ALONG THE WAY

Surviving a 'BATTLE' of the BEARS along the wav

MAMA ALWAYS SAID, “WATCH WHAT YOU wish for-you just might get it.” Mama was right. I'd wished for bears and I got more bears than I wanted.

Amanda Moors, then a wildlife biologist for the San Carlos Apache Tribe, escorted photographer Bernadette Heath and me into the reservation's beautiful pine-covered high country to listen to elk bugle. We knew we would see elk, but I wanted to see a bear and Bernadette badly wanted a bear photo.

After donning complete camouflage outfits, Amanda, Bernadette and I resembled a military unit on a secret mission. Next we sprayed ourselves with something to keep from smelling human. We were on a serious quest for the perfect bear photo.

Right off, Bernadette spotted a bear and left the truck in hot pursuit. I headed the opposite way, enjoying the high country until I heard a snuffling sound and glanced to my right. Less than 20 feet from me, a black bear was calmly feasting on acorns and flipping over rocks. He was probably just average size, but looked enormous to me.

I wanted to shout, “Hey, I'm the writer; the photographer is that way.” But instead I quietly dropped to my knees and stretched out in my best imitation of a log. The bear paused long enough in his munching to tilt his nose in my direction and sniff. Feeling like bear bait, I frantically prayed I didn't smell like human, acorn or grub.

The bear decided I wasn't edible and returned to his munching. When he waddled into the woods, I retreated to the truck. I'd seen enough of bears.

We had driven only a few hundred yards farther before Amanda, our lookout, spotted a mother bear and a yearling in a tree.

Bernadette bolted from the truck ahead of us. Amanda grabbed her “weapon”-the bear equivalent of pepper spray-and we took off, too. As rear guards, our sworn duty was to protect the photographer.

Carefully we crept from tree to tree. Bernadette, already under the bear tree, snapped photos so fast her camera threatened to overheat. As if on cue, the bears cuffed and swatted playfully at each other.

Suddenly, the bears climbed down and Bernadette froze in position, doing her best to resemble a bush, while we of the courageousrear guard pretended to be tree stumps.

The scent-killer worked again, and after sniffing around Bernadette, the bears wandered off. Before we could herd her back to the truck, Bernadette spotted another bear asleep in a tree across a small clearing and was off again, moving like Gl Jane.

Amanda and I followed, but I was nervous. In fact, I was very nervous. Stumps looked like bears. Rocks looked like bears. I imagined bears behind bushes, bears in trees. My nerves were strung taut.

Amanda inched ahead toward an old pine tree and motioned me forward. I tried to be quiet, but each stick I stepped on cracked like a cannon, and pinecones exploded under my boots.

I moved slowly, head bent low. I had almost reached cover when a sharp pain hit the back of my neck. Yikes! I was under attack! I searched for warm blood and torn flesh, but there was none. I'd been clobbered by a falling acorn.

After Amanda made it across the clearing, it was my turn. I yanked down my hat and headed for the ravine in the center. Made it! I cautiously peered over the bank, checking for enemy bears. None in sight, so far. From John Wayne war movies I knew my next move was to wiggle on my belly through the grass, rifle extended, but I can't wiggle so well anymore and all I had to extend was my binoculars-not a very heroic effect.

Crawling proved too hard on the knees, so I opted for a hunchbacked crab-walk and sidled to the edge of the clearing before Amanda's hand signaled “Halt.” Barely breathing, I stood straight, imagining I was an oak tree.

Amanda gestured “All clear” and I advanced to collapse beside her and Bernadette. The bear, still in his tree, snoozed on a limb, legs dangling, unaware of the ridiculous maneuvers going on below him.

Finally awake, the fat bear stretched, then shimmied down the tree, providing a good photo op. He gave one last disdainful sniff in our direction and sauntered off.

The troops let out a collective sigh. We'd come, we'd photographed and we'd survived a battle of the bears, although there wasn't much battle to it. Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind being a bear. Except for putting up with some weird women in combat gear, life would be easy. AH