The State Journal Register featured an article of my bear encounter in today's edition. That story was based on an interview with me and on the following recount of my experience. I want to thank Chris Young for his article. It was excellent as usual. If you are a nature enthusiasts but not local, I encourage you to follow him on the web . http://www.sj-r.com/ One correction I might make for those in the Springfield area, I am semi-retired, but I no longer do home inspections. I am the House Doctor and specialize in home repairs and remodeling. That's what pays for the camera equipment! Am I a professional photographer? That depends on your definition of professional. Do I take and sell pictures? Yes. Do I make enough to cover expenses? No. If you are interested in seeing more of my work, go to http://www.dsdigitals.com/ . Now let's get on with the story.
It was about 4 PM local time. My wife and I were camped in Big Meadows Campground in Shenandoah National Park. The weather was clear that day and I had spent the morning hiking down the trail to Dark Hollows Falls. We had experienced lots of fog and rain during our stay in the park so I wanted to make the most of a rare, rain free day. I topped my monopod walking stick with a simple digital Canon Powershot A590. The camera backpack was lightened up so I could travel quickly and return before dark. Inside the bag was my Canon 5D Mark II with a 28-135 mm zoom lens. The heavy telephoto zoom was left behind.
While thoughts come and go, I think every hiker in bear habitat area has to come to terms with the thought that some day they will encounter a bear on the trail. Just the day before, my wife and I talked about the possibility and we decided our best option was to display as large an intruder as possible. I say intruder because that is what we are; we're intruders in the bears land. We thought we would stand side-by-side with arms outstretched making loud noises. Once you come to grips with the possibility, it is time to move on to other more pleasant thoughts. On this trail, I knew I was venturing into the active time of the bears as dusk would be approaching soon. I also knew I was alone, possibility not the best idea but my only option at this time because my wife's knees would no longer support her on a long hike particularly where a climb is included.
Each step resonated though my body as my feet hit the large sharp rocks making up most of the decent. Clomp, clomp, clomp down the trail I went. “A noisy hiker is not likely to startle a bear”, I kept thinking to my self. At times I considered whistling or singing but I knew I was overreacting, over thinking this whole bear thing. About half way down the trail, there in the center of my path was a large pile of Bear Dung! It wasn't still steaming but it did look fresh! It doesn't take an Indian guide to recognize bear dung. IT IS BIG! Was this a warning or an omen? My wondering mind was quickly brought back to the here and now. I reasoned that I would be just as likely to encounter a bear if I turned back as I would if I went on to the falls. I stepped over and headed on down the trail. I did take extra precautions to be more aware of my surroundings and possible trail mates, the hairy variety!
When I reached the falls overlook, I caught up with my first fellow hiker. Some how, this gave me a feeling of security. We exchanged pictures and headed down the trail to the observation point below. I lingered at the falls and again found myself alone. Another group then joined me and we headed back up the trail together. They were younger, so I was falling further and further behind and about half way up, our trails split as they headed up the easier fire road and I cut back onto the Appalachian Trail to head back to the campsite. I had figured 1 hour down, one hour at the falls and 1 hour back. This would put me back at 7 PM local time; prime bear time. I was ahead of schedule as I headed, again alone, back toward the campground. This part of the trail was not as rocky as I had completed most of the climb. The monotony of the trail now started releasing the leash on my thoughts and they began to wonder. I was breathing in the fresh air, and absorbing the pure vibrations of nature. The endorphins were flowing and I was on a nature high.
As I approached a bend in the trail, the endorphins were replaced by adrenalin. There less than 20 feet away was a full grown female bear in all her splendor. At age 63, this was my first up close and personal encounter on a trail. I had played the scenario many times in my mind but this was the real thing. I was there and so was the bear. I stood still as she looked me over. I was doing the same thing to her. All that advice about not making eye contact, I didn't care what the experts said; I was watching every move she made to judge her next move. I figured if necessary, I would use the walking stick and attached camera as my weapon of choice but hopefully it would not be needed. As I calmed down and started to reason out my next action, I knew that my first action might be the most important decision affecting the rest of my life, short as it might be. I placed my hand around the top of my only weapon and tensed up as I carefully gripped the hand-hold and snapped off a picture! If this was going to be my last picture, it better be a good one! She started in my direction at about a 30 degree angle from a straight line to me. I countered with an advancement along the trail. As I proceeded, I turned to constantly face her as we passed within feet. Sure wish I would have fired off a few more shots but at the time, I was more interested in survival and having the option to see my shots on the big monitor. About 30 yards down the trail, I stopped and took the good camera out of the backpack. It was at this time, I realized there were two cubs playing in the meadow. Momma was more interested in going to them than going after me. Where is that telephoto lens when you need it? I felt too vulnerable to get close enough for any really award winning shots but I sure had a story to tell.
The following picture, while taken the day before with a 400mm lens, exemplifies what I saw when she came out of the brush and crossed the trail ahead of me. By the time I fired off that first shot, she was walking away.
