Montana Bears & Me

I have a thing for bears.

I don’t know exactly what it is but I find them intriguing, rugged, and yet curiously “cuddly.”

One of my favorite all-time photos is of a black bear sitting at a picnic table.  Its ears are erect, as is its posture.  The look on its face is priceless–patient, polite and expectant.  You can almost read his thoughts:   “Okay, I’m ready.  Please present me a pot roast or a huckleberry pie.”

Bears have an agility and athleticism I find surprising.  How is it a black bear that weighs anywhere from 150 to 250 pounds has the balance to climb across a rope and reach the edible “prize” inside a bird house?  The pictures just crack me up.

Maybe my curiosity comes from several close encounters.  One morning while canoeing on the Bitterroot River with my wife and two youngest kids not far from my home, we saw something swim across the river about 500 yards downstream.  As we got closer, we realized it was a black bear.  When we silently floated by, we saw it standing on its hind legs eating berries off a bush.  It turned, saw us, got this look of horror on its face and started sprinting up the mountainside at full speed.  At that point, we whooped and hollered as it never broke stride until lumbering out of sight.  A great memory.

A couple of summers ago, I was fly fishing with my brother on a stream in the Bitterroot Mountains.  As I worked hole after hole, I heard a branch snap.  I looked up and there was a black bear about 30 feet up a tree some 25 yards from where I stood.  I yelled to my brother to come see.  The bear’s head shot around, its ears immediately perked up and there was that look of horror again.  It flew down that tree like a fireman shooting down a fire pole, snapping off branches along the way.  I was fascinated as I watched, then quickly realized I hoped it was spooked and not angry.  After all, I don’t think I could fend it off with a 5-weight fly fishing rod.  Luckily, when he hit the ground, he bolted the opposite direction from me into the underbrush.  Good times!

My job opened the door for several up close experiences.  One time I was with wildlife biologists as they transferred a young grizzly who got stuck in a bear resistant garbage container back into the wild, but they made me stay in my truck as it bounded away to freedom.

Several years ago, I accompanied a group of wildlife biologists into the backcountry above Seeley Lake with a camera to get video of their work for a grizzly bear population study.  Much like when I hunt in grizzly country, we kept checking over our shoulders to make sure nothing was sneaking up on us. 

A couple of years later, as part of that same study, I discovered hilarious motion-sensitive video of grizzly and black bears rubbing up against trees.  They  became known as the “dancing bears.”

My best memory is one I shared with the world.  On September 9, 2003, I grabbed a camera and headed out on my dinner break to check on the report of a black bear up a tree in the Missoula city limits.  One thing led to another and the tranquilized bear fell out of the tree, bounced on a trampoline, went airborne, then plummeted back to earth and landed on its face.  The video went across the country and around the world in a matter of days.)

I do hope to have more bear encounters and I think my fascination with them will only increase over time.  Now, if I could just see a grizzly in the wild–as long as it’s not my final encounter EVER (if you know what I mean.)