Directions For Use

Don’t aim directly at him at first. Point the spray about fifteen feet out and three off the ground, between you and the bear, so if he comes he has to come through the cloud.

Having the bear spray on my belt makes me feel badass, but the bravado melts away quickly as Todd gives me tips on how to use it. I know that the chances of pulling the trigger are slim, but the fact that I’m carrying it at all is sobering.

You’ve got seven seconds worth of spray, but don’t blow it all in one blast. Shoot two or three seconds, then pause.

That’s assuming, of course, that I can get the canister off my hip and flip free the safety while ol’e griz is sizing me up. Assuming I can move at all. I idly wonder how bears might react to the smell of freshly soiled shorts, but decide not to ask.

After that first blast, watch the bear, then the cloud. Be ready to adjust for wind or any other atmospheric conditions before spraying again.

So let me get this straight. Strategically position the first blast. Precisely time the duration of each dispersal. Monitor and assess the large, threatening carnivore’s reactions and the meteorological movements of the gaseous deployed deterrent and adjust application in equally measured portions according to these varying factors.

Fuck it. I’m just gonna spray Todd and run like hell.

Communications Breakdown

“Let’s meet back here at 9:00, just before dark,” Todd shouted over his shoulder as he dropped onto the path at the end of the backcountry bridge and disappeared down Wigwam. Mac and I followed, but turned upstream instead. The sun still sat high overhead so we had plenty of time before rendezvous.

But after a mile or so of fast, skinny riffles with scant holding water, we threw in the towel, found an old wildlife trail perched above the river, and bushwhacked our way back to the bridge. A hot day, by Canadian standards, we dropped the waders and penguined our way around the truck for a while; had a bite, a beer, and a quick nap, then tried to decide what to do next. There were still a few hours before Todd was expected.

“Let’s take Todd's truck and drive down that old service road to the turnout just above the canyon floor,” Mac suggested. “Shouldn’t take more than a half-hour to get there. We can fish that switchback for an hour or so and get back here by 9:00”

Seemed a good idea, but...

“What if Todd comes back early?” I wasn’t quite sure how he’d react to find that we’d left him stranded in the British Columbian outback.

Mac thought a minute, and then smiled. “I know. We can leave a note on the windshield.”

Now I’d heard, and gone along with, some pretty hairbrained ideas over the previous several days, but this took the cake. Really? Leave a note on the windshield?

“That’s the dumbest thing I've ever heard, Mac, and you know it.”

“It’s just gonna blow off when we turn on the wipers to clear the dust as we drive.”

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Note: Look for more upcoming content related to our ten days of wandering around British Columbia, Alberta, and Montana at Hatch Magazine. Special thanks to the fine folks of Fernie, BC for their terrific hospitality. We sure had a blast.