Greetings, all! Can’t believe the summer’s nearly over…

As a finale to what kinda became my “2023 Season of Trees Tour”, I was just off camping amid the beautiful forests around Northern California’s Pinecrest Lake! The trip came right on the heels of a bit of a health scare for me…but a wonderful week at the Lair of the Bear with lovely friends proved to be just what I needed!

Have to mention though that on Night One, a little chaos ensued when an uninvited guest crashed the party –

Our lair had a visit from an actual bear!

I didn’t see it – but the horror-flickishly heavy breathing and efficient work clawing open cookie-filled Tupperware left no mistaking. Rather than confront this beast with a clear case of the munchies, campers wisely just let it do its apex-y thing. I mean, Laurie’s baking is to die for, but…you know.

Bears are part of our landscape. And as if disaster news from around the globe weren’t proof enough, they can be a random reminder of how we share the natural world, but we sure don’t control it. That’s a law of nature I admit I grapple with at times.

Thankfully, bears mainly occupy a symbolic place in my life. The flag of my home state features a grizzly – as does our Great Seal:

Also, as a UC Berkeley grad, I’m officially a California Golden Bear (“Grrrrrr-rah!!!”)! And thanks to my Girl Scout training, I can pick out the constellation Ursa Major – the “Great Bear” – up in the night sky, anytime I want!

I’ve encountered real bears too – but mostly in controlled situations. There were the rescued grizzlies at Big Bear’s Alpine Zoo – that’s a town which apparently owes its name to the fact that the area was home to lots of grizzlies before we butted in. And years ago, I came across bears in another namesake city – Bern, Switzerland. Up until 2009, a few town mascots were kept on display in a thoroughly depressing Bear Pit:

I was pleased to read that the Bear Pit is now part of a larger Bear Park where Bern’s ursine celebs have much more space to roam!

And there was this inquisitive bear at a sanctuary outside Anchorage, Alaska, that seemed much more comfortable in the serious cold than I was…:

I’ve felt even less comfortable on meeting bears without any sort of barrier between us…

At Mum and Dad’s place in Oregon, bears would casually wander through the back yard, demolishing bird feeders and – um – doing what it’s said they do in the woods. I was also with the folks on a Canadian vacation when I couldn’t resist photographing this majestic fella (or gal) right on the side of the road:

I kept the car between us while the folks smartly waited inside – and I was glad because I always thought Dad might secretly have wanted to see if he could face down a bear!

Before Dad ended up with bears for neighbors, I thought his biggest chance would have been when we backpacked in the remote Emigrant Wilderness outside Yosemite! Before bear canisters for carrying in food became a required thing, we’d devise elaborate ways to hang provisions in trees and hopefully out of any bear’s reach. More than once, we’d heard yelling and pot-banging in nearby camps where fellow packers were trying – unsuccessfully, it seemed – to scare off a bear that had figured out the game. 

Luckily, our food was never lost. But there was one trip where we had a close encounter –

Of some kind.

It was on a pack trip with Dad and life-long friends, Kathy and Kelly! The first day of our journey started fairly typically:  we got lost, lungs labored in the altitude, Kathy stumbled into bushes that concealed a beehive, backs got sore, and heels got blistered.

It was glorious!

After a hearty reconstituted meal and some pleasant fireside chatting at our camp by Hyatt Lake, we settled in for the night. Dad had his own tent while we three teens all tried cramming into a very little one (an effort to lessen the weight of the gear we had to pack in).

As I was struggling to sleep, I began hearing these scratching and scraping sounds around pots and mess kits left out on a nearby log. We’d stowed our food – but maybe the aroma of dinner still lingered. (If it smelled inviting, it can’t have been “Freeze-Dried Romanoff Night”…)

I was certain we had a bear. 

And I was equally certain its next move would be to grab the three of us who were already conveniently wrapped in that tiny tent like a “to go” meal…

As I recall, Kathy wasn’t much bothered by the sounds. Being quite happy on meds taken to sooth a mess of bee stings, Kathy wasn’t bothered by anything! The noises must have concerned Kelly though because, while I only fretted over what to do, she decided to call out to Dad with the news that there seemed to be a bear in camp – to which she added:  

“Amy’s kinda scared!”

Kelly wasn’t wrong. I did feel scared – only now I felt scared and thrown under a bus. Decades later, I’m over the embarrassment, of course. (Mostly…) In truth, I was relieved that Kelly had called in the cavalry. Surely, my gallant and experienced woodsman of a dad would be spurred into action and save the day! 

Dad’s response (muffled by a deep hibernation in his sleeping bag – from which he didn’t emerge…):

“Prob-ly just a critter.”

As I also recall, this did not reassure me.

Welllll, Daddy wasn’t wrong either. We all survived, finding evidence the next morning that our menacing pot scraper had likely been a porcupine – and we went on to have a grand adventure! I’ve also since learned that even the littlest rodent can make a big racket when it’s nosing around. (Don’t get me started on the cabin in Sequoia National Park – and Mickey the Hantavirus Mouse…)

That night though, the bear outside my tent was as real to me as could be. A furry and fierce representative of nature itself in all its power, danger and unpredictability. In the end, I’d made a mountain out of a mole hill – or maybe a mole – and darn if I don’t still do that sometimes…

For a true bear encounter, turns out I probably don’t have to travel very far – just this summer here in Burbank, a woman found a bear lounging in her jacuzzi to escape the heat! Guess I’ve got to accept that bears (if you will) are ever-present, and will keep emerging from the shadows now and again to stir things up. I mean, as Taylor Swift might agree – bears gonna bear. And me? I gotta shake it off.

Meanwhile, back at the Lair – surviving munchies were moved to a bear-proof locker, and our late-night visitor must have found a White Castle or something because it didn’t stop by again. And the rest of the week? Well, it was just terrific!

Maybe that’s a law of nature, as well. Yes, bears are out there. Real ones, symbolic ones – and spectral ones. But with a bit of fortitude, and with very dear family and friends, the grandest of adventures are out there too. And Grrrrrr-rah to that!

Cheers!