What not to do
when you are hiking.
One of the first rules of hiking is to never hike alone and never leave your hiking partner in the dust, especially if he's a complete novice.
So what's the first thing I do? Yep, leave my roommate 1/4-1/2 mile behind me. Ok, so we had pre-agreed on this. He wanted to take photos, which meant he would be moving slower, and I needed to train. And everything was going well, for a while.
At mile 4 or there abouts, I decided to stop and wait for him to catch up. We were the only ones on the back trail yesterday, and I wanted to make certain he was all right. That is when the reason you should never leave your hiking partner behind in your dust occurred. He found himself face to face with Momma bear
to view larger image click here
and her three cubs.
to view larger image click here
to view larger image click here
The photos are blurry because he was shaking. Luckily, he had enough sense to back off slowly and appear non-threatening. And then he got really frightened because the bear gathered up her cubs and bounded down the trail in my direction. She turned off the trail before she reached me. How I managed to avoid her when I walked through the same area, I don't know. I remember a lot of noise and rustling, but I didn't see anything. Not even a squirrel.
So now I see my roomie hustling down the trail into the valley to meet me. He's both pale and flushed at the same time, if that's possible. My first assumption, since it was an extremely warm day and he was, well, very overdressed, was that he was overheated. Which it turned out he was, but while I was trying to get him to rest, cool off, drink and eat, he was excitedly relating the tale of the bears and showing me his photos.
Once I got him settled down and hydrated and I was certain he could travel without falling over or fainting, I decided to cut the hike short and start the steep climb out of the valley and back to the car, watching for Momma bear all the way. Mother bears are unpredictable, and even though I was certain we were making enough noise to keep her away, I didn't want to take any chances. That, and my companion really didn't look well. We stopped every few feet, in the shade, so my roommate could rest and hydrate. And at one point we accidentally flushed a quail who was protecting her brood. I explained to my roommate that she was pretending to have a broken wing in order to draw us (the predators in her eyes) away from her chicks. I knew the nest had to be nearby. A couple steps later 6 quail chicks scurried and squeaked in every direction and I found myself yelling back at my roomie to "not step on the baby quail". Quail chicks, by the way, are little high pitched speed demons.
A couple hours later, we made it back to the car. A few minutes rest, and my much cooler companion was ready to head out to report the bear to the local ranger--other hikers need to be aware she's there--grab a icey cold drink at the local gas station store and head out to meet a friend (who we had invited to join the hike, and is probably glad she didn't) for dinner and conversation.
All in all, a pleasant and uneventful day. ;-)
One of the first rules of hiking is to never hike alone and never leave your hiking partner in the dust, especially if he's a complete novice.
So what's the first thing I do? Yep, leave my roommate 1/4-1/2 mile behind me. Ok, so we had pre-agreed on this. He wanted to take photos, which meant he would be moving slower, and I needed to train. And everything was going well, for a while.
At mile 4 or there abouts, I decided to stop and wait for him to catch up. We were the only ones on the back trail yesterday, and I wanted to make certain he was all right. That is when the reason you should never leave your hiking partner behind in your dust occurred. He found himself face to face with Momma bear
and her three cubs.
The photos are blurry because he was shaking. Luckily, he had enough sense to back off slowly and appear non-threatening. And then he got really frightened because the bear gathered up her cubs and bounded down the trail in my direction. She turned off the trail before she reached me. How I managed to avoid her when I walked through the same area, I don't know. I remember a lot of noise and rustling, but I didn't see anything. Not even a squirrel.
So now I see my roomie hustling down the trail into the valley to meet me. He's both pale and flushed at the same time, if that's possible. My first assumption, since it was an extremely warm day and he was, well, very overdressed, was that he was overheated. Which it turned out he was, but while I was trying to get him to rest, cool off, drink and eat, he was excitedly relating the tale of the bears and showing me his photos.
Once I got him settled down and hydrated and I was certain he could travel without falling over or fainting, I decided to cut the hike short and start the steep climb out of the valley and back to the car, watching for Momma bear all the way. Mother bears are unpredictable, and even though I was certain we were making enough noise to keep her away, I didn't want to take any chances. That, and my companion really didn't look well. We stopped every few feet, in the shade, so my roommate could rest and hydrate. And at one point we accidentally flushed a quail who was protecting her brood. I explained to my roommate that she was pretending to have a broken wing in order to draw us (the predators in her eyes) away from her chicks. I knew the nest had to be nearby. A couple steps later 6 quail chicks scurried and squeaked in every direction and I found myself yelling back at my roomie to "not step on the baby quail". Quail chicks, by the way, are little high pitched speed demons.
A couple hours later, we made it back to the car. A few minutes rest, and my much cooler companion was ready to head out to report the bear to the local ranger--other hikers need to be aware she's there--grab a icey cold drink at the local gas station store and head out to meet a friend (who we had invited to join the hike, and is probably glad she didn't) for dinner and conversation.
All in all, a pleasant and uneventful day. ;-)
