By Lindsey McPherson/Special to e-KNOW

A word of caution to anyone venturing into the great outdoors this fall: It’s still bear season until late November.  There’s plenty of accurate info available on best practices for encountering bears on their turf, and most will tell you the best line of defense is to carry bear spray and know how/when to use it. However, having an early warning system to notify you of a bears presence can go a long way too.

In late August, my partner and I, along with our two dogs, were making our way home from a few spectacular days in the backcountry, and had a too-close-for-comfort grizzly bear encounter. However, we had a heads up on what loomed ahead on the trail. Physiologically superior in sight, hearing, and smell, our Labrador Retriever, Bentley, knew something was up when the hair stood along his spine and he let out a long, mighty, bark that bordered on a howl.

At this point it’s imperative I back up and explain the dog that is Bentley. Adopted at a year of age, Bentley has a big heart and a small brain. Suffering from Canine Compulsive Disorder – look it up, it does exist – he has a short attention span, hates cyclists or anything on two wheels, and is only motivated to listen when a tennis ball or food is at stake. So it came as a surprise to say the least when Bentley was the one to alert us to danger, not our loyal, old-souled Golden Retriever, Solomon.

Now back to the good part.

Only three kilometers to the trail head, as we progressed from an open meadow to a forested area, Bentley went crazy. Emitting a bark reserved for a Beagle,he proclaimed our whereabouts to anything within ear shot. Thinking this was typical Bentley shenanigans, Brett and I repeatedly chastised him to keep quiet. Entering into the dense forest, Brett suddenly stops behind another of Bentley’s braying calls.

“I think I see something,” he said.

“You’re going to trust Bentley’s instinct?” I question. “Keep moving!”

Bentley’s apprehension continued, becoming more agitated as we moved forth on the trail toward the parking lot. In front of me on the single track trail, Brett shouts “This can’t be good.”

When I see the heaping pile of steaming fresh, berry filled scat, I think, ‘No, this isn’t good.’

WIth bear spray cocked and both dogs leashed to the waist band of our packs, we continued on, as calmly as possible. Only now, we were the ones sounding like lunatics, shouting “Hey Bear” every few seconds to alert the nearby bruin to our presence.

After another 100 metres came the olfactory assault. My nostrils were met with the musty, dank, borderline rotting smell, that accompanies bears in the wild. Trying to remain calm, we marched on. Although it was extremely disconcerting knowing a bear was in our presence and not being able to actually see it, we were so close to the parking lot – we pressed on.

And then bad to worse. Cue the grunting snorts coming from the deep green abyss in the shrubbery off of the trail. As if in retaliation, Bentley let out the mightiest bark his 65 pound body could muster. Then without reaching a run (not advised in a bear encounter of this nature), we picked up the pace to that worthy of the speed-walking Olympics.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see my car. Parks Canada staff were at the parking lot when we arrived. After re-hashing our close encounter with them, we were informed that there were five – yes five – bears known to be utilizing the area. That very day, a warning was put in place.

So, the moral of the story is, carry bear spray. It’s your best line of defense, period. But having a four-legged pre-warning system doesn’t hurt either.

Lindsay McPherson has spent the better part of her life mastering the art of mediocrity, choosing to be quasi ok at many things rather than really good at just one or two. She’s an exceedingly mediocre writer, photographer, runner, speech writer, cook, beer drinker, hiker, friend, communicator, foodie, adventurer and lover of life. She lives in the Columbia Valley with her boyfriend (fiance sounds too pretentious) and her two amazing dogs, Solomon and Bentley.

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