0 0 NormalMNan Strange W it. , _ 9 11rJ r Ijust draw until I reach that one hideous moment," says Gary Larson, the creator of "The Far Side.""That's what I relate to." And these days alot of people relate to School of dVery Hard kKnocks 5 w slWest Point cadets take to the hills in summer The 60-foot balance beam shivers like a wet puppy as West Pointer Allyn Lynd PHOTOS BY SUDHia takes slow, nervous steps along its Tanks for the memories: Rolling out the length, trying not to look down at the dark, artillery (top); riding a wire trolley shiny waters of Lake Popolopan 30 feet across the Popolopan (above); at ease below. "If he stops for just a second the between battles (below left); power beam will really begin shaking," explains lunch, military style (below right) senior cadet Ken Boehme, watching from the sidelines. "But he's got to do it; he knows it, too." Larson's somewhat demented single-panel cartoon feature. More than 450 newspapers run it, more than 4 million copies of the 8 books that re- print it have been sold, and "Far Side" products have sold famously-$10 million worth in greating cards and posters alone. Still, Larson seems to be somewhat embarrassed by the limelight. A slender man of 36, with thinning blond hair and rimless glasses, he speaks quietly and often punctuates his remarks with a barely audi- ble laugh. Is he shy? "Heh, heh, heh. I would say so," he says."I'm a little uncomfort- able with all the attention." Looking back, Larson's past seems like an inevitable pro- logue to what he does today. First of all, he's been drawing since he was a little kid in Ta- coma, Wash. "I've always had an active imagination," he says. "In grade school'I could really fly inside my head-not unlike others-but I had trou- ble reining it in." Then there's his lifelong interest in biology: "As a little kid I enjoyed going down to the swamp and picking up frogs and snakes and sala- manders." Finally, there was the nascent personality: "I was a quiet kid. I wasn't extro- verted or a class clown or any- thing like that. I had a quite dry sense of humor among close friends." Add these elements together and you get a low-key cartoon with a heavy emphasis on animals, drawn by a bache- lor who shares his two-bedroom home in Seattle with assorted amphibians and reptiles and a few choice animal skeletons. But it wasn't until after Larson earned a bachelor's de- gree from Washington State, and was working at the hu- mane society in Seattle, that he showed his work to a report- er from The Seattle Times. This led in 1979 to "Nature's Way," a weekly feature that Larson describes as "a very, very Neanderthal version of what Idonow." After a year the cartoon was dropped because readers found it distasteful, and Larson took a vacation in San Francisco, where he walked into Chronicle Fea- tures with his portfolio, unan- nounced, and left town a week later with a five-year contract. Like other new cartoons, his started slowly, but it is now building steadily. "It's so fun- ny all the time that it would be hard not to attract an audi- ence,"says Lee Salem, editorial director of Universal Press Syndicate, which now distrib- utes the cartoon. Larson professes not to know why he's funny. "I just sit down and get silly at the draw- ing table," he explains. "I think my humor runs the gamut from being silly and corny to things that are on the dark side." Larson takes reality and stands it on its ear, and the contrast between the ordinari- Larson and pal: 'm a little uncomfortable with all the attention, says the artist ness of his visuals and the startling twists of his imagina- tion is hilarious. But what, in Larson's mind, ties together such varied offbeat subjects as a cheetah that puts on sneakers before chasing gazelles and a pair of clowns gone bad who lurk in an alley to pelt inno- cent pedestrians with cream pies? What is the common thread? "I think it's there, but I don't quite know what it is. I'd hate to think it reflected on me. Heh, heh, heh." R ON GIV ENS