In late September, I was headed along Slough Creek in Yellowstone's backcountry. This hike follows an old wagon road--around the first turn, I came upon this guy. He was hard to miss.
People always ask me if I am afraid of wild animals, but since I can't think of any negative experiences I've had with them, I guess the answer is still no. My strategy is to remain calm and...visit.
"Hey, so I just got going here. I am not really ready for a rest yet." Grunt, grunt. "Ok, I'll sit down. You realize that you freaked out those two people behind me, they went back to the car. I know, right? It's such a nice hike, too. You have good taste in hikes." Breathing. Tongue sticking out. "Do you have relatives in Medora? I was just there a few days ago, maybe it was your cousin who put his head on my picnic table while I was cooking. Nice guy, vegetarian. Psst, you've got something by your right horn, above your eye, your OTHER right horn...never mind, it looks good on you. I like the smell of pine needles in my hair, too."
This goes on for quite some time. (Jon has fallen asleep by now if he is reading this.)
"Ok, well, I am going to make my way around since you are not going to move. If I step on a bear, you had better gore him, because I'm detouring to be polite. That's what friends do, they extend these courtesies to each other. I detour, you gore. Remember your role."
I throw out a thumbs up, pick my way around, and continue hiking. Two hours later, close to sunset, I head back.
He's around a different bend, in a very tight spot, still on the trail. The safest place for me is on the trail. Scanning up one hill on the right and down one drop on the left, I figure I'm stuck for real this time.
"It's nice to see you! I did have a great hike, thanks for asking. There is an eagle down at the creek, and about a million chipmunks scurrying around. How was your afternoon grazing? Oh, good, I'm glad--you need to eat as much as you can before winter. Say...it really is time for me to get back, it's not smart for me to be walking after the sun goes down."
Nothing. I shift from foot to foot, thumbs hooked in the straps of my pack.
"Since we are friends now, the nice thing to do would be to move aside, so I can pass. Because friends take turns."
I shift again. Incredibly, he steps up and off the trail. We blink at each other, my face undoubtedly a mix of surprise and delight at this development. I cinch my pack tight so the poles don't rattle, breathe evenly, and use my quietest steps to brush by.
When I am a safe distance away, I look over my shoulder; he is back on the trail, watching me. While surely this is a coincidence, I can't help but grin.
 |
| Meep. |
People always ask me if I am afraid of wild animals, but since I can't think of any negative experiences I've had with them, I guess the answer is still no. My strategy is to remain calm and...visit.
"Hey, so I just got going here. I am not really ready for a rest yet." Grunt, grunt. "Ok, I'll sit down. You realize that you freaked out those two people behind me, they went back to the car. I know, right? It's such a nice hike, too. You have good taste in hikes." Breathing. Tongue sticking out. "Do you have relatives in Medora? I was just there a few days ago, maybe it was your cousin who put his head on my picnic table while I was cooking. Nice guy, vegetarian. Psst, you've got something by your right horn, above your eye, your OTHER right horn...never mind, it looks good on you. I like the smell of pine needles in my hair, too."
This goes on for quite some time. (Jon has fallen asleep by now if he is reading this.)
"Ok, well, I am going to make my way around since you are not going to move. If I step on a bear, you had better gore him, because I'm detouring to be polite. That's what friends do, they extend these courtesies to each other. I detour, you gore. Remember your role."
I throw out a thumbs up, pick my way around, and continue hiking. Two hours later, close to sunset, I head back.
He's around a different bend, in a very tight spot, still on the trail. The safest place for me is on the trail. Scanning up one hill on the right and down one drop on the left, I figure I'm stuck for real this time.
"It's nice to see you! I did have a great hike, thanks for asking. There is an eagle down at the creek, and about a million chipmunks scurrying around. How was your afternoon grazing? Oh, good, I'm glad--you need to eat as much as you can before winter. Say...it really is time for me to get back, it's not smart for me to be walking after the sun goes down."
Nothing. I shift from foot to foot, thumbs hooked in the straps of my pack.
"Since we are friends now, the nice thing to do would be to move aside, so I can pass. Because friends take turns."
I shift again. Incredibly, he steps up and off the trail. We blink at each other, my face undoubtedly a mix of surprise and delight at this development. I cinch my pack tight so the poles don't rattle, breathe evenly, and use my quietest steps to brush by.
When I am a safe distance away, I look over my shoulder; he is back on the trail, watching me. While surely this is a coincidence, I can't help but grin.
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| :) |
