Post your favourite Bear pic(s)!

[Bazza]

After all....who doesn't like Bears?

 

[ValuJet]

 

[TIDE-HSV]

I've had too much trouble with them over the years backpacking. I don't have any favorites...

 

[Rattlehead82]

 

[cbi1972]

 

[Bazza]

Well played CBI1972.....well played! :wink:

 

[bamachile]

 

[DzynKingRTR]

Bears are cute until they eat you.

 

[CrimsonChuck]

 

[Bazza]

 

[TIDE-HSV]

After all....who doesn't like Bears?

My least favorite was the monster male that stole my wifes backpack in Sheep Pen Gap in the Smokeys. We had been with a bunch of people, but we stayed over Sunday night and he showed up late afternoon. The deer grazing in the gap were looking nervous and kept looking back over their shoulders towards Gregory Bald. Liz had taken a nap, and I was reading, sitting on a downed tree. I walked over and commented on the deer. She, looking over my shoulder said "OOH, I see, it's a bear and it's a big one." I ran him off several times by pelting him with rocks, but he came back at night. He knocked my pack over and I ran him off again. Then, around 7:00 AM, I heard a bonging sound. I woke thinking "bong?" We had red aluminum French snap-top canteens, which we hung up with our food, about 10' high. As I said, he was huge, but he could barely get off the ground. I remember having the inconguous thought that he might be black, but he sure as hell couldn't jump. I chased him off again and then told Liz that we should just pack up without eating and eat down the trail to Cades Cove, because he wasn't going to let us alone. After we got everything laid out, we discovered her pack was missing. (She loved that pack; it's still her favorite. We rebalanced our load, using the daypacks we had with us. I looked like a Sherpa going down the mountain.

Fast forward a week and I'd called the Cades Cove Ranger in charge and he gave me permission to go in to see if I could recover my wife's pack that I'd searched for that morning, even though they'd closed the site for bear problems. (It stays closed about as much as open.) I went in on the NC side at Twentyy-Mile Creek trailhead. As it happened, I parked right by a truck and the two adult men and a kid came walking up. I asked them where they'd camped and they said #13. I didn't let on that I knew they were illegal because it was closed. I asked them the same question I'd asked the rangers. "Has he learned to chew through ropes yet?" They said that he chewed through three different arrangement and they finally traded watches and stayed up all night. (The rangers kept saying "no," but they didn't know yet.) I didn't even bother to climb the mountain. No sense in losing another pack. The cable arrangements they have now are much better. I just stayed down in the Twenty-Mile campsite that night. Funny thing was I had an "Outside" magazine to read that night and one article was "Top Ten Undiscovered Camping Site in the Eastern US," or something to that effect. I went to sleep expecting to hear a thundering hoard coming down the trail to camp with me.

 

[Bazza]

This is nothing if not the cutest lil bear cub.....the camera operator refers to the cub as a "he" but "he" is really a "she".

There's some info on the video page if you care to read the back story....

 

[Bazza]

My least favorite was the monster male that stole my wifes backpack in Sheep Pen Gap in the Smokeys. We had been with a bunch of people, but we stayed over Sunday night and he showed up late afternoon. The deer grazing in the gap were looking nervous and kept looking back over their shoulders towards Gregory Bald. Liz had taken a nap, and I was reading, sitting on a downed tree. I walked over and commented on the deer. She, looking over my shoulder said "OOH, I see, it's a bear and it's a big one." I ran him off several times by pelting him with rocks, but he came back at night. He knocked my pack over and I ran him off again. Then, around 7:00 AM, I heard a bonging sound. I woke thinking "bong?" We had red aluminum French snap-top canteens, which we hung up with our food, about 10' high. As I said, he was huge, but he could barely get off the ground. I remember having the inconguous thought that he might be black, but he sure as hell couldn't jump. I chased him off again and then told Liz that we should just pack up without eating and eat down the trail to Cades Cove, because he wasn't going to let us alone. After we got everything laid out, we discovered her pack was missing. (She loved that pack; it's still her favorite. We rebalanced our load, using the daypacks we had with us. I looked like a Sherpa going down the mountain.

