Transparent Christian Magazine

At some point in life, a person must face the ultimate question: when confronted by a 1,000 pound grizzly bear, what will I do? While numerous park rangers wrestle with this probing question on a daily basis, I was granted the privilege of confronting the issue when a muscular grizzly approached my hiking trail. Fortunately, some words from my father helped guide me through the harrowing circumstances.

Located in Montana near the Canadian border, Glacier National Park boasts various attractions such as scenic hikes, placid lakes, and bears. Lots of bears. While attacks in the park are rare—only 10 people have died from bear attacks in the last 100 years—these numbers don’t mean much when the creature is close enough to see berry juice stained on his teeth.

The family vacation to Glacier featured a lot of time driving in the car (Ohio to Montana is not a short trip), so once we arrived we savored the fresh air, bright sun, and abundant wildlife. We’d already spotted a few bears and each new sighting was thrilling.

“Dad, hand me the binoculars,” I asked while we floated in a boat in the middle of Lake McDonald. The tourist laden vessel teemed with a breed of people known as “outdoorsy,” the kind who prefer weighing themselves down with massive backpacks and hiking oxygen deficient mountains rather than relaxing on the beach.

“Why, what do you see?” Dad responded. The bear was way up on the mountain and I wasn’t going to let him see it first. He gave me the large rimmed binoculars and I lifted them to my face.

The bear suddenly appeared right in front of my eyes, lumbering through the bushes. From this distance, the big furry creature looked peaceful as it played with blades of grass and sang Baloo’s “Bare Necessities.” (I couldn’t actually hear the animal, but isn’t that what bears do in their free time?)

We then docked and shuffled off the boat before beginning our hike to the glacier at the top of the mountain. We didn’t see any more bears until we started back down, but that’s when I learned that they don’t spend much time singing.

Dad and I rounded a bend in the trail when he grabbed my shoulder.
“What?” I asked. We stood for a moment in silence. I heard some rustling noises.
“Keep walking forward and keep your eyes on the path,” Dad said. “Don’t look left.”

Of course, as soon as I began walking all I could do was look left. I tried to stop, but when the possibility of taking one large step forward and hugging a massive grizzly exists, it’s hard not to look. The creature was right there. I could grab some of its fur as a souvenir. It didn’t seem to notice me, and I walked on tiptoes with large eyes stretching down towards my chin. Once past the bear, Dad—being concerned for our safety—stopped walking and turned around to take some pictures. We hiked to the bottom of the trail scared but with a great story and a roll of film worthy of the Discovery Channel.

While the pictures appeared at every family gathering that year, more importantly I learned the answer to the ultimate question. What should we do when life confronts us with a bear? According to my father, keep walking forward and keep your eyes on the path. The path hadn’t changed, only the surroundings became more dangerous, and my father supported me the entire way. A father’s voice provides crucial guidance during the most dangerous and unlikely of circumstances, the ones that end up being the most interesting and life-changing. Hopefully next time he won’t stop and take pictures.

Stephen Calhoun
http://stephenswired.wordpress.com/
You can read another article by Stephen here.