Like any animal under protection, they proliferated, and became nuisances, especially in the northern part of the state. A fiend of mine who has a large property in northern FL, has several running through his place all the time. He has special “Bear Proof” trash cans, and has to be careful about them trying to get in the house.
When I was younger, and backpacking, I’d see maybe one bear in two days, in the southern Sierra. As the Park and Forest services began removing nuisance bears from Yosemite, and dropping them in the wilderness to relocate, They began to come into Mammoth Lakes, especially at thre ski lots area condos and restaurants. “Cute’, at first, then like a gang. Breaking into dumpsters, and cars, and knocking over trash cans.
I had started backpacking and through hiking the central Sierra by then, only peripherally aware that this was going on. I crossed over Mammoth pass, and stopped for a the evening where the trail joins the trail fro Red’s Meadows, to Rainbow Falls. I was headed toward the Minarets, to do some free climbing. I set up a dry camp, tightly repacked everything except my sleeping bag, had eaten only cold reconstituted freeze dry and had disposed of everything, except the foil pack which my hound Beauregard had licked clean. I placed my pack which I had tightly bound with parachute cord, wrapped tightly, thinking about foiling raccoons or anything else that might try to get into the pack while I sleep. I told Bo, that he was on guard, and dropped off into an untroubled sleep, on a pile of pine needles under a big yellow pine.
I woke somewhat drowsily to Bo, huffing quietly next to my head. I opened my eyes, and could see him in the dark, standing erect, looking toward where my pack was. I heard something moving, and sat up.The second I sat up, still tightly bound by my sleeping bag, Bo shot forward barking loudly, and charge into a pack (!) of bears, I stuck on arm out and turned my light on the group, and saw Bo hanging from the neck of one sow bear, while three others were panicking, and milling. Each had a large cub with her, and one had my pack in her paws, tearing at the top with her teeth. Beauregard’s charge had broken up their thievery, and al of them disappeared into the brush, surrounding the clearing I was camped in. Bo chased them baying and barking for as long as I could hear him. I had gotten out of my bag, and stood there calling him to come back, but his barking faded of into the night.
I sat up waiting for him to come back, until dawn, only about two hours later. I rolled up my bag and started uphill toward Reds Meadows since that was the last direction I could hear them heading. The trail dumped me off in a campground full of RV’s, still quiet and nobody stirring. No sign of bears or dog, except turned over trash cans, ripped up trash bags, and cleaned out overturned dog food bowls at the bottom of RV steps. I traversed the entire campground despairing that I’d ever see my dog, when under a huge 5th wheel, I spotted him, already head up, watching me, tail thumping the ground slowly. My beast, half lab, half St Bernard, a big thick long legged houndish looking mutt, with a big head, whose shoulders came to my hip. I whispered sharply, “Bo!, C’mere!” He jumped up and came forward all hangdog, until I squated, and then he rushed me, for a big hug. I was so glad to see he hadn’t been hurt, and he was squirming and whining with excitement like he had accomplished his duty and deserved a “well done”.
We hitched a ride back to town from Reds. I bought him a can of Alpo, at the market in Mammoth, and took him to Hot Creek.
A PA friend of mine, achieved his dream of moving to Alaska. He worked for the Tanana Chiefs, and flew from one village to another practicing medicine. Lived near Tok. He and his eldest left for a bear hunt (black bear) and spent the day. Got Skunked, so they went home. To a pissod of wife. Seems about dawn, 3 black bears broke into the storm porch (what we call a sun room, in Texas) to raid the freezer chest. He came home to a virtual slaughter. Rather, an ACTUAL slaughter, as the wifey took a rifle to all three of them. “You’re cleaning em up!”
In Castle Crags, my new bride and I went camping. We found out they wanted 25 bucks to enter the State Park, so I said screw that. I was a starving student at the time, GI bill. So we went up the creek, and found a place to camp. That’s another bear story, but too astounding to tell when not in person, and I tell it only in the presence of my wife, because most people know my wife don’t bullshit, and it sounds like a war story. So ask me some time around the campfire, in elk camp or at the 101st ABN Reunion.
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