CLOSE ENCOUNTER OF THE SECOND KIND

It was the second long ride of the season. I relished the break at my usual turn-around point, the little hamlet of Bragg Creek. I slowly savored the Triple Threat Power Bar and washed it down with the still-cold water from my bottle, while sitting at my usual picnic table. The town was just getting up as the Chinese lady wheeled out the decorated horse in front of her Ice Cream Shop.

For some reason, the ride back always seems faster, which is a good thing, because it's on the way back that my sore legs and butt do their most protesting. I'm getting into a good cadence, contemplating whether or not to get into Aero position.

A brown blur, hidden in the grass, scurries in my peripheral vision.

There are some leftover shards of nuts in my mouth and I play with them a bit before dry swallowing them. I think they're remnant nut bits; could be unfortunate bugs for all I know.

Now the brown blur emerges. I can't believe my eyes: it's a brown bear! It's clearly not an adult bear, but certainly not small by any means. And he's crossing the road from the opposite shoulder, dashing over to my side.

At that moment, I am all reflex. It doesn't seem like I'm processing any of my thoughts, but the fact that I can write it down now means that I did have them. As it approaches, it doesn't appear to be aiming at me, but it does appear a little agitated as if it were lost. I am not that used to the gearing system on my road bike but, somehow, I remember how to gear down. I am slow enough that I can clip out, but then I have to make a decision. Do I ditch the bike and try to outrun it? Or stay clipped in and try to outride it? Retrospectively, staying on the bike seemed to be a better option because I realize now that I probably couldn't have run very fast on hard-soled cycling shoes.

The bear cub crosses my path less than 5 feet away. He scurries pass and ducks underneath the barb wire fence beside the shoulder.

Relief doesn't set in yet, though I'm staring at the vanishing bear in awe. It's been pounded into me that, in bear country, when there is a cub brown bear present, momma bear isn't that far away. I'm now scanning both sides of the road erratically, all the while trying to build up my cadence again for a quick get away. After about 5 minutes of sprinting, I'm convinced that I will only have one bear encounter today.

I've always told people that I've never seen a wild bear before and I prefer it that way. Every year, more than a few hikers and bikers are killed by bears here, so the dangers are real. Now that I'm safely back on my patio, blogging, I can say that this was just an indescribably amazing experience, to see an uncaged bear that close. I had no bear spray, nothing to protect me should that bear have decided that I was its next meal. I think the feeling of that vulnerability is what is magnifying that experience for me.