Monday Funday: Storytime

Time for some fun. How about a story?

In the summer of 2017, Cassie and I invited some friends to our annual week in Lake Tahoe. Nearly a century ago, Cassie’s great-grandfather received a plot of land south of Tahoe on Fallen Leaf Lake. Two decades later, his sons – one of whom was Cassie’s grandfather – built a cabin on it. Ever since, Cassie’s family has been spending their summers up there. Cassie has been up there every summer of her life, and I’ve been up every summer since we started dating in 2010. It’s a special, even sacred, place.

So we invited two couples that we grew close to during my time in seminary that summer. One couple, Sallie and Stephen, was able to come up earlier in the week than the other couple, Stephanie and Mark.

Sallie, Stephen, and I drove up to Tahoe from Los Angeles (Cassie was already up there spending time with her mom). On the drive up, I lamented to them that this was my seventh time up to the cabin, and I had still never seen a bear. Cassie had wowed me with stories of “close encounters of the bear kind” at the cabin. The summers of 2010-2016 were bearless. I was hoping the summer of 2017 was bearful.

Turns out, 2017 was the summer of the bear. This is one of many bear episodes from that summer.

I should have been able to guess that this was the summer. In hindsight, I now know that conditions were perfect. We went up in June, when the weather was warming up but snow banks were still ten-plus feet high on some of our higher elevation hikes. Late spring is when hibernation ends, and hungry bears need to replenish the calories they’ve used on their months-long nap.

On the second day of the trip, we hiked to Angora Lakes. This is a short but steep hike to a pair of alpine lakes surrounded by an amphitheater of rock, trees, snow, and waterfalls fueled by melting snow. The lakes were partially frozen. Later in the season, there is a small general store that sells lemonade and a few cabins for rent. But early in the season, it’s empty. We had it all to ourselves. It was breathtaking.

After lunch with this view, we headed back down the mountain to Fallen Leaf Lake. On the way down, we were sharing stories and catching up. Stephen was leading the pack, followed by Sallie, Cassie, and me. As Stephen was telling a story, he abruptly stopped.

“Bear…bear….BEAR!”

A black bear was on the trail ahead of us, no more than 10 yards away.

Because he’s in the lead, Stephen sees the bear and pulls out his pocket knife. Because I’m in the back, I don’t see the bear and I pull out my cell phone. This was my chance to finally see a bear! I start moving past Cassie because I can’t see it. Time for a photo! She holds out her arm and stops me in my tracks. In my mind, I’m thinking, “C’mon, it’s a black bear. They’re not that dangerous unless they are protecting their cub or sick or something…Lemme get the photo!”

That’s when we realize that the bear is not alone. She’s got a cub ambling behind her.

Oh…

Maybe this isn’t the time to charge toward the bear to get a photo…

We all remain still, not exactly sure what to do. We can’t move along down the trail, as the bears are crossing our path. We freeze.

So, while Stephen pulls out his knife and I pull out my cell phone, Cassie pulls out a calm but firm voice:

“I KNOW WHAT TO DO. EVERYONE LISTEN TO ME.”

(Remember how I should have known it was bear season? Cassie knew. Just days before, she’d been reading up on what to do if you encounter a black bear. Always prepared.)

“SPEAK IN A CALM, LOUD VOICE SO THE BEAR KNOWS WE ARE HERE. LET’S MOVE BACK UP THE TRAIL AND WAIT FOR IT TO PASS. NO, DREW, PUT AWAY YOUR PHONE AND MOVE.”

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been instructed to speak in a calm, loud voice without a prompt of what to say, but when someone tells you to speak in a calm, loud voice, you start saying things like, “I am speaking in a loud, calm voice!” because you can’t think of anything else to say.

So we start moving back up the trail with our eyes on these bears. Thankfully, they both seem completely unfazed. Our loud, calm speaking voices turn into loud, calm singing voices. Someone began singing “Do You Hear the People Sing?” from Les Miserables (I have no idea why…), and we all join in. I’m confident that we were the first to mention the French Revolution to these bears.

So we move up the trail, and can see the bears well from our higher vantage point. Now we were at a place where we could relax, wait, and take in the beauty of a bear and her cub. She was emaciated, empty from a winter of not eating and, more recently, from giving birth. She looked like a large Labrador Retriever. Her cub was adorable, as you can imagine. But, I still didn’t get a photo, because I was more afraid of Cassie’s calm but firm voice than of the bear…

We waited until the two were long gone, and we returned to the cabin, full of excitement and relief and adrenaline.

And that’s the story of the first time I saw a bear in the wild.

Later that year, in September, Cassie and I were able to spend another week at the cabin. We saw a bear, and this time – despite the same calm but firm voice – I snapped a quick photo.

So remember, kids: if you see a black bear in the wild, speak in a loud, calm voice and move away from it. And if you can’t think of what to say, start singing songs from your favorite musicals.