“Shoo, bear!”
It was the middle of the night in Yosemite Valley, and my two sisters and I were blissfully snoozing away in our tent-trailer, hoping the raccoons didn’t come again. They had been trying to steal our food and making a mess of our campsite every night. So when we heard rattling and banging on our cupboard outside, we just knew those pesky raccoons were back.
My intrepid and irritated big sis stepped out of the camper in her nightgown, ready to shoo them off. She stopped dead in her tracks when she found herself face-to-face with a bear. The bear immediately reared up on his hind feet. Thankfully the cupboard was between them, since they suddenly went from being eye-to-eye to being eye-to-chest. Rendered nearly speechless by the bear but still in “shoo the raccoons” mode, she said, in a small, shaky voice, “Shoo, bear!”
Amazingly enough, the bear “shooed,” shuffling off into the night without a backward glance at my nightgown-clad sister. She, however, found herself explaining what had happened to curious neighboring campers aroused by the commotion. She totally forgot she was wearing only her nightgown, and was fully chagrined when she realized it.
Just the bear facts, Ma’am
That was my first encounter with a bear. Interestingly, bears in Yosemite are all what is known as American black bears, but they are usually brown, not black.
I grew up in a small town—and when I say small, we’re talking population around 2,400. There was tons of wildlife in the area. It was always thrilling to see everything from ground squirrels and jackrabbits to deer and coyotes, even a few rare herds of majestic wild horses. There were rattlesnakes, too, but seeing them was a different kind of thrill.
As far as I know, though, the valley surrounding our little burg was bare of bears. At least I never saw one. But they may have come down closer to civilization there now, due to the wildfires.
Fire and drought
The wildfires and the drought in California this year and in recent years have affected the wildlife and brought them out of their natural habitat in some cases.
That may be why my brother-in-law recently had a mama bear and her cub appear at their mountain home on the edge of town for the first time. He caught her knocking his garbage can over and dragging one of those black trash bags away. She apparently wasn’t fazed at all to be caught in the act. She made eye contact and just kept on dragging.
Of course, everyone knows you don’t get between a mama bear and her cub, but he also didn’t want a big mess to clean up (or to encourage the bears). So he went inside and got some pans to bang together to scare them off. It worked! Mom and Junior lumbered off into the trees…where they stood patiently waiting for those annoying humans to leave so they could continue foraging.
You may think I’m crazy, but I think bear encounters are exciting, as long as they end well (read: the bear leaves and no bear or human has been hurt).
For years we went to a church Family Encampment in Yosemite where bears were regular visitors to the campsites. I have pictures (somewhere) of them ambling through the campgrounds and of their cubs climbing trees.
And then there was that time a bear wandered into the outdoor “church bowl” and prowled back and forth behind the preacher. What was the sermon about, you ask? Um…who knows?
Sisters, sisters…
My sisters and I used to take a sisters’ “fling” every year. We flung all our cares and stresses away and just had a blast together. Several of our trips involved “roughing it.”
We were in Sequoia National Park the year rain drenched our tent-camper so badly that we had to move to a cabin. Ours was the very last cabin before the edge of the forest. That evening we cooked pork chops on the wood stove that was on the porch, but for some reason they were so tough we couldn’t even bite into them! So we tossed them a little ways away from the cabin for the wildlife to enjoy. That may or may not have been the brightest idea we’ve ever had.
Well, hello there!
Later that evening we were playing cards and eating popcorn (which we had also cooked on the porch) at the table under the window when a mighty crash literally shook the cabin. We turned to the sound and were horrified to see an enormous shaggy face pressed against the window. A bear had slammed his paws onto the wall and was standing up on his haunches, with only a pane of glass between us. He stared at us and didn’t show any signs of leaving (even when we said “shoo, bear!”). I think the popcorn was calling to him.
