Met up with a friend who was in the city from Fort Smith, NT this past weekend. We got talking about bears and I remembered a story I wrote when I was in Smith and it’s about coming nose-to-snout with a bruin in 2007.
I went out to the river, alone, last night for an evening photo shoot. I drove to Mountain Portage, which is about ten minutes out of town, into the wilderness and down by the roaring Slave River rapids. I went because I was sad and thought a walk by the water would make me feel better.
When I got to the trail head there was still some fall sunshine but it was slowly being pulled towards the Earth. I put on my headphones and walked down the very steep hill to the beach. I walked along the racing river practicing my sunset shots while listening to opera. Examining everything around me to find the right photos. At one point I glanced at a few dips and ripples in the sand. Notice some marks deep in the mud.
“Are those bear prints?” I wondered for an instant. Then dismiss the thought. Nah.
After about a half an hour of shooting, I turned to go back home. And I’m face-to-snout with a bear. A black bear. It’s only a few metres away and cutting off my route home. I don’t know what to do. It stares at me. Stares and stares.
I’m scared. I’m frightened. I don’t move. I wait for it to leave so I can hike back up the trail, which is in sight. So close. Too close to the animal.
The bear breaks off his or her stare and takes a couple of steps away from me to nibble on some rose hips. I don’t move yet. It’s still too close. Then it walks back to the same spot where I had first met it and stares at me again. Agonizingly, it repeats this pattern of walking to and from me while nibbling a few appetizers and perhaps considering me as the main course.
I’m stuck. I have no where to go. The bear is blocking my path to freedom. I review my other options. I could get in the water that’s on my right and try to swim away – down the rapids. Probably not a good idea. Bears can swim. I could climb the cliff to my left. Probably not a good idea because bears can run. Fast. Probably faster than me uphill. Should I throw rocks at it? Then that might really get the bear’s attention.
Finally, before a better plan than just standing motionless suggests itself, the bear turns and walks further down the beach. And then further and further. And then it’s far away from me. This frees the path up the steep hill. I frantically scramble up the trail – every couple of seconds looking over my shoulder for the bear. It had seen me leave and I’m worried it’s not going to let me go and is chasing me.
I run up the hill as fast as I can and climb into the safety of my vehicle. I’m shaking. I have allowed myself to be scared at this point. When there are steel doors around me. I turn on the van and start the drive home. Towards the safety of pavement and the many people in town.