It was not actually supposed to be our last day. Our plan was to hike all day and find a campsite from which we could get back to Jackson by early afternoon on Friday, leaving ourselves time to clean up, shop a little, and have a relaxing final evening in town. The most direct route back was less than a day’s walk, so we decided to go back only as far as the trail that led northeast back to town, then turn the opposite direction and hike a couple of hours up the Granite Highline Trail. After seeing the bears Monday night on a wooded hillside above our first camp, we associated bears with woods, and the Granite Highline Trail looked like it offered plenty of open, unforested areas for camping. 
By early afternoon, we were on the Granite Highline Trail and climbing steeply. At one point we looked back and discovered we had an unobstructed view of Jackson, some 11 or 12 miles away, at the end of a long valley with mountains on either side and the Cache Creek flowing down the middle. We hadn’t had any luck getting reception on my cell phone since entering the Gros Ventre, but I figured if we could get a signal anywhere it would be here, so I turned on my phone and it alternated between one bar and none. I called Sam, started talking and lost her, called again and lost her again. We tried texting and that worked better – probably because it only takes a split second of reception for a text message to get through.
As we climbed higher, the trees grew fewer and the view down the valley behind us opened up wider. In the picture below, you can barely see Jackson, just to the left of center, in front of the dome-shaped hill.
Near the top of the ridge we’d been climbing, the trail came to a hollow filled with snow. After skirting around the edge, we couldn’t find the trail. Around and around we tramped, looking for any sign of it. Eventually we found a clear path with a more southerly bearing than we’d been on, but still with a good claim, we thought, to being the right trail. Even if it wasn’t, it didn’t matter, because we decided we’d gone about as far as we’d planned to, and we started looking for a campsite. We had trouble finding just the right place. At the top of the ridge the wind was too strong. Most other places were too steep, or the vegetation too thick.
We had just settled on a place in a small depression where there were a few square feet of nearly level ground when we spotted a lone bear slowly ambling up the ridge not far from the very trail we’d climbed a few minutes before. When we first spotted him, he was about 150 yards off. He seemed to be foraging, taking a few steps, then burying his head in the thick vegetation to munch on something, then advancing a few more steps. He was aware of us but any concerns he might have had seemed to be outweighed by his enjoyment of whatever he was eating.
We got back on the trail and moved away from him until we were fairly sure we were out of his personal space, then turned around and watched. Although my heart was pounding, I had the presence of mind to ask Natalie for the camera. In the bright sunlight, I couldn’t see the bear on the screen, but I aimed in the right general direction and snapped this picture:
The above pictures was taken shortly before we made it back to the start of the Granite Highline Trail. We were maybe 100 yards from the intersection, talking loudly and keeping our eyes peeled, when I saw a black bear stand up and look at us from a clump of trees to the left of the trail just a little past the intersection. I pointed it out to Natalie, and an instant later, she saw a cub scurry up one of the trees near the mother. After standing to see us, mom went back down on all fours and took a few steps to the right, placing her even closer to the trail. After that, we couldn’t see her; the undergrowth was too tall.
I couldn’t believe we were having another bear sighting less than two hours since the last one, and our third since the start of our trip. Like the first, this one involved at least one cub and a protective mother. But unlike the bears in the earlier episodes, these were directly in our path. Or at least they had been. When last seen, the cub was climbing a tree and mom was just a few steps to the left of our trail, a couple hundred yards ahead of us. How were we going to handle this one? We backed up about 50 yards and sat down to think.
To be continued…
We had just settled on a place in a small depression where there were a few square feet of nearly level ground when we spotted a lone bear slowly ambling up the ridge not far from the very trail we’d climbed a few minutes before. When we first spotted him, he was about 150 yards off. He seemed to be foraging, taking a few steps, then burying his head in the thick vegetation to munch on something, then advancing a few more steps. He was aware of us but any concerns he might have had seemed to be outweighed by his enjoyment of whatever he was eating.
