Bear Encounters by North American Bear Center

Bear Encounters by North American Bear Center

Author:North American Bear Center
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: collection, stories, story, tale, anecdote, true, fact, nonfiction, myths, debunk, North American Bear Center, Ely, MN, Minnesota, drama, humor, funny, nature, wildlife, outdoor, black bear, cabin, camp
Publisher: Adventure Publications
Published: 2013-01-31T00:00:00+00:00


The Fourth of July Bear

It was early morning on July 2, and I was preparing to make potato salad for our daughter’s family who were to arrive that evening. It was tradition that they visited us at the lake every year for the Fourth of July celebrations. The morning was cool, with a nice breeze off the water, so I had opened the kitchen window and sliding patio door to allow the stuffy air out of the cabin. I was home alone. My husband and son are early golfers and had headed out to the course. Bacon was sizzling in the pan on the stove, and I would periodically step out on the deck to refill the small bird feeder. This feeder was posted into the ground and stood directly off the deck, only 3½ feet off the ground. Busy chipmunks kept jumping into the feeder, stuffing their cheeks and making off with the goods. They were certainly getting more seeds than the birds were.

I was on the fourth trip out to replenish the seed, when I heard a very distinct roar coming from the edge of the woods. My head snapped up, but I could see no movement, and I could not hear any foliage rustling. Yet the roar had been close, perhaps 200 feet away. Odd, I thought, as I swiftly darted inside. I had never heard a bear vocalize, but was pretty certain that’s what it was. Except for the breeze and the birds, all was quiet. I could hear a motor out on the water, but it was on the other side of the lake. I closed the door in an attempt to save my life.

We knew there were bears in these north woods of Minnesota, but people rarely saw them. I had seen only one bear, perhaps five years prior, and he was crossing the road a quarter-mile from my house. My in-laws had seen a bear in our yard late one night in the fall. I continued cooking, occasionally looking out the window. Nothing. No movement, no sound. Half an hour later the chipmunks were beginning to crawl up my screens, trying to get my attention, begging for food. “Well,” I told myself, “whatever it was is gone. Unless it’s circling around the house to ambush me as soon as I step out.”

Cautiously I slid the door open and looked both ways before proceeding with the cup of seed six feet to the feeder. Sure enough, while pouring the seed in, I heard it again. Not a long roar, but a vocal roar. It came from the same area, just inside the edge of the woods. I slowly slid into the house and closed and locked the patio door. Shortly after, my husband and son arrived home from golf. The sound of the garage door going up was welcome music. I had decided not to say anything about the roar I had heard. The guys would make fun of me. I knew I’d never hear the end of it, and I’d be the butt of every joke all week.



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