We hollered and banged pans together to no avail. Finally, my “shoo bear” sister started thwacking the pans against the window. We were terrified that the window would break! But the bear apparently didn’t appreciate percussion “music” in his face. He eventually pushed himself away from the window and blithely wandered off in search of a friendlier party. And maybe someone who would share their popcorn.
Tahoe
After decades in Yosemite, the Family Encampment moved to Tahoe. Our first bear encounter there was in the campsite next to ours. We were camping in tents this time, and our neighboring campers kept all their food in their screened food tent (instead of properly putting it in the bear-proof lockers provided). It was no surprise to us, but apparently it was to them, that a bear came into their camp that night and totally destroyed their food tent. Yogi Bear had nothing on him for ruining a picnic.
Another year at the Tahoe Encampment we were roasting marshmallows and making s’mores around the campfire when a bear sauntered into our campground. Unfortunately, we hadn’t taken our garbage to the bear-proof dumpster yet. The bear made a beeline for the garbage sack, which was hanging on the end of the picnic table about 20 feet from us.
Before he decided to come after our s’mores, our heroic men went to chase him off. One of them was behind the bear when he turned right around and they practically Eskimo-kissed. Heart pounding nearly out of his chest, the guy hurriedly backpedaled out of the bear’s way. Thankfully, the bear drifted off to see what mischief he could cause in other camps.
Too close for comfort
The last encounter we had with one of God’s furry-but-not-cuddly creatures was about 10 or so years ago. My 2 daughters and I were tent camping with my sister’s family at the Tahoe encampment. My older daughter had her own pup tent next to the slightly larger tent I shared with my younger daughter.
In the middle of the night, I woke up to a noisy, clamoring racket and heard people hollering about a bear. Then I heard heavy—really heavy—footsteps.
Where’s that bear?
Now, black bears are definitely dangerous wild animals, but they generally don’t hurt humans if they aren’t provoked. It’s important to know this. My daughter in her sleeping bag next to me asked if it was a bear. I replied, “Yes, it’s a bear. It’s not going to hurt us, but it does sound like it’s in our camp.” We were mesmerized and a little bit terrified. I don’t know when I’ve strained my ears so much trying to hear where exactly that critter was.
Dun dun dun…
And then the footsteps stopped. We heard snuffling and grunting way closer than we wanted it to be, from the direction of my other daughter’s little one-person tent. I called softly to her to ask if the bear was near her. She said, in a very soft, shaky voice, “yes.” I asked if she was okay and she quietly said she was, but the bear was outside her tent and she was trying not to move. She was listening to him chew and hoping he was a fast eater.
Turns out the bear had gotten into the bear-proof dumpster because someone hadn’t latched it. He had grabbed some food and dragged it over to dine on the mat just outside my daughter’s tent flap. Literally about two feet and a bit of nylon between her and the feasting bear. Whose idea was it to put out a welcome mat, anyway?!
It was several long, tense minutes before he finished and walked nonchalantly past our tent. I was struck by his shadow silhouetted against our tent as he sauntered by. It looked just like the bear on the California state flag, even though it wasn’t a grizzly. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.
The bear passed between our tent and my niece’s tent, then around to my nephew’s small one-person tent—the kind that is basically just a little bigger than your body. He snuffled my nephew’s head through the nylon, leaving the lingering scent of his odiferous breath before he meandered on his merry way.
Anyone else need to powder your nose?
It will probably be no surprise to any woman reading this that all the females in all the nearby camps had to visit the rustic communal bathrooms as soon as we knew the bear was gone. And of course we all went together. By this time I was shaking like a leaf from delayed reaction to a bear having a midnight snack on my daughter’s doorstep. But we all survived, and I think that was the best bear story of all!
There’s nothing like a good bear story to start a conversation, and many of our friends have at least one. Do you? I’d love to hear it! I’m inspired by God’s creations in all of their forms, even bears. Just drop your story in the comments below. I can’t wait to read it! And sign up if you want to be notified of future posts and get a little behind-the-scenes intel.
