BY HANNES THUM
We were walking quietly at the time, early one morning in a local canyon that we spend a lot of time in. It was one of the first cooler mornings this September after our hot and dry summer and we felt lucky to be out in the chilly air. As autumn arrives, animals are moving and they are active. It’s a great time to be afoot in the woods.
I have found that, if you want to see more wildlife when exploring our local hills, the simplest and most significant think you can do is simply to shut up.
So, we were walking quietly at the time.
When we heard a crashing noise in the brush about thirty yards to our right, my first thought was that we had startled some elk or deer out of their beds and that they were making a hasty escape from our sudden presence. Elk and deer are what I expect to see the most of at this time of year as they make their rounds looking for food and mates. But, this crashing turned out to be neither elk nor deer.
Three things happened all at once.
With my eyes, I saw a black bear (Ursus americanus) cub falling from the top of a large Douglas fir, limbs spinning to try to stop the fall, and careening through branches and down to the ground.
With my ears, I heard the aggressive huffing-coughing-grunting noise of its mother coming from somewhere in the brush near the base of the tree.
With all of my senses, I realized that we had startled a bear cub and its mother, not a deer or an elk, and that the cub had been trying to climb the tree to hide from the approaching footsteps when it had slipped and fallen. And that the adult female bear was upset about the whole situation.
Making a mother bear fear for her offspring’s wellbeing is one of those things, like crossing a street without looking both ways, that we are all taught to avoid. So, I found myself quickly considering and calculating things such as where the cub was now headed (back up the very same tree), where the mother bear was (somewhere in the bushes about thirty yards away), and at what kind of crossroads all of us (the bears and humans both) had suddenly arrived.
Then, an instant later, the interaction was over. Bear cub back to the top of the tree, clinging tightly and eyeing us warily. Mother bear, still huffing but retreating up the opposite hillside. We humans turned and walked away, apologizing for interrupting their morning.