I know the little bear was just as surprised to see me as I was surprised to see him.
I know this because he was about ten feet in front of my truck and looking back at me about as bug-eyed as a bear can get.
For a couple of seconds we just stared at each other through the windshield and then, as if a bell had rung, I grabbed for my camera at the exact second the bear started to run.
I had just turned in to the Bighorn rest area in Sheep Creek Provincial Park. The two cups of coffee I had guzzled on the way out there had done exactly what coffee always does and I was approaching desperation as I sped around the corner and drove toward the two little shacks put there for the exact purpose for which I intended to use at least one of them.
Why the bear was there, I don’t know.
My window was already down and the camera on the passenger seat as I grabbed it and aimed out the window. The bear was just crossing from the gravel to the grass as he broke into a gallop and I let the motor drive rip. But the light was dim at 7 a.m. here in the forest and my shutter speed was too low. I got one iffy picture and he was gone into the trees.