.jpg)
The massive black bear leaped onto the road right next to me.
“Go, Davy, go!” I screamed in terror. “He’s chasing you! Pedal fast!”
Only moments ago, the 300 pound black bear had been standing a mere four feet from my side. Now, I stood, rooted in place, and watched it chase my ten-year-old son down the road.
“Go, baby!” I shouted. “Pedal!”
Click here to see a slideshow of cycling through the area.
My husband and I, along with our twin sons, were pedaling the Alaska Highway in British Columbia that July day in 2008. As a family, the four of us had cycled over 11,000 miles through three countries and had never had a problem. We had pedaled 1,500 miles through bear country in Alaska and Canada, and had seen a wide variety of the animals. But always, they either ignored us and continued grazing, or turned around and fled when they saw us. This bear, however, was different.
It had been a long day on the road. After cycling sixty miles, we were tired and looking for a suitable spot for our tent. My husband and other son were a kilometer or two ahead of Davy and me as we pedaled wearily on our heavily-laden bikes.
“Look!” I cried. “A bear! Over there! See him grazing in the ditch?”
“Wow!” Davy murmured in wonder. “He’s huge.”
Bears, in general, are afraid of humans and do their best to stay away. As we traveled through the Yukon and British Columbia we had grown accustomed to seeing bears grazing quietly in the ditch on the side of the road.
Motorists frequently left the safety of their vehicles to get better photos of the bears. I often marveled at how close people got to the animals, and yet the bears seemed uninterested in them. Motorists, however, had the safety of their vehicles to retreat to. As bicyclists, we had no cover at all. I vowed to stay well away from any wild animal I encountered.
Davy and I pulled to the opposite side of the road and stopped a respectable distance away – I had a good telephoto lens and had no need to get close. I had just pulled my camera out of my handlebar bag when the bear came up to the road and lumbered toward us. We froze.
“Holy cow!” I exclaimed quietly. “He’s coming this way. Bears aren’t supposed to come toward people!”
A few moments later, the bear turned and headed back down into the ditch thirty feet away, apparently unconcerned with our presence.
Our hearts resumed beating and we began breathing once again. I stashed my camera and we readied ourselves to take off.
All of a sudden, the bear leaped up onto the road right beside us. My heart skipped a beat or two as I struggled to maintain my composure.
(Continue to part 2 of the story)
Comments