Maybe, you need to have experienced a black bear in the wilds to fully appreciate this. But here’s a good one from Fred Ungaretta, a New Jersey fly fisherman (and other things) transplanted to the north suburbs.
I do love my animal stories.
To set this up, this is one story from several Ungaretta sent centered around the Big Flat Brook in Jersey. It was a farewell visit (in pouring rain of course) two days before they moved out here.
I’m driving back from just over the border in Pennsy with a pick up full of meats and a 35 lb suckling pig for a roast we planned for our friends the next day and just had to stop, wet a final line, and say goodbye to my favorite piece of heaven on earth. However, I knew I was risking an encounter with one of the local bruins with that savory stash in the backseat. Anyway, I climb down the very slippery, wet and muddy slope, get into midstream, made maybe ten casts when out of the corner of my eye, I see a 350 pound, very mature male bear crossing the stream 150 yards up from me. I immediately knew there was only one destination on his mind and it became a race to the truck. I don’t know, I may have levitated or something because somehow I got out of the river, up that messy incline, and to the truck just as his massive head popped up 15 yards up and across the road from me, looking right at me, and I swear, cursing me for beating him to his prize. I laughed out loud as I unlocked the truck and said goodbye to my new buddy and drove off feeling a mixture of intense melancholy and gratefulness for this and the many, many other experiences I had had in those woods during my many excursions to same over the years. Wow, what a send off.
Good animal stories are always welcome at outdoordb@sbcglobal.net.
