Which is more frightening, stairs or bears? I have to say at this point in my life and considering what happened a few days ago I’m going with stairs. Age and maturity can really change one’s perspective on what is dangerous.
Bears have a season, though I did see some tracks last week when the temps got up to 50 degrees but I’m assuming they want back in to their den. Also with bears, there are safety signs, if you see deer about there are no bears. And usually there is a warning of some kind, huffing, false charging, and at a minimum the sound of crashing through the woods.
With stairs, clumsiness and stupidity can strike without notice. That’s what happened to me. I go up the stairs in the pole barn several times a week mostly to bring hay down from the loft. The goats tend to be very picky eaters horribly wasteful, frustrating because the price of hay keeps going up.
Anyway, I used to drag one bale down at a time. Now I just chuck several of them down the stairs and let them roll to a stop. Every once in a while they get stuck and I have to unstuck them. The process is pretty simple I can climb over the tangle and pull them down. That holds some dangers of falling. I can kick them down but my knees aren’t what they used to be. Or I can push them out and down.
It is the last method that got me in trouble. In truth, as I was doing it I was thinking what would happen if the bale just let go while I was pushing with all my might. Well I found out. I quite literally flew off the stairs. I mean I was actually air borne. For several nano seconds I could feel it, the joy of flight. Then gravity proved her power.
Fortunately I was able to stop my fall with my face. Yup I slammed right into one of the hay bales piled at the bottom of the steps with my face. My jaw actually. I can positively affirm that hay when loose and in a pile is soft, however when it is tightly packed in a bale it is not, though likely better than slamming into metal or concrete.
There were three bales in that pile that saved me. Better landing on them than the snow blower or the concrete floor. My jaw was not pleased nor either shoulder or really any of my other body parts but I survived.
There is hope that I will be less foolish or clumsy in the future, though no guarantee. Fingers crossed for a bear encounter I guess.
May your hay always be loose and in a pile.
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