The Cub

My exploration of a remote area accessible by railway easement began peacefully. Surrounded by tranquil turtle ponds, I spent the morning documenting the abundant wildlife, including wood ducks, blue herons, pileated wood peckers and turtles. The return journey, however, presented an unforeseen challenge. The land narrowed, with a pond blocking my initial path and dense, overgrown brush obstructing my way back to the railway tracks. Exhausted and eager to avoid retracing my steps, I opted to forge a path through the thicket. Half heavy brush, half hawthorn bush, you know the kind with 1 inch thorns like a rose bush but worse, not something id do again. Anyway, midway, a commotion erupted from my left. I came face-to-face with a fleetingly captivating sight: a tiny black bear cub scampering up a tree, no more than a few feet away. Although quite cute, that cub and I had only one thought "OMG where is mom!" I knew my ability, to effectively deploy bear spray ,in these tight quarters was minimal. Limited visibility due to the dense brush necessitated a heightened reliance on audible cues. The absence of the mother's thunderous approach through the brush provided a measure of comfort. However, the unexpected rumble of a train added a new layer of urgency. Those tracks were my only way out of here, and the only relief from the claustrophobia that was quickly turning my resolve to panic. Trapped by thorns, cornered by a train, and what I imagined was a mother bear. I had to make a choice, you see, on the other side of those tracks, there's 15 feet of land, and then the river. Do I race the train through this brush and risk running headlong into Mama bear at the river, with a train on my heals? All I knew, is that I wanted open air and away from this tree with the cub. I used my 600mm lens and camera as a face shield as I crashed through the remaining gauntlet of prickly hawthorn bushes. My sole focus was reaching the open area beyond the tracks, where I could assess the situation and, if necessary, deploy bear spray more effectively. Emerging from the brush, I bolted across the railway tracks just as the train rumbled by 30 seconds later. With a surge of relief, no bear at the river. I waited for the train to pass, and now with 360 degrees of freedom, my composer returned to captured a few precious photographs of the shaking cub. I continued my trek, wary but grateful to have avoided encountering the cub's mother. This heart-pounding experience solidified the importance of responsible wildlife observation and respecting the boundaries of wild animals in their natural habitat. Always leave yourself with a way out.