[at-l] 4th of July Trail Bear Story

[hikester@mindspring.com (Lynn Setzer)]

Ok, here's a bonafide 4th of July Trail Story....

"How A Bear on the Trail on the 4th of July Caused Me to Get Married"


Ten years ago today, I had convinced my sweetie to go hiking with me.  (He
was/is a cyclist; we were busy converting each other to our respective
sporting loves.)  We were contemplating marriage in a theoretical way, but
on this day I was mostly contemplating a hike and trying to Tom Sawyer him
into it.  "It'll be fun," I urged him.

The hike was to be an all day extravaganza from Newfound Gap to Mt. LeConte.
We'd walk two miles on the AT, six miles to LeConte and then back again, 16
miles altogether.

The day was gorgeous, clear, and cool, at least when we started.  We saw
tons of pink turtleheads, a fawn, Indian pipes, listened to song birds.  At
LeConte we feasted on pack goodies and watched the red boomer squirrels size
us up, looking for a handout.

Time came for the return trip.  The sun was high now, the morning coolness
gone.  The gnats were out full force.  After 14 miles we were beginning to
tire.  And smell rather ripe, too.

About the time the Boulevard Trail re-intersected the AT, two miles or so
from Newfound Gap, I looked up in the path and saw a sizeable dark spot.  I
squinted to make out what the dark spot was.  (This episode convinced me
that it was time to get glasses.)

It was a bear, a rather large bear, taking a siesta.

My sweetie turned to me and asked, "It was your idea to come hiking.  What
are we going to do?"

"If he's sleeping, do you want to try to walk by him?"

"ARE YOU NUTS?" he spat at me in a loud whisper.

"WELL, WHAT"S YOUR IDEA?" I bickered back. (I know it was stupid, but it was
the first thing I thought of and my self-censorship skills were lacking and
there it was. You've done stupid things too, right?)

"Let's get off trail and go around him."

This we tried.  Up to our armpits in underbrush, we quickly came back to the
trail.  Who knew which way the trail would turn?  Maybe it would turn away
from us as we bushwacked our way.  Nothing like being lost.

Standing in the trail, contemplating our options (which weren't many), I
looked toward the bear.  "I don't know what we're going to do, but right now
we're turning tail and going back up the trail.  HERE HE COMES."

So the three of us are beating a path up the trail, when I spied a fallen
tree.  Its limbs held the tree nearly level as the ground sloped away.  The
root mass was full of mud, making a perfect shield.  "Let's shinny out that
tree."

So shinny we did, just in the nick of time.  As we crouched behind our dirt
shield, the bear stopped in front of us.  I could see him sniffing for us.
I could see the texture of the skin on his big, ole, black nose.  I saw his
ear tag, the mark of GSMNP 'problem' bears.  I could have touched that bear
if I'd stretched out my arm.  I wondered if my time had come and thought how
I'd never picture my demise would be like this.

It occurred to me to sacrifice the pack.  If I could get it off my shoulder
and pitch it up trail, then maybe the bear would go for the pack and I could
run down trail.

But the pack had become one with my skin.  Grafted, it felt like.

That's when we heard THE VOICE.  We hadn't seen anybody else on the trail
that day and to this day I believe it was the voice of an angel that
happened to be hiking that day.  Try as I might, I couldn't see a person to
go with the voice.

"Oh, s***!" THE VOICE boomed.  (There went the pre-conceived notion that
angels don't swear.) "GET OUT OF HERE!  GET OUT OF HERE!"  Miraculously, the
bear started walking away.  My sweetie and I seized the moment, jumped from
behind the shield and beat a path downtrail.  Adrenalin, I thus learned, is
a great drug.  It gave me speed and felt like ice all at once.  I did
lateral arabesques over those rocks and roots, and friends, I had never
taken ballet lessons.

When we reached Newfound Gap Parking lot, we decided to get married.  Three
weeks later, we tied that knot, under a tree in the shadow of Mt. Rainier.

And we've lived happily ever after.

Lynn