How to survive a bear spray attack

I LOVE spray painting shit. LOVE. IT. If I am reading any kind of home improvement or decorating do-it-yourself article, or like a life hack tip and it involves spray paint – shit is getting painted. TooooDaaaay.

We have more shit that has been spray painted per square foot in our house than any other house in Canada. Just ask Anders. He can tell you all about my spray painted garden gnome Oskar (I agree - garden gnomes are a train wreck in normal situations but a soon as you give them a solid coat of, in my case deep red, those fuckers are CUTE!). My greyhound Buzz (painted deep green – so fucking sassy!), my fairy-tale looking tree stump (painted white – I know when will the sassy end right?) and a bunch of other random odds and ends. 

Anyway – the one project Anders is actually supportive of is my annual spring spray painting of our deck furniture. And this is only because a) it saves him money, and b) it saves him from having to go shopping with me. 

So anyway – off I head to Home Depot to get my annual five cans of satin finish black Tremclad and wire brush/scraper. This is when I notice that the Home Depot in Campbell River doesn’t quite have the same selection of spray paint as the Home Depot on Calgary. All they have is Tremclad matte black. Who the fuck wants a deck set that looks like a chalk board? NEXT! So then I spy another brand in gloss. Oh damn – shit is about to get shiny! 

Flash forward three hours. Scraping is done, brushing complete and I am super jazzed and ready to paint.

Now, I know I am not going to be getting an invite to Mensa anytime soon, but I am also pretty sure that Anders hasn’t had to hire me a handler yet either. That all being said - damned if I can work a fucking spray can. 

I had the Tremclad all worked out. There were no bells or whistles but it was solid and together we got shit done. Then along comes fancy-ass Krylon with it’s weird spray nozzle lever thing. After checking it out and making a specific mental note that you push on the back of the lever - I turned to the freshly prepped table and sprayed my finger, shirt and neck. 

Simple right? Look at the table just
mocking me in the background.

Son of a bitch! What the fuck is wrong with this thing? Go in for a closer look, confirm the whole lever nozzle thing and then SPRAY MYSELF IN THE FACE AGAIN.

My face and shirt were worse,
but I think this gives you the jist.

That is a special kind of something right there. Third time was the charm and I did manage to get the set painted, but it got me thinking about how bad I am at spray cans.

In the early 1990s I was out for a hike with my mom and our two dogs. We decided it would be a good idea to test out how to use our bear spray so that in case the real thing happened and we stumbled across a bear, we would be ready. 

I was up first. I checked the wind direction and made sure the dogs and mom were well upwind of me. I chose a target (a big tree like 15 feet from me) and then studied the can and read the instructions. It was one of those pull the pin, then aim and pull the trigger deals – so I am thinking how can you fuck this up? Your finger only goes in a trigger one way right? 

WRONG.

I pulled that trigger and basically napalmed myself. It was this thick, red foam and it felt like I had about 1,000 angry bees twerking on my face, neck, chest and forearms. 

I screamed at my mom to run – and let me tell you - Eva did not hesitate. I think she may have been running before I even said anything as when I squinted in her direction, all I saw was her and the two dogs hauling ass down the trail towards home.  

Do you know what is stronger than a mother’s love? Fucking bear spray.

And man’s best friend? Yeah all that is fine and dandy until shit takes a hard left then apparently is it every man for his fucking self.  I didn’t see the dogs again until the next day. Assholes. 

My mom finally did stop and shout back at me something along the lines of, “You okay honey?”.

I did the zombie lurch all the home as I didn’t want to spread that shit any further and walking while holding my upper body still seemed to be the only option. 

Anyway – all this leads me to a life hack of my own which I am happy to be able to share.

If/when you are ever bear sprayed (which if you hike with me, lets be honest, that shit is probably going to happen) or pepper sprayed (which if you drink with me, may happen), you are going to think the best way to soothe the pain is to soak the burning skin in water. WRONG! Rookie move! When I got home I filled both kitchen sinks with water and put my face in and out of one side while dunking my forearms in the other side. After a while, I noticed that my chest, which wasn’t in water, was no longer burning but my face and arms still felt like I was wearing a matching hat and dinner glove set made of really pissed off bees. 

So lesson learned – when/if you get bear or pepper sprayed, you just have to fucking nut up, wash it off the best you can and wait for the pain to end. Or read the instructions on the can.