Fast forward a week and I'd called the Cades Cove Ranger in charge and he gave me permission to go in to see if I could recover my wife's pack that I'd searched for that morning, even though they'd closed the site for bear problems. (It stays closed about as much as open.) I went in on the NC side at Twentyy-Mile Creek trailhead. As it happened, I parked right by a truck and the two adult men and a kid came walking up. I asked them where they'd camped and they said #13. I didn't let on that I knew they were illegal because it was closed. I asked them the same question I'd asked the rangers. "Has he learned to chew through ropes yet?" They said that he chewed through three different arrangement and they finally traded watches and stayed up all night. (The rangers kept saying "no," but they didn't know yet.) I didn't even bother to climb the mountain. No sense in losing another pack. The cable arrangements they have now are much better. I just stayed down in the Twenty-Mile campsite that night. Funny thing was I had an "Outside" magazine to read that night and one article was "Top Ten Undiscovered Camping Site in the Eastern US," or something to that effect. I went to sleep expecting to hear a thundering hoard coming down the trail to camp with me.

Ha! Great story. At least he was polite enough not to try and eat you and Liz.

 

[TIDE-HSV]

Ha! Great story. At least he was polite enough not to try and eat you and Liz.

There are really only a couple of predatory bear attacks in the last century, where the bear actually stalked and killed a human. Unfortunately, I've camped very near both attacks, which happened in the east TN mountains, one near Cades Cove in the Smokey's and one further south at Chilhowee, TN.

My second least favorite was the yearling that robbed our food bag in the Wind River Range, WY, on our honeymoon, back in the mid-80s. It was our second morning in. We'd spot-packed in, on horseback, and were to backpack out. If you're going to stay 10 days, it's a great way to get more food in without resupply in the wilderness. We'd arrived in a storm and had to camp in a hurry, closer to the lake than allowed. The next day, I'd moved the tent uphill, but I left the food where it was, hung low, because it's not a bear sanctuary, and was, in fact, bear season. The next morning, I woke up, looked down the hill and my food rope was now a deep "Vee" shape and there was a smallish bear (about 175 or so, I'd say) dining on the bottom. I went yelling down the hill, throwing rocks as I went. (After all, the nearest human was 17 miles away and that food had to last for a while.) He ran back uphill. It turned out that he'd gone in from the top and bit into our lemon for the fish we hoped to catch. He didn't like that, so he went in from the bottom were the gorp and candy bars were. He liked that.

After all the excitement and going through the food (the gorp and candy was the only damage), Liz headed up the hill to a little copse of Aspen. I happened to glance up as she came running down the hill, pulling up her pants. Meanwhile the bear exited right running as fast as he could. They'd scared each other to death.

We'd buried the spoiled food as best we could, knowing that a bear could dig it out. Several days later, I pulled out a Snickers with a bear-tooth mark in the middle. I just shrugged and ate it. Sequel was that we made the first of two narrow escapes from the Wind Rivers. We'd hiked on a couple of miles further south to the South Fork Lakes and the Continental Divide, where we could look across the lakes at the Divide and the Lizard Head glacier. (Ever bathed in 33F water?)

Two days before our scheduled departured, I got up looked at the sky and said "We gotta go; snowstorm on the way." We hiked out the entire 19.5 miles that day over Bear's Ears Pass (about 11,800') and down to the dude ranch where we'd left our car. Liz hates me when I tell it, but she tried to quit on me within sight of the car and camp right there beside the trail. Her excuse was that you can see a long way out west. When we got to the ranch and got a room for the night, I took our packs over to the horse scales and weighed them. We'd had to carry out a couple days of food we'd have eaten that the horses had carried in. Lord, I'm not sure I could even breathe at 12,000' now. The next day, the snow hit. There was about 6" down in Dubois. Up at the pass, it would have been about crotch-high and we would never have made it. Originally, the plan had been to hike up and camp partway up to the pass, but the cirrus clouds kept getting thicker and thicker, so I had to lie a lot about where our progress was to keep Liz going.

We went back several years later with friends and the little black bear was a rug on the wall. He'd wandered over from the Shoshone reservation, where they don't hunt them. I wish I'd never told them about the incident. They took a hunter in the next week, knowing that the bear was at Valentine Lake. Don't know why the hunter didn't keep the pelt. Maybe it wasn't big enough. I'd be ashamed to shoot a bear that small. (Or any bear I had to have someone guide me to and hold my hand while I killed it...)

 

[mittman]

 

[Bazza]

There are really only a couple of predatory bear attacks in the last century, where the bear actually stalked and killed a human. Unfortunately, I've camped very near both attacks, which happened in the east TN mountains, one near Cades Cove in the Smokey's and one further south at Chilhowee, TN.

