Scientists tell us that the polar bear evolved from the grizzly bear.
It needed a heavy, white coat to be camouflaged among the massive chunks of pack ice and the deep layers of snow. The great white bears also needed longer necks to feed on the seals that live on the thick Arctic ice. They also figure that the polar bear will be extinct as the Arctic ice continues to melt.
To be truthful, I'm not an advocate of "global warming." The great planet Earth is constantly changing.
About 10,000 to 11,000 years ago, there were a couple hundred feet of ice right here, bulldozing its way across Otsego County. Cooperstown Lake was gouged out by the massive ice flow.
Then climates changed and the ice receded ever northward.
The melt didn't stop just because man decided to walk upright, though. Man adapted, and so did the animals.
When I grew up in this area, we had winter. Snow came by mid-October and never left until April. We'd slide down the hillsides on our Adirondack ash toboggans.
Pasture fences were seldom a problem as snow always covered the top strand of wire.
When I went north to teach school in the late 1960s, there was something else we don't see any more _ deer migration. Just like the elk come down out of the Rocky Mountain high country, the Adirondack whitetails traveled for miles to winter in the vast swamps along the rivers.
If you drive north along Route 30 to Wells and take the West River Road in nine miles, you finally end up at what was once the White House.
Walk the old, iron-suspension bridge across the river and a couple miles back in, you'll enter one of the greatest whitetail migration routes in the great north woods.
The deer traveled 30-40 miles through that area to get to the winter yards along the Sacandaga River.
Hunters would hike back into the wilderness and sit along the Northville-Placid Trail to wait for deer to come through.
In an area where there's now maybe a deer every couple of square miles, it wasn't uncommon to see 30 or 40 a day. The deep snows drove deer from Arietta across the mountains to their winter haven.
Thick, heavy clothing was essential as the hunters waited for the waves of deer to begin. Some would sit in sleeping bags to fend off the cold as they waited.
Finally, heavy racked bucks and numerous fat does would wander well-worn trails down the ridges and across the valleys, seeking the protection of the thick cedar and hemlock swamps.
Winter no longer comes to the mountains like it did in the past.
The deer don't have to seek refuge from the long winters and deep, heavy snow.
Deer that do move head to town, where they feed on pruned bushes and generous handouts from local citizens.
Hunters no longer sit along the ridge tops of the Silver Lake Wilderness.
The deer don't come by anymore. And sooner or later, polar bears won't find the seals on the Arctic ice. The ice, too, will be gone.
Everything has to adapt, because there always comes a time.
Rick Brockway writes a weekly outdoors column for The Daily Star. E-mail him at robrockway@hotmail.com.
