An Afternoon With Ursus Americanus

It began as a typical summer afternoon. The planned hike was quite short compared to my usual adventures, but the harsh sunlight made me relish the protection of intermittent tree canopies. My destination was a waterfall, but the highlights were to be found off-trail.

The trail followed a creek upstream through a winding valley. Below the trail on the south-facing slope, vegetation was dense and berry-bearing bushes were plentiful. This is excellent bear habitat, but it is easy to become complacent after many hikes without bear sightings. The only signs of wildlife, other than insects, were various tracks across the damp sections of trail.

Little more than 15 minutes from my destination, I looked across the valley as I rounded a corner and noticed an unusual object around 500 ft away. At that distance, it was difficult to identify the golden object under intense sunlight. Suddenly, the round object moved! A blond black bear ambled through steep ground and shrubs, seemingly unaware of my presence.

 

Immediately, I raised my camera and started to shoot, using the medium telephoto lens to get a better view of the magnificent creature. Within around 20 seconds, the bear had disappeared into dense foliage.

After reaching my destination and relaxing by a high country waterfall, I made my way back down the trail. My thoughts were of the bear, and I wondered if I would catch another glimpse (perhaps a little closer). I looked intently at the opposite side of the valley as I passed the location of the sighting, but the bear was either still hidden or had moved to a new spot in the time that I had been away.

I made my way along the undulating trail, checking my surroundings for movement from time to time. Occasionally, the ripe northern gooseberries were too tempting to resist, and they made a sweet distraction from the still-intense sunlight.

Around an hour passed until I saw a large, dark object to my left. Much close than last time, a different black bear was foraging. Darker than the last one, but seemingly unaware of my presence again, the bear wandered through grass and shrubs in the lush vegetation near the stream. Perhaps 100 ft uphill, a nearby mule deer seemed to sense the bear's presence and changed direction. The bear moved quite slowly, and so I had the chance to observe from a safe distance.

The noise of the stream helped to hide any sounds that I made, so I could experience this rare treat without interruption. Despite his or her size and bulky shape, the bear moved with ease though rough terrain and vegetation, using a very sensitive nose and dextrous paws to search for food.
 
As I prepared to leave, I exchanged glances with a Native American symbol of strength and courage. After just a few seconds, the bear returned to foraging, and I continued along the trail.

Black bears are facing ever-increasing human encroachment on their habitats. These great animals are worthy of our respect. They are not the killers shown in movies, but they are wild animals that play an important part in the ecosystems of the North American wilderness.

FromTheHighCountry.com

As the Snow Melts

On this first day of spring, I can look around and see that, while the snow around my house can only be found in grimy-looking piles, the mountains are still blanketed. My favorite trails are still buried under several feet of snow. Still, the big thaw is happening, even if it isn't always readily apparent.

The first green shoots and, even better, the first flowers are just weeks or maybe days away. For me, watching the wilderness change is like a gardener and his or her prize tomatoes, or even an animal lover and a young pet. So many people look for a meadow or an aspen stand, but there is also incredible beauty in a fresh leaf or an intricate flower.

With many dirt roads and worn trails, the springtime melting leads to a 'mud season', which is not much fun. Even so, it is an essential part of the yearly cycle of life. Melting snow and ice in the mountains fills streams and rivers, and allows plant life to flourish, which in turn provides food for wildlife.

In some ways, spring is a very dramatic time of the year. In a matter of weeks, the natural world transitions from night (winter) to a new dawn (spring).

This spring will mark a new beginning for From The High Country, too. My new book, San Juan Inspirations will be released this summer, as will a new-look 2014 calendar. To learn more about the book, click here.

Wildlife Conflict

It is an unfortunate fact of life that where people choose to live, there are often problems with wildlife. Perhaps the local deer take a liking to flower beds or cross the road just as people drive by, or maybe a bear tears open a bag of trash. When people and wildlife meet, it is up to us to adapt. After all, it's a small price to pay for living away from the cities and suburbs, and we can hardly negotiate with nature! We have to keep attractants away from the bears, and either sacrifice a few flowers or protect them with wire.

Last year, at least five bears were killed in the small town of Lake City, Colorado. Each case was different, but many would agree that fear and ignorance were common factors. With a year-round population of around 400, that would mean that roughly one bear died for every 80 residents. I wonder if the many wildlife lovers who visit would feel comfortable with those figures.

While there are strong feelings on both sides, it is not something that is discussed very often (although there are a few passionate people working to change this). Some people think nothing of exploiting pictures of distressed bears in order to attract business, but do nothing to prevent more unnecessary bear fatalities.

Chris Parmeter, a wildlife officer for Colorado Parks and Wildlife, wrote a painfully honest account of his dealings with so-called problem bears, and the harrowing, tragic final encounter he had with one bear. I encourage you all to read it, especially if you live in or visit bear country - click here.

Pathfinders

My small town has two cemeteries. There is an 'old' one and a 'new' one, although both contain the graves of those who died many decades ago. The town was incorporated before Colorado became a state, so there is a great deal of history within the boundaries of the cemeteries.

Life in the mountains was hard at the turn of the last century. Infant mortality rates were evidently very high, and many adults only lived into their 40's. While headstones did not list a cause of death, those that did described accidents, which is of little surprise in this environment, especially when mining was the main industry during the early years.

Despite being next to the busiest road, the cemeteries were very peaceful. Tall trees provided cover from the midday sun, and the slopes were covered with leaf litter rather than the usual grass. Playful squirrels provide light relief from contemplation and introspection.

The various inscriptions would give anyone cause for reflection. Many of the people who died here were pioneers who gave life to my town. The headstones ranged from simple wooden markers to hand carved marble, giving an indication of each person's wealth at the time of their death.

Some inscriptions listed achievements such as government positions or military ranks. At least four people undertook the same long journey as I did to get here (albeit by an entirely different mode of transportation). Other stones left no clues as to the lives that the deceased lived. All we can tell is that someone cared enough to leave a lasting record.

I don't have great aspirations to become a politician or to amass a fortune, but if the visit has taught me anything, it is that I should continue to follow my dreams, and that the bonds we make are far more important than a bank balance. Plan for tomorrow but live for today.