Bear encounters part of the risk that comes with enjoying outdoors

N.S. NOKKENTVED

Originally published July 24, 2001

This is a free country. People have a right to be eaten by bears, fall from a mountain or drown in a river.

OK, maybe that's a little harsh. But it is the possibility of being killed and eaten by a bear or mountain lion, falling from a high mountain trail or drowning in a raging whitewater river that makes wild country wild.

A couple of years ago, I was out for an early morning walk in the Sawtooth Mountains of central Idaho, when I came upon a pile of bear scat right in the middle of the trail. It was early spring, and a light snow covered the ground. I recognized the still-steaming dark green pile as black bear -- deposited only moments ago.

The bear was nearby in the thick brush.

As others who have come face to face with bears in the wild will attest, most bear encounters are not fatal or even result in injury. But such encounters change your perspective. You realize that you are not necessarily at the top of the food chain.

My response on that May morning was not to feel threatened. Instead, I found myself paying closer attention to my surroundings, to where I was walking. Suddenly smells were stronger, colors brighter, the morning sun more intense. I was aware of wind direction and subtle changes in the weather.

I realized I had gone from being a visitor in the woods to being a part of the ecosystem.

The presence of bears or cougars -- or rattlesnakes, for that matter -- has never deterred me from spending time in the woods. But it often makes me think about what I'm doing, and stop and just listen.

I have never encountered a grizzly while on foot in the wild -- though I've seen them from the safety of a truck cab. And as a kid, I once saw a mountain lion attack a deer -- through my father's binoculars safely on a hillside a quarter of a mile away across the Bow River in the Canadian Rockies.

Meanwhile, I accept that hiking and camping in wilderness, negotiating mountain trails and navigating wild rivers include a certain amount of risk even for the most careful. The reasons why people do these kinds of things are as varied as the people who do them.

For me, it is not a conscious choice to put myself at risk, rather risk is simply a part of the experience.

Most people don't take such risks lightly, nor should they. Only the foolish -- or the young and reckless -- ignore them. But the prudent carry pepper spray, line through a rapid beyond their capability, turn back short of their goal when they're tired.

With a little common sense you can all but eliminate the risk -- except perhaps for bad luck or bad timing.

Besides if all the "dangerous" wild animals were caged, the precipitous places had guardrails and the rapids were roped off, you might as well stay home and rent a video.

Or as western writer Wallace Stegner said -- wild lands are places against which to measure your spirit.

All the same, I was real glad I didn't run into that bear face to face. I still don't know if I have the mental ability to react calmly to a face-to-face encounter. Perhaps someday I will find out.

N.S. Nokkentved covers the outdoors for The Olympian, and is always looking for a good place to put a canoe in the water. He can be reached at 360-754-5445.

The Olympian Copyright 2001

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