With shadows ever lengthening, I headed up the trail knowing I had passed the bear test. I had cell service on this side of the ridge so I took the opportunity to call my daughters and let them know that dear OLD Dad had passed the bear test. I kept looking back to be certain Momma bear had not decided to follow me home for dinner; hers! I remember laughing over the phone saying that she had probably told her brother and his friends about the encounter and they would be waiting for me in the parking lot at the end of the trail. I could see them standing around in a semi-circle with chains and clubs and wearing leather vests with gang symbols on them. We laughed, Kim and I, not the bears, as I walked back to the camper to tell my story to anyone who would listen.
We all have our bears to face in life. I prefer to face mine with a smile on my face and a hardy laugh to let the bears know I am coming.
© 2009 Dulany F Sriner
I started out on a section of the Appalachian Trail behind the campground (at right) and quickly turned onto the Lewis Falls Trail to descend about 800 feet down to the observation point at the falls level. Alone on the trail, it was easy for the mind to visit many places as the feet seemed to negotiate the rocky trail on their own.
While thoughts come and go, I think every hiker in bear habitat area has to come to terms with the thought that some day they will encounter a bear on the trail. Just the day before, my wife and I talked about the possibility and we decided our best option was to display as large an intruder as possible. I say intruder because that is what we are; we're intruders in the bears land. We thought we would stand side-by-side with arms outstretched making loud noises. Once you come to grips with the possibility, it is time to move on to other more pleasant thoughts. On this trail, I knew I was venturing into the active time of the bears as dusk would be approaching soon. I also knew I was alone, possibility not the best idea but my only option at this time because my wife's knees would no longer support her on a long hike particularly where a climb is included.
Each step resonated though my body as my feet hit the large sharp rocks making up most of the decent. Clomp, clomp, clomp down the trail I went. “A noisy hiker is not likely to startle a bear”, I kept thinking to my self. At times I considered whistling or singing but I knew I was overreacting, over thinking this whole bear thing. About half way down the trail, there in the center of my path was a large pile of Bear Dung! It wasn't still steaming but it did look fresh! It doesn't take an Indian guide to recognize bear dung. IT IS BIG! Was this a warning or an omen? My wondering mind was quickly brought back to the here and now. I reasoned that I would be just as likely to encounter a bear if I turned back as I would if I went on to the falls. I stepped over and headed on down the trail. I did take extra precautions to be more aware of my surroundings and possible trail mates, the hairy variety!
When I reached the falls overlook, I caught up with my first fellow hiker. Some how, this gave me a feeling of security. We exchanged pictures and headed down the trail to the observation point below. I lingered at the falls and again found myself alone. Another group then joined me and we headed back up the trail together. They were younger, so I was falling further and further behind and about half way up, our trails split as they headed up the easier fire road and I cut back onto the Appalachian Trail to head back to the campsite. I had figured 1 hour down, one hour at the falls and 1 hour back. This would put me back at 7 PM local time; prime bear time. I was ahead of schedule as I headed, again alone, back toward the campground. This part of the trail was not as rocky as I had completed most of the climb. The monotony of the trail now started releasing the leash on my thoughts and they began to wonder. I was breathing in the fresh air, and absorbing the pure vibrations of nature. The endorphins were flowing and I was on a nature high.
As I approached a bend in the trail, the endorphins were replaced by adrenalin. There less than 20 feet away was a full grown female bear in all her splendor. At age 63, this was my first up close and personal encounter on a trail. I had played the scenario many times in my mind but this was the real thing. I was there and so was the bear. I stood still as she looked me over. I was doing the same thing to her. All that advice about not making eye contact, I didn't care what the experts said; I was watching every move she made to judge her next move. I figured if necessary, I would use the walking stick and attached camera as my weapon of choice but hopefully it would not be needed. As I calmed down and started to reason out my next action, I knew that my first action might be the most important decision affecting the rest of my life, short as it might be. I placed my hand around the top of my only weapon and tensed up as I carefully gripped the hand-hold and snapped off a picture! If this was going to be my last picture, it better be a good one! She started in my direction at about a 30 degree angle from a straight line to me. I countered with an advancement along the trail. As I proceeded, I turned to constantly face her as we passed within feet. Sure wish I would have fired off a few more shots but at the time, I was more interested in survival and having the option to see my shots on the big monitor. About 30 yards down the trail, I stopped and took the good camera out of the backpack. It was at this time, I realized there were two cubs playing in the meadow. Momma was more interested in going to them than going after me. Where is that telephoto lens when you need it? I felt too vulnerable to get close enough for any really award winning shots but I sure had a story to tell.
The following picture, while taken the day before with a 400mm lens, exemplifies what I saw when she came out of the brush and crossed the trail ahead of me. By the time I fired off that first shot, she was walking away.
With shadows ever lengthening, I headed up the trail knowing I had passed the bear test. I had cell service on this side of the ridge so I took the opportunity to call my daughters and let them know that dear OLD Dad had passed the bear test. I kept looking back to be certain Momma bear had not decided to follow me home for dinner; hers! I remember laughing over the phone saying that she had probably told her brother and his friends about the encounter and they would be waiting for me in the parking lot at the end of the trail. I could see them standing around in a semi-circle with chains and clubs and wearing leather vests with gang symbols on them. We laughed, Kim and I, not the bears, as I walked back to the camper to tell my story to anyone who would listen.
We all have our bears to face in life. I prefer to face mine with a smile on my face and a hardy laugh to let the bears know I am coming.
© 2009 Dulany F Sriner