The first incident was three weeks ago. I had intended to run my farthest distance yet; the route I planned was about 21 km (about 13 miles). Seven kilometers in, a large grizzly bear reared her dangerously, adorable head about 100 meters in front of me. She wasn't in the woods, but on MY trail. This was the first bear I had ever seen outside of my car, so naturally I got a little nervous. I raised my arms, pulled Jake behind me, and backed away as I repeated in an anxious voice, "That is a BEAR. THAT is a bear. That IS a bear. A BIG bear. A GRIZZLY bear." She went about her business, eating, walking, and generally ignoring me, but I still had to find a new route. So I bush-wacked out to the highway and ran back from there. The plan was to go home, call the conservations officers to report the bear, drop the dog off and continue my run in a different direction. The bears had a different plans for me.
I decided to take a 'short-cut' back to the house, which was my first mistake. Along the short-cut, there is a large rock that often looks like a bear from far away. I saw what I thought was the bear-rock and continued running. Then the bear-rock moved. Hmm. I got a closer look and realized that it was indeed moving and it was not a rock. He, too, took little interest in me and let me slowly circumnavigate around and through the woods to my house. Once I arrived home, I decided that the universe didn't want me to run 21 km that night and I made dinner instead.
The second 'incident' took place on a lovely sunny morning. I walked out the front door, grabbed my bike from the porch and unlatched the front gate. That's when I heard a loud 'CRACK'
in the trees to the left of the house. I looked over and about 10 meters away was yet another grizzly bear. I re-latched the gate and whisper-yelled for Gareth to come out onto the porch. We stood there in silence as the griz walked right across our yard, not 5 meters from where we were standing. Needless to say, I wound up driving to work that morning.
The final incident occurred a few days ago. Gareth and I decided to get off our lazy bums and go for a run. The trail we wanted to take was closed due to bear activity, so we chose a different route. When we were about 5 minutes from home, I stopped dead in my tracks and said in an annoyed voice (I was/am getting sick and tired of these bears getting in the way!), "A bear." So we grabbed the dog and slowly backed away. The bear turned around and headed into the woods. Just then, another bear came out of the woods about 10 meters closer to us, stood on his hind legs, and snarled. We got the point and backed away much more quickly. After rounding a corner so that we were out of sight, we stopped to figure out our next move. If we went back the way we came, we would end up on a narrow, wooded path near the bears, but we couldn't go straight ahead. Because we had stopped moving, we suddenly realized how terrible the mosquitoes were and that we had forgotten to apply bug spray. Even poor Jake was covered in bugs and making frustrated snorting noises. Twenty minutes later we made it home, but not without seeing the bears again and getting eaten alive, by the bugs. Not to mention, they made Gareth late for work.
Thanks to the gaggle of bears running around, my favorite trails are closed, I can no longer run alone, I have been terribly eaten by bugs and I keep having to change my plans!
Dear bears,
Please stop ruining my plans.
Thanks,
Sara
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