link Grant McGee
I didn’t know we had bats around here. Honestly, I’ve lived on the High Plains since 1999 and I’ve never seen one single bat in flight.
Then the other day one of my “friends” on The Facebook sent me a snapshot of a bat having a siesta under the eave of the building where he works.
Now I’ve come to understand we have a few bats around here … not many, but they’re here.
I remember seeing bats for the first time as a kid. Weird little things that flitted through the sunset sky back in the old home town. It was my brother who showed me how to fake them out.
“Watch this,” he said one summer’s evening. He picked up a pebble and as a bat approached he tossed it into the sky. The bat dove for the pebble but then veered off.
“Why didn’t he catch it?” I asked.
“Because it realized it wasn’t a bug,” said my brother.
After that I had lots of fun with bats. It was almost as much fun as tying a string to a June bug, letting it fly around and sending Mary Tate Schweikart, that neighborhood tattle-tale, screaming down the street.
Now, I am sorry about the two bats I accidentally dispatched at a summer job long ago.
I was desk clerk at a mountain lodge. One evening near the end of my shift, two bats started flitting around the hotel lobby. I supposed they came in through the chimney.
The bellhop and I grabbed a couple of badminton rackets and chased the bats around the lobby. I guess we tapped them too hard because the li’l flying buggers didn’t survive the encounter.
These days I’ll leave a bat alone if I see it flitting through the High Plains sky.
It’s a “respect nature” thing. But also, I wouldn’t like to be faked out over my supper or chased with a giant badminton racket.
Grant McGee is a long-time broadcaster and former truck driver who rides bicycles and likes to talk about his many adventures on the road of life. Contact him at his blog: