In this episode (165) – A Bear Sighting . . .
Pull up a chair, and let me tell you the story of a bear.
I awoke to the steady patter of rain on my tent in the black velvet darkness of our cozy mountain camp. Wrapped in my sleeping bag, I sat up, craned my head to one side, and listened; there was that strange sound again. Nervously, I reached for my wristwatch and clicked the Indiglo light. It was just after 1:00 a.m., and I was wide awake.
"What was that sound? I thought, Was it a Bear?"
This was the second night of our 2014 annual wilderness backpacking trek. Our evening conversation had centered on BIG, ferocious bears.
"It wasn't that long ago campers simply hung their food in trees. Not anymore; the bears had wised up to that old trick. Proper precaution requires every scrap of paper, food, trash, toothpaste - anything that has a smell gets packed into the bear-proof canister for the night. No exceptions!"
"What does a man-eating bear sound like outside your tent?"
Alone, in the dark, your imagination tends to run wild, fidgeting and speculating over unfamiliar noises. I convinced myself the sound that was now keeping me awake was buds from the trees above my tent dropping. Later that day, all would become unmistakably clear . . .
This Sierra adventure began at the East Fork Campground along Rock Creek - elevation 9,000 feet - with my friends Brendan and Robert to acclimate to the high altitude. A convenient site about three miles from the wilderness trailhead at Little Lakes Valley.
No reservation in midsummer; you need not make the trip. The campground was full. As we parked in our designated spot, the camp hosts drove up in their converted golf cart to warn us, "Bears had been seen just last night in the area. Be sure to use the bear boxes, do not leave anything out if you stray from your campsite," they said. "Enjoy your stay.”
“No problem, we are prepared - we're headed for the wilderness and carrying bear boxes in our packs."
With a small crackling fire in the fire pit under a starlit sky, we organized our gear and prepared dinner while reviewing the topo map to plan our route. The evening was filled with the chatter of children running about, and parents huddled around their campfires, talking amongst themselves. The illusive, sweet aroma of ganja drifting on the light breeze lulled us to sleep.
Eager to hit the trail, we were up at dawn the following morning. Sitting at our picnic table having breakfast, I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye.
"Look over your shoulder," I whispered. "There's a bear padding quietly into that campsite."
A large brown bear, about the size of a Volkswagen Beetle, was calmly making his way through the campsite of snoring campers. Wide-eyed, we watched silently, frozen to our seats, unable to speak. The bear climbed onto the picnic table covered with a red-checkered plastic tablecloth sniffing the surface for food scraps. When erect, he stood over six feet tall. Finding nothing, he silently climbed down and trundled away.
You've heard it said, "time is relative" well, it was as if time stood still. Admittedly, this entire episode lasted less than three minutes. The bear had come and gone so quickly and quietly that we sat and watched, amazed at the sight of such a large creature able to move with such stealth.
"Can you believe it - we just saw a bear. That thing was huge!" said Brendan. That's my first time seeing a bear after all these mountain trips."
"He was so quiet, not a sound," said Robert. "We should have taken a photo."
Later that morning, as we packed our gear, the campsite residents emerged from their tents. We were the only ones who had seen the bear. We broke the news to the startled campers. They had been sound asleep. With absolutely no idea the bear had come and gone, they began chatting like scared mice running hither and thither, alerting everyone in camp.
Our adventure had begun. The story continues; join me next time to find out what was outside my tent in part two.
I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. I'll see you in the next episode.
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