Bears: They're Just Like Us!

As promised: up-close and personal with three of the wildest northern Wisconsin residents I've ever had the good fortune to meet and retreat from. Their mere presence sent waves of shock and awe down my spine, and made Addie's hair stand on end. My thrill-seeking bear dog discovered Mama Bear hanging out by one of the pottyhouses on the island at about 8:45 one evening, and 12 hours later, after a night barracaded inside the cabin listening to the heavy thud of bear footsteps outside, an early-morning growl at close range, and a crazed dog who looked to have been drooled on while tracking our unwelcome guests, we were outta there.
This photo was taken from the safety of a boat after our speedy exit. You can see the bear's brown snout as she peeks out from behind a tree. I wasn't able to get photos of the two cubs (who hustled up a tree every time we approached), but they raised the conflicting emotions of "awww... wook at how cute they are!" and "holy shit! There's a 400 lb. overprotective mother staring me down, and she looks very capable of mauling anyone who takes an undue interest in her young..." Mama bear is that black speck in the middle of the second photo.

Right before we left Northern Wisconsin, from the mainland, we caught sight of Mama bear stepping out onto the northernmost tip of the island, silouetted against the lake. It was a beautiful image, despite our frustration at having to leave prematurely, and certainly reminded me that being off the grid means sharing our space with its year-round residents. Or, in this case, not so much sharing as relinquishing our spot at the top of the food chain.