Gold, Decosmos and a Black Bear Bluff?

Andy and I set out last Saturday to get to an old disused gold mine.  In some ways we got more than we bargained for...  Briefly here is the route:

We connected with the hydro lines and headed along until we got to the bridge where you cut off for Rhodo lake.  At that point we headed left instead of right and up for a while before taking another left turn to the south east.  Eventually we got to place where we thought we might be able to cross to the Mt. Decosmos Road.  However, even though the trail was fairly short (100m) it was fairly gnarly, being boulder strewn creek bed, root infested and fairly steep.  We quipped the shyte fantasique that we could do it, but, really, it would have been a struggle. Quads look like they may have made it up.  Below is a detail image.  The yellow pin indicates where we got the bikes to.  From there we walked the hundred metres of gnarly trail, emerging onto a veritable "four lane highway" of a logging road.  We walked some more, but never found a way down to Deadhorse Creek (blue line) and the mine.  Using the Key trail and getting to the the big logging road is probably the next plan. 

 Below are some pictures of the gnarly link trail...

The most exciting bit of the whole trip for me was a bear encounter.  While, at the time, it left me both exhilarated and knee-shakingly bemused, I have had  a few days to think it through and research it.  Briefly then this is what happened. 

I was leading Andy on our bikes onto the hydro power line trail.  I have had two bear sightings on this trail before.  One recent sighting was a black bear that I came across eating berries on the south side of the trail.  He, or she, took partial cover and waited for me to pass, but I fumbled for my camera and by the time I got it switched on, the bear had given up and walked off.  I've always seen the bears prior to them reacting to me.  However, last Saturday was different.  Andy had dropped back 50 m or so to avoid my dust, and as I buzzed along I saw a challenging section of trail ahead and gunned it, relishing the thought of testing out my new forks and launching up another rise.  Doing about 30 - 40 kmh, as I crested the rise, something caught my peripheral vision on my right (north) under the power lines.  If you look at the G.E. image above, you will notice the lines are cleared of any trees for obvious reasons; consequently, blue-berry bushes and various other scrub is growing there - and I assume it's a prime location for bears to feast. 

 

Well on this day, the first thing I noticed was a large black bear, slightly above my eye level, and running flat out parallel to me about 30 feet away in the same direction.  Between concentrating on my riding and the trail ahead and disbelievingly looking back over at the bear, I noticed he was both keeping up with me and closing the gap to me.  The bear was large, very black with a brown muzzle.  As he drew even closer, I noticed that he was running so hard that his claws were ripping up dirt and vegetation and flinging it up behind him.  The impression of speed and power was quite mesmerizing, and all the time I assumed I was in no danger, that I had spooked it, and it was just going snap out of it's shock and veer away. 

 

It didn't.  Instead the bear gradually started to close the gap and got nearer and nearer until, unbelievably, it was three or four feet from me, running at 30-35 kmh exactly parallel and level with me.  I could have reached out and touched it.  Certainly in the quick glimpses I got between continuing to navigate my bike up over the incline, I could clearly see it's muzzle was light brown with scaring; and that it's coat was black.  Only at this point, ridiculously, did I sense that I could be in a bit of bother, and I snapped out of my trance-like wonder and disbelief and gunned the throttle.  The bike took off, the bear swerved towards me and miraculously passed behind the bike - flashing across my mirrors and behind me by mere inches, continuing across the trail and was swallowed up by the forest of cedars and the like. 

 

I grabbed the brakes and stopped hard, flicking down my stand and practically falling off the bike, just in time to see its large black rump enveloped by the forest.  Andy crested the rise and wondered what all the fuss was about.  I breathlessly recounted the story, and, frankly, I wouldnt' be surprised if he didn't believe a word of it!  He hadn't seen a thing.  While the whole experience was surreal, it happened.

 

I didn't sleep too well that night, or the night after: one thought kept coming back to me, that whenever I got the chance to look at the bear, it never actually made eye contact with me, and that it only veered off at the last moment.  The unpleasant thought that the bear was hunting me was quickly dismissed, as it could have easily jumped me by the time I reacted - it was certainly close enough.  It's ears were back as if it was frightened.  The thought that it was spooked is certainly possible, but why run steadily towards the source of the noise, and commotion of a 650 dirt bike thumping and barking it's way up a dirt grade with it's high beams on?  The bear had plenty of time to avoid me, and plenty of cover to disappear in.  So I began to research via the Internet, google, you tube and the like for an explanation.  It didn't take long before I came across several descriptions of ATVers and Dirt Bikers having experienced the same thing, although not locally. 

 

It is certainly a sobering thought that the bear wasn't apparently intimidated by the bike - something I have always assumed would be the case, indeed, has been the case on every other occasion I have come across a bear on the bike.  The bear wasn't running erratically like a scared deer, but purposely, strongly and, perhaps, aggressively.  As I said, chunks of vegetation and dirt were thrown backwards into the air by it's front and back paws as it closed on me. It's head was down, ears back and it never looked directly at me.  It only swerved at the last moment behind the bike, when, clearly, it could have charged or hit me easily.  

 

Initially I had thought the bear was spooked and reacting like I have seen deer do so many times before; that it was trying to pass in front of me. But as it kept pace with me and obliquely approached me, I began to realise we were going to collide. That's when I gunned the throttle and took off, and, fortuitously just when the bear passed behind the bike. 

 

The one explanation and pattern that I keep reading about is the bluff charge.  Often a sow with cubs will do this, and although I didn't see any cubs, that doesn't mean there weren't any...

 

My only regret is that in all of this, I didn't have the time or the mental clarity to switch my camera on.  I've been on this trail so many times, that I don't bother turning the master switch on to save battery power until I'm nearer my destination.  I'll think twice about that from now on!

 

Moreover, I will be carrying some bear bangers or flares from now on...