The Rewards of an Early Start

Sunday morning promised rain. I therefore awoke early, knowing that I needed to get outside for a bit. What awaited me was an absolutely glorious morning.

My reward for waking before sunrise was arguably the most spectacular dawn I have ever witnessed. The fiery eastern sky drew me out of the cabin and towards the lake. The silence was as riviting as the sky: no one was around, the lake was still, the birds were just beginning to stir and a bright mix of pinks and purples were lighting the horizon. An inspiring sight. I felt fortunate to have witnessed it.

After a quick breakfast and a bit of coffee, Ezra and I headed out for an early morning stroll. Even with a light rain just starting, my hike through a mixed northern forest added to the splendor of the day. This ATV trail is the closest thing we have to a trail around here, so there is always the reality that a four-wheeler could come around the corner. But considering the time, and the fact that I am near the end of a dead-end trail, the chances of being disturbed by these machines are quite slim.

As far as hikes go their is very little to rave about. Because it is an ATV trail, it is wide and fairly well used, there is very little terrain to speak of, and in the middle of a hike are the results of a "100 year" forest-cut. Although the hike makes its way through a pleasant woods it is not difficult to recognize it as a managed forest. I see no "old trees" and the majority of what I see are similar in size. But at least I am alone and moving.

Towards the far end of my out and back hike I stumble across a decomposed carcass. It is the remains of a large animal, probably a deer. What is interesting about this is that the carcass is pretty far gone, and yet when I walked this exact same path on Memorial Day weekend I saw nothing. The only thought that makes sense to me is that of a poacher. I hope I am wrong. I hope it is wolves, or wild dogs.

But after seeing the carcass I moved forward, eventually turning west onto what is called Boundary Road. It is a seldom used gravel road that cuts around Blueberry Lake and connects Hwy CC and Hwy H. I had not taken this route before, and because of the rain I figured this would be less wet. The road was quite straight with a small gradual climb up a lengthy hill.

As my eyes climbed the hill, trying to decide where I should give up on this weather and turn around, I noticed two black spots at the top of the gravel road. Before I could make sense of it they had moved across the road. "Damn! Those were bear" I said aloud. I stopped, angry at myself for not recognizing it quicker, and for not having my camera in my hand. Then just as I grabbed my camera they reappeared, one at a time. Just for me. They hung around for a bit, and then both slowly moved off to the woods, back to where they came from.

No this wasn't the same heart-stopping, pulse-racing bear encounter that I have had in the past. It was nothing like the face to face meeting I had when I was backpacking and fly-fishing in "The Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness" in Idaho in 1997; or the "sow and her cub" crossing the trail 50 yards in front of me in Colorado in 2007; or even the big male running in front of our van in Rusk County in 2002. It was nothing nearly this exciting. Yet it was still a bear. Two of them to be accurate. And bear are good karma. Bear are good for the soul. I know my summer will be better because I saw a bear. Two bear to be completely accurate.