CNN Headline – 2/10/11
The Woods, Norway – A fourteen year-old Norwegian boy escaped certain death this weekend as he fought off a pack of hungry wolves using only his Walkman and a carefully selected song by the former American punk-rock band Creed.
Saturday morning began like any other weekend morning for Bjarne Marksten, he woke up, ate frosted flakes while watching Nicktoons on his tube TV, and then set off for a stroll through the woods to fetch his mother some groceries – not before grabbing his Walkman and the CD, My Own Prison, which would eventually save his life. He took his usual route down a snow-covered Elk Lane and made it all the way to the bent tree right past the old Skaardal place before he sensed something was wrong.
“I just got that feeling that someone or something was following me, watching me,” says the brave young man. “I turned the music down a little bit and kept on going. Mother really needed some dill and mustard sauce for the Rakfisk we were to have for dinner.”
A sense of dread steadily grew in young Marksten’s heart as he made his way to market, but he was determined not to let mother down, and he pushed onward. About halfway between his house and the village, Marksten heard the snap of a twig and a snarl behind him. He turned around to come face-to-face with five wolves.
“There were five of ‘em, yep,” Marksten recalls. “At first I didn’t know what to do, but luckily my instincts kicked in and I didn’t panic.” That’s the first thing Marksten did right, as a display of panic will ignite aggression in the wolf and cause it to spring into viscous attack-mode. What you're supposed to do when attacked by wolves is calmly make eye contact with the wolf, slowly load and aim your shotgun, and fire a warning shot. Hopefully that will scare the predator away, but if it doesn’t, you are advised to re-aim and blow the species to smithereens. Marksten, foolishly, wasn’t carrying his shotgun that day. “I didn’t think I’d need a shotgun that day,” Marksten recalls his idiotic decision. “It had been a fair winter and there was plenty of game for the wolves to devour. I don’t think these were hungry wolves, they must have been rabid.”
With no shotgun, Marksten was armed with only the violent, thrashing guitar, the sporadic and tuneless baseline, and thunderous whiney wailings of Scott Stapp. “I’m kind of a social outcast, a bit of a loner, so I sorta like Creed cause I identify with them,” Marksten reluctantly admits. “But I know most people hate them. Even the few friends I have are astonished I still listen to Creed nearly a decade after it was even close to socially acceptable to do so. They’re always telling me, ‘Bjarne, I cant believe you still listen to that whiney pussy shit. At least grow some balls and listen to Hinder or Daughtry or something.’ One time I made my friend Erik, who’s tone-deaf and almost as big of a loser as me, listen to Creed cause I thought maybe he could identify with them, like me. After about thirty seconds his right ear started to bleed and he had to be taken to the hospital. He still can’t hear out of that ear. Anyway, when I remembered that story I knew I had a chance against the wolves.”
Marksten slowly removed his headphones and had enough sense to wait until the speakers where pointed directly at the wolves before reaching into his pocket, grabbing his Walkman, and turning the volume to full blast. Norwegian wolves, especially these wolves – believed to be of the Koppang Pack – have extraordinary hearing. Their ears are finely tuned to the rhythmic winds and caws inherent in nature’s orchestra, and could hear a mouse scuffle across a dead leaf from a mile away. When something as unnatural and confusing as Creed’s “music” was blasted just feet away from them, their bodies didn’t know how to react.
“I turned on ‘Torn’ and the wolves, in unison, were almost instantly sprawled on the ground, foaming at the mouth and trying to bury their ears. I started to walk backwards, keeping the speakers pointed at the wolves, until I was about 100 metres away. By then the wolves were regaining consciousness and backing away themselves in the opposite direction. That’s when I turned and ran, still with my headphones over my shoulders and the music up all the way.”
Marksten made it to market, where he bought his mother the dill and mustard sauce, as well as borrowing a shotgun for the return trip. Marksten, ironically, loves wolves and often studies different packs in his free time. Despite the recent incident with the wolves, Marksten’s attitude towards wolves hasn’t changed. “I love wolves,” he says. “I think they’re beautiful creatures. The ones that attacked me are only a small sample size, and there was definitely something wrong with them. I’m only glad I wasn’t listening to Nickelback that day or I might’ve killed them.”
-Pete Higgins
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