Bears have always fascinated me. They are big and beautiful and a little bit scary. You don’t see them in the wild often because in general they live deep in the bush. Besides, they are shy – it’s said that if you are walking in the forest, a bear might be nearby. You won’t see her, simply because she is not interested in socializing.
I’ve been lucky enough to come face to face with bears many times, which is something that makes the heart speed up. I have seen them from a distance or from a car too, which is easier on the heart. Still other times I’ve nearly stepped in their smelly droppings. Today I will tell you about my very first face to face encounter.
In 1968 (which may be before you were born), I was walking on a trail near Parry Sound with a friend (my friend was a girl – don’t tell Grandma). The forest was wonderful, full of majestic maples, birch, beech and fir trees. The trail was narrow and twisty and so we couldn’t see far ahead as we made our way to the small lake we’d visited earlier.
Our hike was very quiet and peaceful. We heard no cars or trucks, being so far from anything like roads or houses or stores.
At the point we first spied the sparkle of lake water through the trees, the trail took one of its sharp bends, this one to the right. That’s when we saw it. A full-grown black bear! Heading straight for us! (Maybe he thought it was his trail.)
We stopped dead (well, at least, I knew for sure that I stopped dead) and I said to myself. ‘Don’t panic. No point in upsetting my friend.’ So I said, “Let’s just back away slowly,” in a voice loud enough for her to hear but not so loud as to tip the bear off about our plans.
Keeping my eye on the bear, I back-peddled, slowly (following my own advice). The bear kept coming
As it turned out, my friend had other ideas that had nothing to do with ‘backing away slowly,’ the clue being there was no answer to my question, “Are you okay?” Puzzled, I took my eyes off the bear and looked over my shoulder. There was my friend in full retreat, way faster than I would have believed possible.
Though a little unsure, I stuck with my original plan and kept backing away. Once around the bend, I could no longer see the bear for trees and so didn’t know whether she had now decided to back away as I had been doing. Or if she ran off like a scaredy cat (much like the plan my friend adopted).
So, not seeing the bear any longer, I turned and walked quickly (my friend was still running). I felt that if I ran too, the bear might think we were in a race and would try to catch up to me.
Eventually, I got back to the car, safe and sound. My friend was already there, sitting in the passenger seat. She explained that “I probably have a stronger survival instinct than you.” Which is another way of saying, “I didn’t have to be faster than the bear I just had to be faster than you.”
I have more bear stories if you’d like to hear them.
Love you all Grandpa
(That’s a Kananaskis grizzly with cubs, one of them camera shy.)
