I have seen bears from my car. I’ve seen a cute
cub up a tree in the village of West Stockbridge. I’ve seen a bear trying to
get into the dumpster in a state park. I’ve had a bear take down my bird
feeder. From inside my house, I’ve seen bears on my deck with just the sliding door between us.
But this is the first time I've seen a bear while hiking
solo. I heard it first, breaking sticks and moving the brush. It was walking
slowly directly away from me up a stone ridge near the trail. It turned, looked
at me for a long moment and then kept climbing the cliffs. I, of course, stopped and watched. I
lost sight of it but could still hear it moving.
I realized it was heading for my destination—Flag Rock
on the west side of Monument Mountain in Housatonic. I walked on a few minutes
and met a young woman walking quickly down the path.
“Did you see the bear? “ I asked.
“No, but I heard it,” She said. “I didn’t want to stick
around!”
I had to decide to continue on or not. I opted to continue
but walked slowly and started singing to let the bear know I was coming. The
only song I could think of at the moment was “Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on
the Wall”. It worked! I did not encounter the bear again.
Whenever I meet wildlife on the trail, I stop and watch, and
wait until the animal moves on. I let them have their space. Black bear are not
normally confrontational and I can appreciate their strength and power at a
distance. What a privilege!