WOODS FICTION
FEBRUARY 2019
GRIZZLY
MICHAEL FERRY
GRIZZLY
MICHAEL FERRY
“It’s a grizzly. It must be a grizzly. Please don’t be a grizzly.” Thoughts fired in quick succession through James’s mind. Two hours earlier he started for a run just outside the boundary of Rocky Mountain National Park. James sat behind a desk most days answering email and phone calls, and he had to work a few extra hours that week. He finally had a chance to spend time outside and get some exercise. He moved to Colorado two years earlier, and loved living near the mountains. The trail he chose cut through the woods, then carried him up and down several rocky hillsides. He was impressed by the landscape, but the trail was much longer than he had planned. Picturesque viewpoints of mountain valleys to the west, and incredible peaks in the far distance to the east kept his legs churning longer than usual. Imposing storm clouds had dominated earlier that day, so the crowds of hikers that he normally would have encountered along the path were absent on that particular late-summer afternoon. He had only seen two other people on the trail so far.
James entered a portion of the trail that followed the course of a narrow creek through dense bushes - “Eight miles” his cell phone app announced in an electronic voice. As he entered a gradual curve of the trail a loud rustling shook the chest high bushes just to his right. A surge of adrenaline propelled him forward. The rustling continued and his mind quickly cycled through the possibilities of what might be on the other side of the bush. “Please don’t be a grizzly!” He realized that he might actually be propelling himself directly toward the animal. He stopped suddenly and slid several feet over the loose rocks that covered the trail. The rustling ceased and James had to decide: Stay silent and wait to see what might emerge from the undergrowth, or make a run for it…
James’s instincts told him to run, but he did not know if he should run forward, or scramble backward. The breaking branches and commotion of leaves had not told him exactly where the animal was or which direction it was headed, only that there was something large looming near him. Instead, he was quiet and remained motionless. James did not breathe; he felt certain that making any sound would further endanger his life. There were several seconds of silence, then the bushes just beyond his arm’s reach erupted and a large, brown mass emerged. In a few quick bounds the animal darted across the path and continued through the undergrowth, crossing to the other side of the stream. James recognized that it was only a deer, but he was still frozen in place. The creature was gone before James started to breathe again, and took his first step forward.
After “the ambush” the trail turned to ascend a hillside. The adrenaline from the encounter with the deer made the next two miles seem easy. He laughed at himself and how frightened he had been. The gradual ascent became a steep climb to a ridge that James hoped to be the highest point of the trail before it descended back to the parking area where he had begun. His pace slowed as he made his way up the ridge and soon he stopped running altogether. The adrenaline was gone and the unanticipated distance of the trail had caught up with him. Still, he felt proud to make it several miles further than he would normally run; he expected that his phone would signal “ten miles” shortly. A walk through the woods didn’t sound bad.
James reached the ridge and was happy to find an open, grassy meadow gradually sloping downward for what he felt certain to be the last few miles of the circuit. Clouds still remained overhead, but a bright sunset was visible in the distance. He began to think of how hungry he was and how great it would feel to sit in his air-conditioned car when he returned to the lot at the trailhead. He reached the edge of the meadow and laughed again at how frightened he had been when the deer jumped out of the bushes. Movement across the meadow caught his eye. One of the distant tree stumps shifted, then grew larger as it pulled itself out of the ground. The stump raised its head, and he recognized the figure of a bear moving toward him. It moved slowly for a few yards then started to advance more rapidly. To James’s credit, he identified quickly and accurately that it was not a Grizzly Bear. Although the figure had brown fur, it was in fact, a Black Bear, somewhat smaller than the average Grizzly. “The Black Bear is generally not aggressive, and will normally take great care to avoid humans completely.” James could not specifically remember when he had read that statement. He was frustrated that he did not have the guidebook with him for reference, but based on the speed at which the bear was approaching him he felt certain that recalling the particular citation would not have helped. James turned to run, but only made it a few frantic yards before the bear reached him.
James entered a portion of the trail that followed the course of a narrow creek through dense bushes - “Eight miles” his cell phone app announced in an electronic voice. As he entered a gradual curve of the trail a loud rustling shook the chest high bushes just to his right. A surge of adrenaline propelled him forward. The rustling continued and his mind quickly cycled through the possibilities of what might be on the other side of the bush. “Please don’t be a grizzly!” He realized that he might actually be propelling himself directly toward the animal. He stopped suddenly and slid several feet over the loose rocks that covered the trail. The rustling ceased and James had to decide: Stay silent and wait to see what might emerge from the undergrowth, or make a run for it…
James’s instincts told him to run, but he did not know if he should run forward, or scramble backward. The breaking branches and commotion of leaves had not told him exactly where the animal was or which direction it was headed, only that there was something large looming near him. Instead, he was quiet and remained motionless. James did not breathe; he felt certain that making any sound would further endanger his life. There were several seconds of silence, then the bushes just beyond his arm’s reach erupted and a large, brown mass emerged. In a few quick bounds the animal darted across the path and continued through the undergrowth, crossing to the other side of the stream. James recognized that it was only a deer, but he was still frozen in place. The creature was gone before James started to breathe again, and took his first step forward.
After “the ambush” the trail turned to ascend a hillside. The adrenaline from the encounter with the deer made the next two miles seem easy. He laughed at himself and how frightened he had been. The gradual ascent became a steep climb to a ridge that James hoped to be the highest point of the trail before it descended back to the parking area where he had begun. His pace slowed as he made his way up the ridge and soon he stopped running altogether. The adrenaline was gone and the unanticipated distance of the trail had caught up with him. Still, he felt proud to make it several miles further than he would normally run; he expected that his phone would signal “ten miles” shortly. A walk through the woods didn’t sound bad.
James reached the ridge and was happy to find an open, grassy meadow gradually sloping downward for what he felt certain to be the last few miles of the circuit. Clouds still remained overhead, but a bright sunset was visible in the distance. He began to think of how hungry he was and how great it would feel to sit in his air-conditioned car when he returned to the lot at the trailhead. He reached the edge of the meadow and laughed again at how frightened he had been when the deer jumped out of the bushes. Movement across the meadow caught his eye. One of the distant tree stumps shifted, then grew larger as it pulled itself out of the ground. The stump raised its head, and he recognized the figure of a bear moving toward him. It moved slowly for a few yards then started to advance more rapidly. To James’s credit, he identified quickly and accurately that it was not a Grizzly Bear. Although the figure had brown fur, it was in fact, a Black Bear, somewhat smaller than the average Grizzly. “The Black Bear is generally not aggressive, and will normally take great care to avoid humans completely.” James could not specifically remember when he had read that statement. He was frustrated that he did not have the guidebook with him for reference, but based on the speed at which the bear was approaching him he felt certain that recalling the particular citation would not have helped. James turned to run, but only made it a few frantic yards before the bear reached him.
Michael Ferry's goal as a writer is to create a piece so moving, meaningful, and memorable that someone will want to read it more than once. He lives in Salt Lake City, UT with his wife and three young children. They love spending time in the mountains, reading books, and inventing new games to play.
