A Scary Encounter in the Woods

Yesterday started like every other, except that the weather finally cooperated and the sun came out! After having many days of rain and snow, it was a refreshing break from the old tricks Mother Nature has been playing on the Northwest. I had the afternoon off, and nothing was going to stop me from enjoying the blue skies, new wildflowers of spring and the buzz of the forest. On Earth Day, we did a service project on a brand new trail called "Grand Ridge", which climbs about 2000 feet from the valley to the top of the hill known as the Issaquah Highlands. It seemed the perfect place to go- a new trail, few people, and a good workout.

To make the rest of the story more enjoyable a visual aid would be nice, however I can't seem to get the pictures off of my cell phone (the only camera available) so try to use your imagination. We started up the trail, climbing through a gentle path of trailing blackberries, oregon grape and the occasional trillium flower, which seemed to scream "spring is here, spring is here". Since the trail is fairly new, there are sections that are muddy that the trailcrews haven't had a chance to fix yet. "Squish, Squish"- I looked down at my shoes and saw the mud coming up over the sides, "Oh well", I thought "hopefully it will dry and fall off by the time I get back to the truck." As the trail began to level off, I saw something in a mud puddle that caused me to stop. There in front of my, without any question, was a freshly squished bear track. At this point, you might be thinking...you'd turn back. But here's the thing... the Northwest is often cold and rainy and that track, I figured, could have been made days prior. Also, in the back of my head, I questioned that it was a bear track. (This is where the amazing picture of this track would be a great add). The more I studied it however, as I paused there along the trail.. the more I knew it was, unmistakably, left by a bear. I had seen bear tracks on trails before, and usually the bear was long gone, so I used that logic and carried on up the trail.

Summit trotted along by my side, sniffing occasionally and panting as we went. I had a sense of heightened awareness at this point- keeping my wits about me.. just in case. Turns out, this sense, may have saved my life. As we rounded the wooded corner to a new section of trail, and there, dead in front of us was a 400 pound black bear. My heart raced, I was too close. I prayed she didn't have a cub. I prayed she would go the other direction. I didn't know how Summit would react, and bears are often more aggressive if you have a dog. I whispered to Summit "Please be quiet Puppy, please be quiet.. SHHHHHHHH". Summit looked at me and sensed my fear. His hackles were up and ears were forward- he was scared too. I slowly started walking backward while whispering to the bear, and trying to avoid eye contact "you're okay, big girl, I'm headed this way". She started to walk up hill toward a large patch of devils club and I breathed again. I kept my eyes sharply on her and slowly continued to back away. Suddenly, out of the patch of devils club, pops a small black head. "OH NO," I realized... "she has a cub"! This was the worst possible scenerio. Before I had a chance to formulate a better plan, she stood up on her hind legs in the devils club and looked right at me. At this point, I knew I was in serious trouble and was trying to figure out what to do- I fully expected her to bound forward. Knowing what I know about black bears, I knew that if she did that, I would have to stand my ground. They can outrun a human in seconds flat, and most black bear charges are bluff charges, where they turn seconds before getting to you. This was different though, I had a dog. My mind and heart raced. I recalled all the bear lectures we've had in our store lately about recreating in bear country and all the information poured in, like a downloaded harddrive in my brain.

She dropped to all fours and began walking toward me. Not running thankfully, but walking toward me, which still wasn't good. She was in no particular hurry to reach me, sniffing devils club as she walked. I continued backing up down the trail- my back to the downhill. Beside me, my faithful, wonderful dog, who was still responding to the request of his quietness. Summit was terrified and confused. He couldn't seem to walk backward, so he was winding his leash through my legs, which didn't help things much. At least he was quiet. Then suddenly, the oddest thing happened...out of nowhere a pileated woodpecker (these are the huge, crow sized woodpeckers with a full red hood) came flying out of a tree screaming over the top of the bear, then flew back to the tree. I wondered if it was trying to warn me "hey lady, there's a bear behind you!" Later on, I found out that certain birds have warning calls when something is sneaking through the forest- I'm certain this big bird was trying to let me know. It's very rare to see them, and even weirder to hear them, but to see one and hear one as I did yesterday in the situation was wild. I felt like I was in a National Geographic film. I didn't have a chance to reflect on this moment much until long after it passed. At the time, I was busy saving myself.

"I have my cell phone within reach", I remembered! I picked it up and called Vil. "I'm up on Grand Ridge and I'm being followed by a large black bear, she has a cub. I'm near the top". He had a million questions "Is she following you now? Don't run! Where exactly are you? Is Summit with you?"- the list went on and on. Oddly, his voice was incredibly comforting, even though I knew he was helpless to the situation at hand.

She had reached the trail, and was continuing down behind me. Again, not coming at me fast, but walking forward toward my direction of travel. I knew that running was the wrong move, so I continued a steady pace trying to set some space in between us. Vil continued to talk "if she were to attack, you'd have to let Summit go and it would be every man for himself". I knew he was right and I prayed that wasn't a decision I'd have to face. After about 3 minutes she stopped and stuck her nose in the air. I continued walking. Several minutes down the switchbacking decent, I'd arrived at the deep, muddy bear track again "What was I thinking?!" I punished myself mentally. Oddly there were bear tracks everywhere, I saw them in nearly all the mud puddles, now that I was looking.

I listened for breaking sticks, I listened for heavy breathing, I listened for a sign that she would round the corner behind me. All was still in the forest. There was no sound to be heard. I scurried down the trail, checking my shoulder as I went. Vil stayed on the phone with me until I was certain, I was going to be okay. I placed another call to my boss at the store. He's a big mountain biker and rides that trail. Since it was sunny, I envisioned his fate if he came flying down that section of trail and right into an aggitated bear and her cub. "I just wanted to let you know, not to do the Grand Ridge Trail tonight," and explained the story. He was thankful I'd called, and double checked to be sure I was okay.

I breathed a huge sigh when I reached the road and saw the truck. Odd how the site of a dirty old Dodge Ram could be like a giant hug. I headed for home with a story to tell and the surge of adrenaline disappearing back into the bodily abyss. A lesson was learned, safely. Next time, I bring the bear spray. (I promise if I can figure out how to get the pictures off the camera phone, I'll post them. The woodpecker on here was a downloaded image from the web to show you what they look like).