After another short but productive weekend of hunting, I find that almost all of the bear pictures I have include someone else’s children, so they won’t be posted.

I made it to the first tree after a long morning of nothing. I was the last one there, and I could see both the bear and the guys on the other side of the ravine, so I climbed back up a little and got on the correct side. That way, they wouldn’t have to hesitate to shoot if they needed to, not knowing where I was. And sure enough, that bear decided he’d had enough and decided to boogie. The shooter got off one shot, but missed him, and the dogs were turned loose again.

Don and I went one way to listen to them and the other guys went the other. As it happens sometimes, we were too far away to get there once he was treed again. So I had the most unusual experience of being able to amble to a tree. It was great; level ground along that same creek that turned my legs to numb stumps with my bear, but I mostly got to stay out of the water this time. I pokied along in the back, looking at stuff and taking pictures. It’s finally damp in the forest, and all of a sudden, the mushrooms are popping out like crazy. I swear, some that weren’t there when we went in had erupted when we came back out a couple of hours later.

You know me; when I see something interesting, I take a picture of it. So I have fifty pictures of tiny little fungi and other small forest details, and the guys laughed like hell at me. I warned them that I’m a huge geek, but I don’t think they really grasped that before. I’d be taking normal pictures of the bear and the people, and then all of a sudden, drop to my knees squinting at a half-inch tall white spot.

We thought these ones were oyster mushrooms, and if so; delicious! I even had one in my pocket for a while to take home to identify, but I figured it would get slimy in an hour of two, so I gave it back. No mushroom-tasting without expert advice, preferably an expert who’s eating them right alongside me!

Everyone left on Friday after we got the bear back into camp. I was all for staying, but the boys were uneasy about leaving me by myself. I thought it would be a great excuse to go off and take pictures without slowing anyone else up, but they ganged up on me with the one-two punch of, “We’ll follow you out” and “You know, the roads will be icey until tomorrow afternoon.” Since I do not do ice very well, and especially not without someone looking for my crushed body at the bottom of the cliff, I elected to pack up in a hurry and come on home. Besides, when I camp alone, I always have my dog with me, and although there were fourteen dogs there, not a one of them was mine. It’s just as well; I had a ton of stuff to do, but I always hate to leave that place.