My second least favorite was the yearling that robbed our food bag in the Wind River Range, WY, on our honeymoon, back in the mid-80s. It was our second morning in. We'd spot-packed in, on horseback, and were to backpack out. If you're going to stay 10 days, it's a great way to get more food in without resupply in the wilderness. We'd arrived in a storm and had to camp in a hurry, closer to the lake than allowed. The next day, I'd moved the tent uphill, but I left the food where it was, hung low, because it's not a bear sanctuary, and was, in fact, bear season. The next morning, I woke up, looked down the hill and my food rope was now a deep "Vee" shape and there was a smallish bear (about 175 or so, I'd say) dining on the bottom. I went yelling down the hill, throwing rocks as I went. (After all, the nearest human was 17 miles away and that food had to last for a while.) He ran back uphill. It turned out that he'd gone in from the top and bit into our lemon for the fish we hoped to catch. He didn't like that, so he went in from the bottom were the gorp and candy bars were. He liked that.

After all the excitement and going through the food (the gorp and candy was the only damage), Liz headed up the hill to a little copse of Aspen. I happened to glance up as she came running down the hill, pulling up her pants. Meanwhile the bear exited right running as fast as he could. They'd scared each other to death.

We'd buried the spoiled food as best we could, knowing that a bear could dig it out. Several days later, I pulled out a Snickers with a bear-tooth mark in the middle. I just shrugged and ate it. Sequel was that we made the first of two narrow escapes from the Wind Rivers. We'd hiked on a couple of miles further south to the South Fork Lakes and the Continental Divide, where we could look across the lakes at the Divide and the Lizard Head glacier. (Ever bathed in 33F water?)

Two days before our scheduled departure, I got up looked at the sky and said "We gotta go; snowstorm on the way." We hiked out the entire 19.5 miles that day over Bear's Ears Pass (about 11,800') and down to the dude ranch where we'd left our car. Liz hates me when I tell it, but she tried to quit on me within sight of the car and camp right there beside the trail. Her excuse was that you can see a long way out west. When we got to the ranch and got a room for the night, I took our packs over to the horse scales and weighed them. We'd had to carry out a couple days of food we'd have eaten that the horses had carried in. Lord, I'm not sure I could even breathe at 12,000' now. The next day, the snow hit. There was about 6" down in Dubois. Up at the pass, it would have been about crotch-high and we would never have made it. Originally, the plan had been to hike up and camp partway up to the pass, but the cirrus clouds kept getting thicker and thicker, so I had to lie a lot about where our progress was to keep Liz going.

We went back several years later with friends and the little black bear was a rug on the wall. He'd wandered over from the Shoshone reservation, where they don't hunt them. I wish I'd never told them about the incident. They took a hunter in the next week, knowing that the bear was at Valentine Lake. Don't know why the hunter didn't keep the pelt. Maybe it wasn't big enough. I'd be ashamed to shoot a bear that small. (Or any bear I had to have someone guide me to and hold my hand while I killed it...)

What a great story...thanks so much for sharing, Earle. I am jealous that you and Liz have had such exciting adventures in the wild. It reminds me that we have so much beautiful country and natural resources in the US. FWIW we did take a few family vacations out west when I was young and camped out at various parks and so forth including Yellowstone and Mt. Rushmore, etc. Plus I grew up in Virginia and we went to the Blue Ridge Mountains a lot on family weekend trips and then later in the Cub and Boy Scouts we did a fair amount of camping out. I do remember a few bear sightings but not as 'interesting' as yours!

Glad you two survived that adventure....but sorry to hear about the little cub.

 

[TIDE-HSV]

What a great story...thanks so much for sharing, Earle. I am jealous that you and Liz have had such exciting adventures in the wild. It reminds me that we have so much beautiful country and natural resources in the US. FWIW we did take a few family vacations out west when I was young and camped out at various parks and so forth including Yellowstone and Mt. Rushmore, etc. Plus I grew up in Virginia and we went to the Blue Ridge Mountains a lot on family weekend trips and then later in the Cub and Boy Scouts we did a fair amount of camping out. I do remember a few bear sightings but not as 'interesting' as yours!

Glad you two survived that adventure....but sorry to hear about the little cub.

I've spent so much time with them, I have a bunch more, but I'm afraid people will get bored with them. The little bear the guys killed wasn't really a cub. He was about 170-180 lb, IOW a yearling who'd probably just got kicked out my his mom, but pretty green. I've had another thought about his demise, which just occurred to me after all these years. Since the pelt was on the outfitters wall, I really think they killed him. (They have bear licenses also.) I'm not sure a trophy hunter would have wanted him. However, bear meat, particularly young ones is usually pretty good and similar to beef, if it's treated like good beef. That is to say that if it's dry aged for a week or two, to let the enzymes in the meat start to break down the collagen. (Most beef you buy in a supermarket is "wet-aged," vaccuum-bagged for a short period of time). If it's butchered promptly and dry aged, it's very similar to indistinguishable from beef. I've had it once and could hardly tell the difference. (Our pioneers ate a lot of bear, used the fat for tallow and wasted practically none of it.) That leads to my conclusion that the outfitters killed it for meat. It was again, a young bear, which means that the flesh was still much more tender than an older sinewy bear and it just wasn't big enough for a trophy. I'd add that this was a wilderness bear, eating natural foods, well except for our Snickers and gorp, and wouldn't have had the offtaste that a dumpster-diver bear would have had...

