Need a New Daydream?

We were told to take a look at the wash out on the West Fraser road (thanks Tom). It’s about 17 kilometers from where we live, everything is closed, there is nothing else to do, it’s an excuse to get out of the basement.

We were frying burgers down by the Fraser River. There’s a beach on the west side that we go to, gets us out of the apartment. Since moving to Quesnel, we have lived in a basement, no deck, no outside unless you walk the dog, so the beach is our backyard.

It’s early May, the world is still crazy, but the burgers are sizzling. Our dog is lying next to us, drooling, waiting for food; the sun is shining, and the beer is cold, perfect.

We can hear another dog barking, maybe across the river. The Fraser is swollen, moving fast, the dog’s bark is annoying, constant. It must see us across the river, we can’t see it. The barking is getting closer now, is it in a boat? Closer, still barking, closer. Is that something in the river? Closer, THAT’S THE DOG! Farther; we can’t get to it; farther, the river is way too fast; farther, it’s still barking; farther, maybe it will make it out at the bend in the river; further, it’s just floating by itself; farther, we hope it can make it; further, it probably won’t make it, further, floating, farther, alone, further.

We walked down to Baker Creek – it’s one of our favourite spots – there’s a big beach, the dog loves to run and play in the water, and there’s driftwood everywhere – endless sticks for the dog to catch. The creek is high again, it’s not as bad as last month but it’s deep enough that the dog never ventures in too far. Lately we keep him on the leash until we get to the beach.

The walk down to the creek is a closed off dirt road, the beginning of a neighborhood that was never completed, bright red fire hydrants and rotting streetlamps can be found in the surrounding brush, beautiful but wild. The threat of bears exists but we have not had a run in yet. Some days we are prepared, bear spray in hand, taking the threat seriously; they could be anywhere down there. Today, we took it easy, we were not prepared. Even though we are warned every day that it is bear season, even when you warn yourself, you figure it won’t happen to you. You hope it stays a possibility, not a reality, besides, this route is barely off the main roads of our neighbourhood – we walk there regularly.

The section of the beach that we venture to is down a dirt road, flanked by two ponds and heavy bush that ends at the creek. Because the creek is high once again there is only one clear entrance and exit unless bushwhacking is on the agenda. We play with the dog and sit on a huge uprooted tree that had been left on the shore by the earlier flood. When we decide to head home, we can see something black just beyond the ‘s’ curve of the road about 150 metres ahead. Is that a dog? No, no, that’s too big for a dog. The grass beside the ponds is so tall that we are standing on our tip toes just to get a better look. The bear is doing the same as us, it stands up and cranes its neck trying to a get a better view down the trail. We do what we can, make some noise, try not to panic, head back to the beach, regroup. What do we do? We’re trapped. Wait it out. 

10 minutes later, what seems like an eternity, we head back up the trail to see if there’s another way around. There it is, in the same place, it stands again. We head back to the beach, no way out; the threat is real. Can we cross the creek? The water is too high.

We wait another 10 minutes, we are brave now, we have sticks, we start yelling before we get back to the trailhead, we will do as we’ve been taught: stand our ground, make eye contact, yell at it from a distance. We will scare it away. We see people up ahead, just passed the spot where the bear was lingering; they have no idea of the threat, just enjoying their day; it’s just another Saturday with friends. We run towards them, yelling, warning them of the bear, waving our sticks, they see us, they turn and continue walking; they don’t know what we’re saying.

We meet them at the top of the hill and keep our distance due to COVID precautions; we tell them about the bear and how close they were, how close the threat was.

Where we live, where we explore, the threat is always there, always in the back of your mind. Do you stay at home, lock the doors, only go out if you know it’s safe, or do you take the risk?