Yosemite National Park
California
August 2003
We are on day six of an extraordinarily beautiful loop hike in one of my favorite places on Earth, Yosemite National Park. Tonight we are in the backpackers campground, a kind of layover for folks who are, for example, on day six of an extraordinarily beautiful loop hike, or for folks who intend to be up before dawn to climb to the top of a large and impressive rock called Half Dome.
It’s after dinner and all is cleaned up and put away. I glance over at my tent and, much to my surprise, you can imagine, an alarmingly large critter is moseying by. I believe I am witnessing the evening stroll of a 450-pound bear, come ‘round to see if anyone has any dinner they would like to share.
Where the hell is my camera?! My camera? Oh, it’s in my pack, which is in my tent. And who is moseying between my tent and me? A 450-pound bear. No photos this time.
A black bear is not necessarily black. It can come in brown, cinnamon, blue-gray, blond or white. Black too. More colors than any other mammal in North America. This particular behemoth is blond.
Later I stop to chat with a ranger, letting her know that this colossus visited us in the campground. “Oh, that’s Blondie,” the ranger calmly tells me. “She wanders by most evenings around dinner time. She’s as harmless as they get.”
I’m thinking, four hundred fifty pounds of harmless muscle. Tell me another.
She does. “Our bear are smart. Gladys, one of our bear, takes her cub with her when she forages. One day, I saw her reaching for a suspended food bag. When she was convinced she couldn’t reach it, she put her cub up on her shoulders so he could reach up and snatch the bag. How about that! We love our bear.” She speaks with heart-warming affection.
“Yeah, you met Blondie. She’s a beauty, isn’t she.”