bridge and started across. A loud voice boomed from under the bridge.
“Who’s that trip-trapping across my bridge?” the deep, heavy, growly voice boomed up and down the canyon.
The Sponsor paused as a huge bear climbed out from under the bridge. It wasn’t the biggest bear they had seen, or the fiercest, but it was good-sized.
“Give me your food!” the bear said.
“I haven’t got any.”
“Don’t lie. I can smell…”
The Bear paused as he sniffed the air. He couldn’t smell any food!
“This is strange,” said The Bear. “You’re just hiking in from the front country, right?”
“Yes.”
“You guys always have food.”
“I ate before I came. I haven’t got anything with me.”
The Bear snorted and woofed. He stomped his front feet.
“Prove it,” The Bear said.
The Sponsor dumped their daypack out onto the ground. The bear pawed through the gear. There was no food that he could see or smell.
“Maybe I should just eat you.”
“Oh, no, Mister Bar. You don’t want to eat me. That would spoil your appetite for the Junior Woodchucks group that is camped in the next canyon. They have lots of food.”
The Bear considered, and then headed up the mountain to get over to the next canyon.
The Sponsor quickly gathered their gear from the ground and stuffed it back into their daypack. Especially the tightly sealed bear-proof food canister holding a fat turkey sandwich, dripping with mayo, and topped with a juicy tomato. Then they hurried up the trail to be far away by the time The Bear found out there was no Junior Woodchuck group camped in the next canyon.
THE END
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