Spring Bear: Searching for Breadcrumbs

Alas, it has been nearly two weeks since our encounter with the blonde bear and our luck has not changed. We have not found any more rabbits feet and with the arrival of summer and its accompanying warm weather, our chances to fill our tags are now dwindling. However, that has not dampened our spirits and with a little hard work we will try to make this upcoming weekend, our last of the season, a success.

This past weekend we took advantage of a cool Saturday and tried to make some time for the forest. We had camped out the night before and it was perhaps just what we needed, or at least, what I needed. After a long week of work which had me more than once wanting to simply walk away, the woods came as an ever constant reminder that no matter the stresses there is in the working world, there is always a place of escape. A place where there is no pressure to fill some social norm or fit into some category which others have arbitrarily designated us into. In the woods you return to camp, cold and tired and begin searching the surrounding area for firewood. You build your fire pit up, put a flame to it and instantly you feel the warmth as you put your head back. The stars shine bright and with the dog dancing on the outskirts of the fire’s light, you feel more at home than ever.

James and I enter into conversation about whatever comes to mind but feel no need to cover the silence. It’s that silence that lets you reflect and sort things out and when you finally lay down to sleep you listen to the forest around you, knowing that adventure is just beyond the morning’s arrival. Work, the cause of much pain for me in recent months is left at 3,000 feet and here, at 5,000 feet, I rise above it.

Awaking at sunrise we began our day by glassing the sun soaked slopes, or at least, that had been the plan. What we realized after walking a bit was that the two of us obviously don’t know north from south. When the sun crested the horizon it was on the slopes we were walking, not the ones we were looking across to that the sun illuminated. We looked at each other and with a quick shake of our heads we forged on and tried to get a handle on where our late spring bear would be.

We dropped into drainages, pushed our way through thick re-growth, glided across open grassy mountain meadows, and tried to pick a direction. We wondered the forest like Hansel and Gretel, looking for breadcrumbs, but in the end we were not finding what we hoped for. Several times we did come across what we believed to be bear sign, including scat and what looked like hair caught up in thick shrubs but what we did know for sure was that we were at least 24 hours behind any bear. He had moved through here, looking for something, the likes of which we are still oblivious to, and then snuck away into the darkness of the forest.

At one point James did stop in a moment that seemed eerily reminiscent of our Blondie encounter but it turned out to be that back of a cow elk, just over the ridgeline, and when she showed her rear end it became an obvious case of mistaken identity. Nonetheless, the two of us, always looking for something to do or some way to challenge ourselves, decided that we would sneak as close as we could to her without being seen. After all, she was alone and we had the wind on our side; what’s not to like about that?

Ultimately we would have to keep our distance as we lacked any real cover but for the most part we went unnoticed. We were hidden from her gaze for several minutes but you could tell her sixth sense let her know something was amiss and I suppose you can’t live up in that type of country without having a set of eyes on the back of your head. For her part, she used them beautifully, eventually moving off into the timberline and disappearing into the forest.

As the day would go on we would sit back and gaze upon the Elkhorn Mountains from afar; the highest peaks still covered in snow. We would admire the vast landscape and ponder what a bear would be doing at that exact same time. Perhaps he was doing exactly what we were doing, taking a midday rest. But who really knows? I’m beginning to think it will just be dumb luck if we find him again.

With our daylight hours winding down it was ironic that we finally found our freshest bear sign less than 200 meters from where we had camped the night before. I suppose it was worth checking into but with thick forest all around us and private land within shouting distance the decision was made to return home and try again another day.

With one last weekend coming up I’m skeptical that we will find another bear but I suppose if I wasn’t skeptical, I’d be a fool. Regardless of my mental state that will not stop James or I from pursuing this blonde bear into the last days of May. We will get up into the forest yet again and work and all the other stresses of society will be behind us. Farley will join us at camp as he often does and with the forest as his oyster we will see him turn into the wild dog he was always born to be. Perhaps that brings us just as much of a joy as actually looking for bears. However, we will eventually strike out and head off to hunt, hoping we can bring the little brown dog something back by day’s end. We’ll see.

Spring bear, t-minus: one week.