Common Near Death Experience of a Native Idahoan

It is March 2006, my dad and I are clearing brush two hundred meters up the hill behind our house. The brush is becoming a problem because it is about six feet tall and is so thick that you can't see anything more than four feet aways from you; mind you bushes should never be more than four feet tall. We are also trying to open up more room so we can plant trees, due to our shortage from the bark beetle attacks and the Tusic Moths that came through and ate almost all of the needles off of our trees four years back. The moths seemed to prefer the Douglas Fir but the Grand Fir in our region does not grow as hardily and therefore almost all of our Grand Fir died off during the Tusic Moth Caterpillars' reign of terror. My dad works as a steamfitter at Washington State University but we rely on logging to help pay the bills and buy groceries. We need all of the trees that the bugs have killed so we must replant. I also enjoy our local ecosystem so it needs repairing after the insects have damaged it so badly.

It is our second day of cutting brush in this particular spot. We have already cleared about five hundred square feet of brush. Now we are working our way up toward a large Rocky Mountain Maple, which is on a small bump in the hill. Rocky Mountain maples can hardly be considered a tree. IN some places they can, but in our region they grow to be about fifteen feet tall in a cluster of somewhere between eight and maybe twenty shoots per each "tree" making them more of a tall shrub. The brush that we have already cut is all over so we decide to make a new slash pile next to the small bump. The fire flares up as my dad inserts the propane torch and resumes cutting once more. While Pa is running the chain-saw I start piling more brush on the fire.

Under closer observation I find that the bump has a hole in it about two feet in diameter. I have seen holes like this numerous times before. There are no tracks around it so I figure it must be an abandoned coyote den. Rather curious I go in for a closer look. Crouching down I stick my head inside. Almost immediately two yellow eyes the size of bouncy balls are glaring right back at me. I pull my head out of the hole with a jerk only to have a large black bear poke its head out at me and snort. I hopped right up the hill to my dad.

"Pa, we'd better stop cutting because there's a bear in that hole!"

Bounding down the hill we come across my mom, younger sister and both of my younger brothers heading up the hill to bring us lunch. My dad says "We won't be cutting anymore up there for a while..." Giving a brief explanation to my family members on why they shouldn't go up the hill because we accidentally woke up a black bear from its long winter's nap by running a chainsaw and building a bonfire next to its den.

Most people don't get the chance to look into the eyes of a bear... or stand nose to nose with a startled black bear for that matter. Take my word for it, its a life changing experience... It will be years before I stick my head in a hole again.