It’s been hard to tell whether spring has really sprung or not up here. One minute the sun is shining and it’s 50 or 60º, the next snow is dumping and everything is frozen again. Three days ago it was over 70º up here, then two days later it was frigid and snowing again.
So what makes it official? The bears, of course! We were driving down the mountain the other day and came around a bend to see a mama bear and her new cub. Mama is a beautiful cinnamon bear, colored distinctly like a grizzly, but her big goofy ears and round back exposes her for what she really is: a black bear. Behind her in tow was the tiniest cub we’ve ever seen. Just a little turd of a bear, not bigger than a small cat. The couple were a fun and adorable sight. Of course, upon seeing the vehicle they broke into a sprint, mama bolting uphill and cub bolting back downhill into the draw. We crept by slowly just in case the cub decided to reverse its decision and bolt back to mama right in front of us…
Spring last year (2020) was heralded by moose, rather than bear. I was driving down the road to deliver packages and found myself coming up on a moose calf. Of course, the calf was the size of a dadgum horse! I trailed it slowly down the road as it galumepd down the road at a goofy gate with impossibly long legs for its body size. It looked over its shoulder at me every few moment, afraid of what I was going to do. I looked over my shoulder every few moments, afraid of what its mother was going to do if she thought I was after her calf x_x
It was definitely more unsettling than pleasant. I don’t fancy a mama moose punishing me and my car for chasing her new spring calf! But all was well- the calf eventually veered left and cut up the mountain side instead of running down the middle of the road. I kept my wits about me for another half mile before relaxing, finally content that I would not be suffering the wrath of mama moose’s revenge!
And no, alas, I don’t have photos from either encounter.