What do you do when you’re alone in
the wilderness and fifty yards from a black bear? Maybe you go the other
direction, hide, or get out the pepper spray you brought because who doesn’t
bring some type of deterrent for wild animals. If the first thing you do is
start singing a Bryan Adams song, then you may be in trouble. Let me back up a
bit.
I traveled to Whistler, B.C. and set off in search of Rainbow Lake
on a trail that promised amazing views. After having written a letter detailing
my whereabouts I close the car door, snap a picture at the trailhead, and head
into the woods.
It’s funny, but my first concern
had nothing to do with animals but with the fact that I have seen every episode
of Criminal Minds. Bad things happen in the woods, so I prayed for invisibility
from other hikers or at least the ones who would do me harm. Also, I prayed for
a discerning spirit, a quick death if something were to happen, and a hoary
marmot sighting. I then took time to mentally review the bear pamphlet I had
read the night before.
- Stop-assess the situation.
- Remain calm-don’t approach.
- Stand your ground.
- Identify yourself in a calm voice. Sing a song.
- Make direct eye contact.
- Back away slowly.
At this point the bear should leave
or you are hopefully able to detour around. If the bear approaches the pamphlet
said, “Don’t panic! Your brain is your best defense in bear country.” It listed
these hints.
- If talking in a calm tone isn’t working, say “no” as if speaking to a misbehaving dog.
- If you have spray, use it.
- If the bear pops his jaw to threaten you, bluff charge the bear.
- DO NOT PLAY DEAD.
I took time to decide what I would
say to a bear. I rehearsed “H
ello silly old
bear. I don’t want to bother you.”
Three hours to Rainbow Lake wasn’t
exactly the pace I was hoping for. The mammoth bugs that had followed me in
swarms, the roots that had tried to trip me, and the mudflats that seemed to be
missing more boards than not were all a distant memory when I reached the lake. I sat, enjoying the
view.
The trek back was much easier and
two miles out I could taste victory. The sweat, pains, and aches were worth it.
I stopped to rest and when I looked down the trail I saw a black bear. Alive,
only fifty yards in front of me, and moving jauntily down the hillside. All I
could do was freeze; air slowly leaving my lungs. This was it. I was to die by
bear attack. Jerking my head around I prayed for travelers, knowing I would
find none. I edged my way to the trees as the bear stayed the trail. Without
thinking I began singing Bryan Adams “Cuts like a Knife.” I do have a soft spot for the Canadian
rocker but was this to be my farewell song? My camera was around my neck but I
knew if I pressed the button I risked the sound of the shutter making the bear
angry. Instead, I watched the bear meander around the bend, out of sight.
Emerson said, “Life is a journey,
not a destination.” Rainbow Lake was well-worth the hike but looking back it’s
the picture of the suspension bridge where I had to talk myself through the
crossing, it’s the picture of wildflowers where I was laying precariously on
the mudflat, and it’s the missing photo of the bear, wishing I had pressed the
button that make the story complete. Life, like that hike, is made up of
moments and while we may not get to see the big picture, I think it’s
worthwhile to press the button a little more along the way.
(c) 2013 Kari Skinner