Whitefish, MT - Man vs. Wild

OK, so probably the best way to tell this story is in a Dan Brown, third person omniscient tone reminiscent of the calibre of books found a the checkout counter at the grocery store....

.......................

Trystan had been the last one up the long a desolate gravel road that day the the alpine lakes. After several medicated doses of Power Bars and Hot Tamales, the valiant rider finally joined his team mates, who were in much better condition than he, but still looking pretty spent after their third 100 + km day in a row. Not only was Trystan physically exhausted, he was also in a terrible mood. He thought to himself: "The only way to shake this thing is to climb that peak and catch the magic hour lighting on Glacier National Park".

And so, as the boys (Grant, Simon, and Ben) started to prepare for an evening of relaxing, Trystan had one goal on his mind: get to the top. And so he put on his new light hikers, long pants and rain jacket to be ready for any conditions he may encounter in the next couple of hours. Being well aware of the cougar and bear risk, he armed himself with his can of bear spray and a soft tattered water bottle, which could be lethal in a pillow fight. Trystan consulted his tree planting team mates to establish the best line up the peak. He was warned that the bush would be thick, and the challenges would be great, but he knew he had to press to the top to let the mountain tame his bad mood.

As he climbed up the steep slope through scree, thorns, shrub, wildflowers, and pine trees all intermixed like a confusing Jambalaya his brother was renound for making, the views of the surrounding Montana wilderness just kept getting better. But just like the beads of sweat pouring off his brow, Trystan could not help the feeling that he was being watched by a very large cat. With every snap of a twig, his body would surge with adrenaline. This was man versus wild, mountain versus bad mood...and it was not yet decided who would come out victorious.

At 8:00 pm, just as agreed upon, Trystan gave off his Turner-wide "cooo-eee" near the top of the peak and Simon responded back from the valley far below as planned. Trystan could now see many of the proud peaks of Glacier National Park, and the scramble had thus far been a success. Realizing that he was getting low on water, he took some snow and packed it into his water bottle. He knew that his meandering accent would not be the ideal path back down, and that instead he should scramble across the decaying shale bluff, and follow a steep, avalanche chute back down that only had low bush to get through...

..................

At the same time, back at the camp down below, a lone fisherman was casting away into the tranquill lake lake. He had seen this party of mountain bikers struggle up the hill earlier that evening; they seemed young, naive, but full of promise and adventure. As he was looking across the lake and into one of the lush green avalanches chutes, he saw that familiar brown movement far off the distant. He knew it well, and it could only be one thing: Grizzly.

He quickly summoned the boys from away from the campfire and pointed out the great beast slowly wandering across the chute, and Simon took a fast picture. They nervously laughed in amazement, and thought, Trystan doesn't know that bear is there, imagine if he decided to pick that same line down....

....................

Meanwhile Trystan, ever cognisant of the falling sun eager to kiss the horizon, started to pick up his pace down the mountain. He had had some close calls with the rock face, but was now in a position to grab the small growing pines as he briskly headed down towards camp. He gave a small "cooo-eee" to let the boys know he was OK, and because of the sharp acoustics off the lake below, he could hear their barely audible voices off in the distant. He could have sworn they said something about him.

......................

Back at the camp, the boys had just told a group of moterbikers about their sighting moments ago. Grant pointed out to the group the chute where they had just seen the bear, but as they all looked up, they couldn't see the bear anymore, just a distant grey shape that could only be their mates jacket...in exactly the same spot they had just seen the bear. Grant then let out a yell, that would have sounded distincly similar to 'fire truck' in the crisp Montana air.

........................

As Trystan stopped to hold his weight against a pine tree, he heard a ruffle to his right across the chute, the hair on the back of his neck crept up and he was filled with a primordial instinctive feeling and then time just stopped.

...............

Meanwhile, back at the camp, as the boys were getting ready to prepare their well-earned tuna and pasta dinner, they looked into the campfire, and were full of excitement about having just spotted a full sized grizzly...close enough to see but far enough to be of any real concern, but little did they realize, that at that exact moment, trystan was starring right into the deep black eyes of a this same bear.

..............

And then there it was, Trystam frozen solid, he could not speak. The bear, equally startled was motionless too. All that separated these two creatures was some 20 metres of shrub. Trystan knew that grizzlies have been clocked at 60 kph, and that an encounter could be less than two seconds away. But as every aspect of Trystan's mind was brought to the immediate present, the bear acted first...and quickly turned the other way and charged through the bush at full speed.

The photographer in Trystan superseded the survivor, and he reached for his camera, but all he got was a futile video of some shrubs crashing and parting as the bear retreated away...

With blood rushing through his veins like a boxer entering the ring, all Trystan could think now was "get back to the camp, now".