A Bear Unseen

It was a typical hot and humid East Tennessee evening in July. At a half hour before dusk I decided to do the daily feeding of our bears. At the time we had three adult bears on site, two waiting to be released and one that was recently injured inside the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

The summer evening air was heavy but still. As I rounded the trailer to the maintenance building to get the bear's evening feast, I heard a crashing through the brush directly behind the building. Since the neighbors have a couple of large dogs which frequent the area, I made no unusual note of it other than to keep an eye out for my canid pals. One of the dogs, "Clyde", was a behemoth of a black lab that easily tipped the scale at over 100 pounds. I was sure "Clyde" was just making his rounds and I continued about my business.

I gathered the bear's rations for the night… apples, peaches, grapes and and blueberries as well as their daily portion of fresh acorns and hickory nuts. I even threw in a few "parts" of fresh trout I retrieved from a nearby trout farm. All of this going into two 5-gallon buckets, a caloric feast to say the least. I grabbed the heavy load, proceeded to lock up the maintenance building, and began my trek down the hill making sure I took the longer path to the pens so I could say hi to my buddy "Clyde."

I wasn't quick enough. "Clyde" was nowhere to be seen. I did notice however that it was extremely quiet in the fading a light. Absolute silence.

No cicadas.

No birds.

No frogs from the nearby pond.

Nothing.

Inside the bear pens, all seemed normal...at first. However, upon locating the bear's from behind the blind, I noticed two of the bears were pacing back and forth, almost as if they were agitated or scared. Keep in mind, these were adult bears as opposed to the typical cubs we normally cared for.

Something was up.

Not knowing what to make of it, I finished feeding them and locked up the pens for the night. Pausing before making my way back up the trail toward the distant maintenance building, I noticed that there was still dead silence emanating from the forest. The last of the day light quickly gave way to darkness. As I stood at the corner of the pens, I was straining my pupils to peer into the darkened valley below. It was as if I was willing my eyes to see the source of silence. Suddenly, I heard it.

A huff.

Like someone taking a deep breath and forcing the air all out at once. I knew immediately what it was. I had heard that sound hundreds of times before. Whenever any one of the penned bears got annoyed with another of its kind, it would let out this "huff" to say, "I'm aggravated… Stay the heck away!"

Yes, I knew exactly what that sound was.

It was a bear.

Problem was, our bears were penned up to my right. This sound came from my left.

And it was close.

Suddenly, the gears began to grind. I quickly realized: a.) the bear center was in a remote area where bears are extremely prevalent, b.) I was carrying dripping buckets of wonderfully delectable and aromatic food scraps, c.) we had an adult female bear possibly in heat just to my right, and most importantly, d.) I was carrying dripping buckets of wonderfully delectable and aromatic food scraps.

Yep...it was time to head back to the trailer.

Somehow the idea of standing in the woods in utter darkness while holding empty buckets dripping with berry juice and fish guts while an unseen bear tells me he's "aggravated"....well, it just doesn't sit too well in the craw if you know what I mean!

The walk back to the maintenance building was direct and brisk. And yes, there was clenching going on.

After dropping off the buckets and securing the building I felt a little bit better. The light from our nearby trailer illuminated the foreground so I decided to sit by our campfire pit in hopes of catching a glimpse of our visitor.

As I sat in the twilight, although I can't prove it, I am sure I heard a couple of cubs bawling in the distance. About ten minutes had passed. Suddenly my wife, Sandy, called from the trailer and asked me to come in quickly. Our nearest neighbor had just called to tell us that the biggest bear she had ever seen just tried to get up on her porch. She described the bear as a black "Gentle Ben."

Thankfully "Clyde" had scared the bear away as it tried to get on their porch. By her estimates, the bear was at least three times the size of "Clyde". That would put the bear in the 300 to 400 pound range, a true "monster" for this area.

Whether or not the visitor was an adult male in search of a mate or a large female that treed her cubs while searching for food, we may never know. Sitting back down for the night, I was quick to chalk it up as another day's work at the bear center.

Gosh...I love this job!