 

[dayhiker]

Earle, I think I've shared this story with you before, but my wife and I were camping at Standing Indian campground in NC. It was a little rainy, but Saturday morning we started our dayhike. We were doing a loop of Kemsey Creek trail (I think that's the name), then connecting to the AT and looping back to camp. It was 12 miles and had probably 2000' of gain and loss. We get to the AT intersection and it had only been sprinkling. We're taking a break and looking at the map. It starts to thunder. My wife notices a sign that talks about aggressive bears in the area, hikers be warned, and it had been known to steal packs. It's maybe 1-2 miles to the Standing Indian shelter and the thunder picks up. We decide to pick up the pace and try to get the shelter before the rain hits. We don't make it. Lightning is popping around us and we're really moving. We get to the shelter and I immediately break out the stove. I had brought some grilled chicken and we were going to add it to some fettuccine alfredo. She thinks I'm doing nothing but ringing the dinner bell and is nervous as can be. We were above cloud level and couldn't see anything hardly. I hear her scream and look up to see this big, black mass bounding towards the shelter. She freaks out big time. It was a hikers black lab. After the storm is over we hike down the mountain, pull up the tent pegs, throw it under the camper shell, open both truck doors, strip buck naked and change clothes behind the doors without carrying who in the world sees, hop in and head the heck back to Alabama. That was the wettest trip I can remember....plus, we saw a bear, sorta.

 

[Bazza]

I've spent so much time with them, I have a bunch more, but I'm afraid people will get bored with them. The little bear the guys killed wasn't really a cub. He was about 170-180 lb, IOW a yearling who'd probably just got kicked out my his mom, but pretty green. I've had another thought about his demise, which just occurred to me after all these years. Since the pelt was on the outfitters wall, I really think they killed him. (They have bear licenses also.) I'm not sure a trophy hunter would have wanted him. However, bear meat, particularly young ones is usually pretty good and similar to beef, if it's treated like good beef. That is to say that if it's dry aged for a week or two, to let the enzymes in the meat start to break down the collagen. (Most beef you buy in a supermarket is "wet-aged," vacuum-bagged for a short period of time). If it's butchered promptly and dry aged, it's very similar to indistinguishable from beef. I've had it once and could hardly tell the difference. (Our pioneers ate a lot of bear, used the fat for tallow and wasted practically none of it.) That leads to my conclusion that the outfitters killed it for meat. It was again, a young bear, which means that the flesh was still much more tender than an older sinewy bear and it just wasn't big enough for a trophy. I'd add that this was a wilderness bear, eating natural foods, well except for our Snickers and gorp, and wouldn't have had the off-taste that a dumpster-diver bear would have had...

I would love to hear more stories....hey it's the off season.....besides who doesn't enjoy hearing adventure tales!

I still feel sorry for the little yearling fella.

 

[TIDE-HSV]

I know that exact loop. I've done it a couple of times. That whole area is known for trouble bears. The campground is beautiful, but I only have a popup for RV camping and that means putting all the gear in the truck at night. But you're right that everything looms larger in the fog. Once, I stayed in that shelter and had a funny thing happen. Our group got there first but we were joined by a large group of UGA and USC med students. They had a mini-reunion there every year for the football game and to get drunk and rowdy. One of our guys got so upset, he took his plastic ground sheet, went out front and rolled up in it and slept there, in the rain. (You remember the shelter is set back a way from the AT.) In the AM, the students were all sleeping in and had to answer the call of nature, so I left the shelter and went down the steep slope behind the shelter in the rhododendron. Remembering that the student group was about half female, I kept going a little further. When I climbed back up, the shelter had vanished! (The fog had really gotten thick.) I finally decided to quarter up the mountain to my left (NW), since the AT runs right along the ridge, I'd be sure to cut it and the shelter would be to my right. Just as I got to the trail, I almost stepped on a huge buck with a big rack which was sleeping right by the trail. I don't know which of us was scared worse. I've been turned around many times, but that was the first for a poop expedition...