I’ve never taken a ride on a Bear Bus. I’ve heard of the Bear Buses. I’ve seen them driving around campus. One fateful day in the fall semester of 2011, I chased one while flailing my arms and screaming. But I’ve never actually been on one.

And I’m not exactly sure who to blame for that, to tell the truth.

As mentioned in a previous “Mouthing Off” article, I enjoy parking further away and walking to class. It’s easier to find open parking in the outskirts of campus. Plus, if you take one look at me, you can tell I could use the exercise.

But sometimes I don’t feel like walking from the Upper Fields. And every time I consider taking a Bear Bus, it taunts me. Some days I see it taking off from the parking lot just as I pull in.

Other times, the Bear Bus gets craftier. After waiting for a while, I decide it isn’t worth my time to keep waiting. Just as I get to the building in which my class is held, the Bear Bus makes an appearance.

A quick look at the Bear Bus website shows the route schedule. It doesn’t really list pickup or drop-off times, but it does list routes and operating times. This isn’t helpful for figuring out if it’s more time-efficient to wait for the bus or start hoofing it.

And now there’s the Bear Shuttle service. NASA can’t afford to send people into space, but Oakland University (who I’m sure has a much smaller operating budget) has bearstronauts? Something smells fishy, and not just the Grizz’s lunch.

If I were the type to don a tinfoil hat, I’d swear the Bear Buses were mocking me.

On a shopping trip, I told my wife of this pet conspiracy theory. “It seems a bit too inconvenient,” I told her. “Every time I need to get on the Bear Bus, I’m just a little too early or too late.”

She gave me the “Brian, you’re acting crazy again” look. It was the same look she gave me when I said Beer Lake had pirate treasure in it.

But just as we were loading our purchases into my minivan, the two Bear Shuttles showed up in the Target parking lot, six and a half miles away from Oakland University.

My wife still thinks I’m crazy, but I’ll be the crazy one with a hoard of Beer Lake pirate treasure.

I decided that night to make amends with the Bear Buses. The next morning, I stood and waited at a stop, pondering my fate.

If I boarded the Bear Bus, would I wind up in Narnia? I’ve never read any of the books or seen any of the movies. I wouldn’t know the first thing about getting along there.

After waiting a good five minutes, the bus came into view. I beamed with excitement. All I needed to do was show my SpiritCard and…

I could hear the fates laughing at me. I left my wallet at home.

“I’ll take the next one,” I said meekly.