How I Met Mustard

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic


A man's unfortunate encounter with Winnie The Pooh

Submitted: June 12, 2018

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Submitted: June 12, 2018

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How I met Mustard

I would like to describe to you, the situation I was in just this past week. Now take from this what you will.

I had spent the weekend in the bush as I normally do. This was no extrordinary situation for myself to be in. I had brought the following items with me; a hammock for lying and reading in, a recurve bow and broadhead arrows to go with it, and a backpack with some typical essentials not worth mentioning at the moment. Lets just say I was ill-prepared for the ordeal I was about to face.

Trotting about in this part of Northern British Columbia can vary greatly. In this instance, I was walking along a moderate grade of a mountain face, trees dense and the path being a precursor to rolled ankles. I was in fair shape, but this hike was slowly wearing me out.

Hiking for the time I had – a few hours atleast, was taking its toll on my body and consequently on my focus as well.

I cannot say for certain that I could have avoided the predictament I was in if, say I was less absent-minded but I feel safe in saying that when you go on these hikes, keep a look out. I did a poor job of it and paid the wild price.

My footing starts to become heavier and I am walking in a defeated state of silence, my head down and my back now slouching forward. Anyone reading this would guess that I was an inexperienced outdoorsman who clearly wasn't in any shape for such a trek. I’ll tell you that the only experience I am lacking, is in the moments to follow.

Coming around a slight bend in my path, the ground starts to level out and I am optimistic that I will be able to put up camp quite soon. In my apparent carelessness, I start unbuckling my gear and am in the midst of digging my hammock out from my bag, one strap still around my shoulder and the pockets swung around to my chest like a gimpy kangaroo. I am walking without looking up, digging through the treasures of my backpack. Meanwhile, my mind far to ahead in the future or in the clouds. Take your pick.

Not only does a shelf appear around a corner but the rump of a 900 pound grizzly bear, as well. As dumb as it sounds, my initial thought was what a cute little pom-pom of a tail that thing had. Then the bear turned around, looking at me and my thoughts went straight Neanderthal. I was in a pickle and fuck if I knew what I was going to do!

And so I did what any bear expert would scold me for – I ran like the wind. Unfortunately, bears run much faster than the “wind” and I was now running for dear life, an upset teddybear in hot pursuit. If not for the adrenaline, I might have cried.

So I ran as best I could, stumbling down a hill and past numerous trees, most of which were too small or not immediately scalable. I was in no situation to take my time. Just behind me, I could hear the thumbs of the animal barreling through trees and probably knocking several down like the best line-backer you would ever see. This is all speculation of course because I wasn’t able to look back, nor did I want to.

And to think, I didn’t have anything to combat this animal. Assuming he was hungry, I was going to be his easiest meal by far. I wouldn’t turn down a meal like me in his shoes, even if the meat was basically processed foods.

And with nothing in mind except flight, I was going down this mountain in record speed, vaulting many rotted trees and large boulders. Still the presence of my pursuer was close, but thankfully, not closer than before. It seemed as though I hadn’t let him close the distance – yet.

I ended up having a pretty terrible tumble towards the end of the chase. Head over heals literally, my body tumbled for almost 10 turns down an embankment that seemed to come from nowhere. I was traveling fast and without control. A sudden change in pitch and I was at the mercy of my own momentum.

The tumble was a double-edged sword for I managed to put a bit more distance and thankfully most of the embankment was loose dirt. I was dizzy, and a little bruised, but I was quick to get up and maximize on the added distance, hence the double-edged sword – I was flying for a time.

Now, I had a bit of distance but the bear hadn’t given up. I couldn’t tell you how long we went for. The fear impaired my memory and the only memories I have are of that bear and the embankment which was the second worst fall I have ever endured.

Over some more trees and some barely memorable falls were to follow and I would soon have the bear at my heels again. I thought about the fact that I had managed to outrun a bear for a meager minute. This thought made me sad, for no one would know that I was the hardest processed meal that any bear could know. I was a big pain in the pom-pom of his.

Then there was the short moment where I thought I would be a goner, and it is likely that I would have been, if not for the cliff that I inadvertently b-lined off of.

And this ladies and gentlemen, is my worst fall to date.

So, imagine a hiker obliviously running off a cliff and not even realizing he has done so. I think about the how the projectile must have looked from afar; a man running and for a brief moment, air-walking like he was straight out of the matrix and in an instance, experiencing the exponential decline of flight as gravity rudely rips that ability from you. This is reality, buddy!

The plummet to my apparent death was a breath of fresh air. I say this because it was in my mind for a time that I would be eaten by a bear but now I would be dying from a fall in the middle of the woods. Now the autopsy would suggest to everyone that I was just an idiot. Boy, was this demoralising.

Thankfully, my fall was oh so brief before I was sent through curtains and curtains of pine trees, injuring me severely, but reducing my descent to an unimpressive speed of which I have no clue. I landed in a bed of needles with a few thousand of the things sticking every which way from me.

And for a moment, I was looking up at the wavering branches and the blue sky peaking down on me through that flight path of mine. It felt like I was the birth child of the skies above of which were much to cheap to hire a midwife. Subsequently, I was dumped out of the womb and lost. Lets not forget about being forgotten as well. And then I passed out.

Reportedly, I was laying in that bush for about an hour before some man and his dog, Mustard found me. I met my saviour at the hospital. A golden retriever who resembled that of Dijon mustard. He was a jolly pooch with all the traits of your typical furry best friend. The owner who I quickly learned was Nathaniel, was elated to meet me as well. I saw the man as the human form of Mustard – loyal, excitable and extraordinarily dense. Thankfully, Nathaniel was not so excitable as to jump on my bed and lick my face, causing me revisiting pains.

Mustard had been running in the woods with Nathaniel, looking for those holy pine mushrooms. Nathaniel lost track of Mustard briefly when he bolted to a sound nearby. Nathaniel both clueless and careless, let the dog run freely. Mustard’s great spirit didn’t make him much of a hunter – but inherently a very good boy.

Nathaniel was forced to abandon his mushroom extravaganza to retrieve his yellow best friend. Mustard was MIA.

So, I was found in a bed of needles by a dog named Mustard. I was about 5 miles from Nathaniel’s home which resided down a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. Nathaniel backtracked to his home for help and impressively, Mustard stayed at my side while emergency crews retrieved me.

And so, I was alive and in pain.

Thankfully, I was not forgotten. Legend has it, I outran a grizzly bear and like an idiot, ran off the face of a cliff, defecating in my pants not once, but twice.

By Jeremiah Baker


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