We got back on the trail and moved away from him until we were fairly sure we were out of his personal space, then turned around and watched. Although my heart was pounding, I had the presence of mind to ask Natalie for the camera. In the bright sunlight, I couldn’t see the bear on the screen, but I aimed in the right general direction and snapped this picture:
Can you see the "bear dot" near the top, a little left of center? It was hard enough to see in full-screen view before I uploaded it, but in this smaller version it's almost impossible. Here it is again, enlarged and cropped:
Still not very impressive, I know, but trust me when I say he was much closer than he appears in the picture. We could see him distinctly and were acutely aware that, at full bear speed, he was only a few seconds away. He seemed in no hurry and continued to forage, slowly climbing up the ridge, occasionally looking our way. After several tense minutes, he turned around and headed back down at a leisurely pace, pausing less often to nibble than he had on his way up.
I’ve been referring to the bear as “he” only because it was not accompanied by cubs, but for all I know it was a female. I think it was a black bear, but there again I’m not sure. There are grizzlies in the Gros Ventre. In any case, after we lost sight of him, we didn’t exactly breathe a sigh of relief. Just as when we’d spotted the mother and her cubs on our first night, we had to decide whether to stay put or pick up and move to another place where we could indulge the illusion that there were no bears. The situation was a little different this time in that it was earlier and we had not actually pitched our tent yet. Our theory that we were less likely to encounter bears out in the open had been blown. Although we were a good distance from any trees, we were apparently surrounded by plants that were on the bears’ diet.
We opted to relocate. Since we didn’t want to go further from Jackson and extend the next day’s hike, we headed back down toward the trail along Cache Creek that led to Jackson. We were aware we might be following the bear we had just seen, but the odds that he was taking the same path seemed small enough.
As we came back down Granite Highline Trail, we were models of the “bear awareness” wildlife experts preach. We talked loudly to warn any bears of our approach, kept our heads up instead of staring at our feet, and I walked in front since I carried the bear spray. Although we were preoccupied by thoughts of bears, we weren’t totally oblivious to the natural beauty around us. I loved the stands of aspen trees we often came across, and we saw several that afternoon. They are especially beautiful when framed by a forest of the lodgepole pines that are everywhere in the Gros Ventre, as in these pictures:
I’ve been referring to the bear as “he” only because it was not accompanied by cubs, but for all I know it was a female. I think it was a black bear, but there again I’m not sure. There are grizzlies in the Gros Ventre. In any case, after we lost sight of him, we didn’t exactly breathe a sigh of relief. Just as when we’d spotted the mother and her cubs on our first night, we had to decide whether to stay put or pick up and move to another place where we could indulge the illusion that there were no bears. The situation was a little different this time in that it was earlier and we had not actually pitched our tent yet. Our theory that we were less likely to encounter bears out in the open had been blown. Although we were a good distance from any trees, we were apparently surrounded by plants that were on the bears’ diet.
We opted to relocate. Since we didn’t want to go further from Jackson and extend the next day’s hike, we headed back down toward the trail along Cache Creek that led to Jackson. We were aware we might be following the bear we had just seen, but the odds that he was taking the same path seemed small enough.
As we came back down Granite Highline Trail, we were models of the “bear awareness” wildlife experts preach. We talked loudly to warn any bears of our approach, kept our heads up instead of staring at our feet, and I walked in front since I carried the bear spray. Although we were preoccupied by thoughts of bears, we weren’t totally oblivious to the natural beauty around us. I loved the stands of aspen trees we often came across, and we saw several that afternoon. They are especially beautiful when framed by a forest of the lodgepole pines that are everywhere in the Gros Ventre, as in these pictures:
The above pictures was taken shortly before we made it back to the start of the Granite Highline Trail. We were maybe 100 yards from the intersection, talking loudly and keeping our eyes peeled, when I saw a black bear stand up and look at us from a clump of trees to the left of the trail just a little past the intersection. I pointed it out to Natalie, and an instant later, she saw a cub scurry up one of the trees near the mother. After standing to see us, mom went back down on all fours and took a few steps to the right, placing her even closer to the trail. After that, we couldn’t see her; the undergrowth was too tall.
I couldn’t believe we were having another bear sighting less than two hours since the last one, and our third since the start of our trip. Like the first, this one involved at least one cub and a protective mother. But unlike the bears in the earlier episodes, these were directly in our path. Or at least they had been. When last seen, the cub was climbing a tree and mom was just a few steps to the left of our trail, a couple hundred yards ahead of us. How were we going to handle this one? We backed up about 50 yards and sat down to think.
To be continued…
I love reading about the bears and am envious that you got to see them in their natural habitat. However, had I actually been there I probably would have peed in my pants. :) You and Natalie handled it well.
ReplyDelete