My precious hiking companion, Ajax, is nursing a strained left hind paw. This has led to nostalgia and heightened senses for me on my most recent hikes without him, including last Friday’s epic hike on Tiger Mountain. I dubbed my WTA trip report “Courtilocks and the Three Bears.” Trip reports are factual representations of hikes to help other hikers decide on gear, appropriate trails, and any lessons learned. Here I share what it was like to encounter three bears without my trusted sidekick.
My Dogless Adventure Begins
Last week, Ajax strained his left hind leg. When he wouldn’t put any weight on it, we took him to get X-rays. They indicated general wear and tear, nothing that would require surgery. However, the sedative they had to use aggravated his digestive tract for several days. He didn’t want to eat. There was no way he could hike a mile, much less ten. Wanting to stay near home, I headed to Tiger Mountain to try a hike I’d only done once before.
This was the first time I’d hiked solo – no people, no dog – in many years. Maybe ever. As I drove to the trailhead, I kept imagining Ajax lying stretched out behind me — even turned once to check on him, before remembering he was home. When I put on my pack, I opened the back door, half expecting him to leap from the back seat. But I was alone. A steller’s jay cawed a welcome. Aloud, I said, “You’re still with me, Little Man.”
High Point Trail Encounter
I headed up from the High Point Trailhead just after 6 a.m. on August 16th. My hike up was pleasant enough, even uneventful. Until 10 minutes before I reached the summit of W. Tiger 1. Branches crackling left and right made my heart race. Deja vu! My senses had already been on high alert for 90 minutes, without Ajax around to assist me with his keen ears and nose.
My calls of “Hey bear, I mean no harm, bear” were as much to calm me as to alert whatever was out there. To my right/west about 25 yards away I saw several tall ferns and Devil’s clubs shaking as something big moved away from me. I didn’t linger to get eyes on it. My heart rate increased and my head said, Keep moving steadily.
To my left/east in a valley, more Devil’s clubs swayed as another big creature moved away from the trail. Cripes, am I between two bears? I saw fresh bear scat in the middle of the trail and knew these could be two of the three cubs I’d learned were in Tiger’s forest on June 21.
By this time, my heart was racing, and not from exertion. I had to get out of there, but which way was safer? My only saving grace was they seemed to be just as nervous around me as I was around them. They didn’t want to have anything to do with me. But what about Momma? The only way past seemed to be — loudly — walking briskly straight through.
Decision Time: A New Route Down
Once I came out of the woods ten minutes later at the Tiger 1 viewpoint, I felt like I’d escaped danger. Winds buffeted me, but at least visibility was greater than 30 yards. I doctored a blister, ate some nuts, added a layer of clothing, and pondered my best course of action. I felt I’d already used all of my good luck, so I headed west toward Tiger 2 and 3 instead of descending the way I’d come.
Maybe if I descended via the Section Line trail (to avoid any crowds coming up West Tiger 3), I could cut east toward the Tiger Mountain Trail (TMT) and bypass the bears. If I rejoined the TMT far enough below where I’d spotted them, I could return to my car without having to walk half a mile along the paved Frontage Road.
My plan was working beautifully. Once I reached a sign pointing to “TMT, West Tiger RR Grade, W. Tiger 2 Summit 1.2 miles,” I thought I was golden. But five minutes beyond the sign, something larger than a dog, with black fur, spooked and scurried away from me along the path. Holy smokes, I just had a visual on a quick bear cub. Could I have just spotted three bears in one day?
Three Bears Added Miles and Murat’s Bridge
Since this cub was ahead of and below me, I pivoted 180 degrees and went back up the way I came, wracking my brain to think of another way down. Maybe the unmaintained K3 trail would work. I found the appropriate sign, headed down, and found myself on a long, unfamiliar bridge signed “Murat’s Bridge.” How can I be lost when I know exactly where I am? Or thought I did? What now?
I continued across the ravine, hoping to solve the unfamiliar bridge mystery. Fortunately, a trail runner and his dog trotted by. He assured me the TMT would join with the High Point Trail at a junction just beyond the ravine. On the other side was a small mailbox, a photo with a Saint Bernard, and some flags.
Missing my dog, I wondered briefly if the bridge was some sort of pet memorial. What a cool idea. But the sign said (1980-2013 RIP) so Murat must have been a person. By digging into online resources later I discovered that the family who donated engineering costs for the bridge had a son, Murat Danishek, who endured a multi-decade battle with a congenital heart defect. His own Shorecrest High School senior project novella was titled “Escape from Khasden,” published posthumously.
Add Three Bears, Subtract Ajax, What Remains?
My 11-plus-mile journey and 4000 feet of elevation gain with three bear encounters felt epic in ways I never would have imagined when I left the car. In a way, I’m glad Ajax couldn’t come because I’m not sure what he would have done with three bears so close to the trail.
Yet each time I crossed running water, I thought about pausing so he could drink. The only times I stopped all morning were to repair my feet and stow my poles. He would have loved the shade and cooler weather compared to our summer solstice hike. And he always loves meeting other dogs (I saw three).
From the long journey with added miles and elevation, the adrenaline rush of the bear encounters, and very few breaks, it’s no wonder I felt elated, lucky, but also emotionally tired when I reached the car. My senses had been on overdrive, interpreting every snap, crackle, and pop as a potential threat. I don’t think I’ll return to the High Point Trail without a partner or my dog, just to be on the safe side.
Bear Takeaways from Three Bears Encounters
If you’re going to hike alone where you may encounter bears, call out to inform them where you are. Carry a whistle in case you need to bring attention to yourself. Bring bear spray only if you know full well how to use it. According to rangers, the inanimate sounds of bear bells pique bears’ curiosity, while loud human voices drive them away. Use trekking poles overhead to make you look bigger. And never, ever run or they’ll see you as prey. These three bears didn’t want to interact with me; they just wanted to eat in peace.
Ajax Takeaways
More than ever, I want my best canine buddy to return to full health so we can hike together. Our hike to McClellan Butte (see my blog post from May 31) proved to me that I can confidently explore new-to-me trails. This trip taught me that I am completely self-sufficient in the mountains, with or without partners. I’ve identified several 13-16 mile trips I’d like to do this fall that most of my current hiking partners are not interested in doing. When I return from Iceland, I trust myself to be able to do them alone. A huge win on my change journey.
ADDENDUM:
A reader brought this sign to my attention with this comment: “Black bears are very shy. In the Sierra, it is illegal to use bear spray on them. But they are very pesky; ordinary noise-making is just not enough anymore. One ranger at Charlotte Lake put up a handwritten sign saying that you should chase them yelling as if you were intending to kill them and eat them. They will run away in terror. Their advice is to keep chasing them as long as you can. I have sent you a photo of the sign.”
Thanks, Ellen!
Black bears are very shy. In the Sierra, it is illegal to use bear spray on them. But they are very pesky, ordinary noise making is just not enough anymore. One ranger at Charlotte Lake put up a handwritten sign saying that you should chase them yelling as if you were intending to kill them and eat them. They will run away in terror. Advice is to keep chasing them as long as you can. I will send you a photo of the sign.
Thanks, Ellen! This is great information to pass along. For anyone interested in what the Charlotte Lake ranger wrote, I’ll attach it to the bottom of the blog post.