Strange Encounter

By Kale O’Leary

The following article is the strangest encounter with a wild animal that I have ever had in my life. People often ask me if I have ever had any “close calls” with bears when talking with them as Game Warden. I have always told people the same lines, “they are more scared of you, then you are of them” and that I have never encountered or covered an unprovoked bear attack in my career. It just doesn’t happen in Maine, despite a healthy bear population. Bears so infrequently encounter humans, at least where I work, that sightings alone are uncommon. I learned a few things in this encounter and some knowledge that I previously knew about black bears helped me in walking away with only a story and not a scar or two. Here is the tale, which occurred during September of 2024 as I walked a large piece of property looking for some reported illegal activity in the town Ashland.

Thuds in the Woods

As I walked along the old grown-in trail, I looked around, admiring the tall stands of spruce and fir. It appeared as though this property had not been cut in several decades. The light rain “pitter-pattered” softly on the shell hood of my raincoat. I hate walking with a hood on in the woods. I took my hood off and a noise immediately drew my attention as I wheeled around to my left. It was clearly the thuds of a running animal as its paws hit on the dry understory soil. At first, I couldn’t tell if the sound was getting louder or quieter. It had to be running away I thought, animals don’t run towards people. I began scanning the dark softwood undergrowth and within a split second caught a glimpse of a black object running directly at me. It was a bear. Not a big bear, but a bear nonetheless and I don’t care who you are…that evokes some unique feelings. I took a couple steps backwards as my brain began processing what was occurring. The bear within seconds burst through the poplar and red dogwood whips that were growing densely along the edges of the old trail. I got a full look at the bear from head to toe at what I would judge as 6 to 8 steps. I instinctively clapped my hands three or four times while simultaneously stating “go bear, get, go!” in an authoritative voice. The bear, who upon coming face to face with me, paused momentarily before jolting off in the same direction that he came charging in from. He ran 20 or 30 yards before scaling up a large white pine that ironically had old cedar rungs nailed into it where someone had erected a treestand many years ago. I dug my phone out of my rain jacket, still amazed at a “cool” interaction with one of Maine’s big game animals that is so rarely seen, let alone close enough to look directly into his eyes. I snapped a photo of the bear as he hung onto the bark of the pine with his large ears and eyes staring in my direction. I put my phone back in my coat pocket, laughed to myself about the unique interaction that just occurred, and began walking back toward my truck another mile or two away through the woods.

New Noise

I had taken maybe 10 or 15 steps, when a new noise caught my attention. I stopped and listened. It was a faint scratching noise. I looked back towards the pine tree and was shocked to see the young bear scaling his way back down towards the ground. I kept watching as he got back to the ground and almost instantly took off on a dead run…in my direction! I think it took a second or two to now process the predicament I was in. I was not dealing with a spooked bear who was frightened by my presence in his woods and attempting to flee to safety. It appeared he either wanted a meal or a fight, because bears don’t shake hands. Looking back it is funny to think about the very distinct thoughts that next fired through my brain. 1.) Just like the “Grizzly Man”, the last photo on my phone when they find me is going to be the bear that attacked me. 2.) yearling bears of this size have recently been kicked out by their mothers and our on their own for the first time. He likely doesn’t know what is predator or prey and that puts me in a very bad spot. 3.) Lastly, but certainly not least. I know that unlike a Grizzly, you don’t play dead with a black bear and have to fight back. My adrenaline skyrocketed on this second encounter, unlike the first, because coming to grips with potentially wrestling with this bear was not ideal. The bear charged out on the trail again. This time even closer then the first time. I will never forget his warm breath creating a mist in the damp September air and looking him straight in the eyes as we sized each other up. I began walking backwards slowly, standing as tall as I could with my arms high in the air as I yelled “WHOA BEAR! GET! GET OUT OF HERE!” this time in an unintended high pitch. This bear never “popped” his jaws or displayed any of the tell-tale signs of a bear that was warning me to go the other way. He began walking slowly, step for step as I back peddled, never breaking his gaze from my torso. He slung his head low and was breathing very heavily as I not only could see the steam coming from his nostrils, but could see his sides expanding as he took each breath. You may be wondering why I didn’t unholster my sidearm and potentially dispatch the bear in self-defense at this time? Well, that would be because in my infinite wisdom, I was not in uniform, which can be heavy and cumbersome when walking long distances in thick woods. I had no firearms or weapons of any kind other than a pocket knife.

The Charge

I reached down at one point and as I stepped across a large hardwood stick that appeared to be a sufficient tool in case the bear did charge. All the while the bear continued walking me down, step for step, step for step. I picked up the stick and it immediately broke in half as it was dry rotted and wet. “Hand to hand combat it is” I remember thinking. I knew I was bigger than this bear, as it maybe weighed 100-120 pounds, but it is no laughing matter to think of how I was going to try and wrestle with this thing.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but was maybe only 5 minutes and 100 feet of back peddling slowly, the bear stopped walking with me. He had fetched up in thick pocket of alders and I began gaining some distance as I began walking faster and faster until finally, and I am not ashamed to admit this, I turned and began sprinting full speed towards my truck. I ran for several hundred yards before stopping to catch my breath and to see if my pursuer was pursuing. I never saw the bear again during the remainder of my walk out of the woods.

People have asked me, after I share this story, if I am fearful now of walking in the woods or will always carry a pistol with me. Call it Darwinism perhaps, but this encounter has not changed my view on feeling completely safe and comfortable when walking in the woods. This was a rare, chance encounter with a young bear who was learning the ropes and had no idea what I was. A similar encounter will likely never happen again in my life and the chances of being attacked by black bear in Maine are smaller than being struck by lightning.

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