It was the closest I’d ever come to a bear.
A buddy and I had just finished a day of paddling on Maligne Lake in Jasper National Park, way back in the summer of 2008.
On the way out of town, we slowed to a crawl to go around a few cars parked haphazardly on the road.
I thought it might have been an accident scene — but it was more like an accident waiting to happen.
The cars were hurriedly abandoned because their occupants were all outside on the pavement, edging toward the shoulder, eager to grab pictures of two bear cubs foraging in the ditch.
In no mood to be around when momma bear would eventually show up, we rolled up the windows and high-tailed it out of there before you could say boo.
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