The summer I was pregnant with my second child, my husband, son and I went on a road trip. We took a breathtaking circle route from BC’s lower mainland to Alberta’s Icefields Parkway and back through Prince George and Barkerville.
I was seven months’ along, so stopping at rest areas was a relief in more ways than one.
Somewhere between Alberta and Prince George on the return portion of our trip, my husband, Gregg, faithfully stopped at a rest area. I followed the now familiar looking path to the outhouses. The entrances were always discretely placed facing away from the highway (unlike my sister-in-law’s temporary rural outhouse, which faced the road and had no door… but that’s a different kind of "bare" story…). Anyway, I waddled along the path, and just as I was about to turn the corner to enter the ladies’ closet, a black bear turned the corner from the entrance-side to meet me face to face!
Now that poor bear didn’t know me at all, but if you knew me, you’d know you’d never want to startle me. My arms flung up to the sky and I let out a scream so loud, it never fails to cause a sore throat. The bear reacted in exactly the same way, and swung around to high-tail it out of there into the woods.
I was fortunate to avoid any injury from my bear encounter, but now I absolutely had to complete the task at hand. I did so while Gregg kept watch, and I even managed to grab the camera from the car and snap a picture before continuing on to the next "rest" area.
My son, Adam, slept in his car seat through the whole thing.