Never Love A Stranger 1

The zebra striped K5 Blazer came to a stop in what could only charitably be called a parking lot. The young woman behind the wheel looked around noting the two other vehicles, a Jeep and a Ford F150, before pulling out her phone and texting.

"At the trailhead, there was a road closure so running a bit late. Still planning to make the first site before dark."

She sent the message to 2 friends, then her parents appending an "I love you" for them.

With that responsibility out of the way, she climbed out of the truck. Layla had been in a bad mood for most of the last four days as her carefully laid plans for a week-long backpacking trip with three of her best friends had come apart. She'd finally made peace with it turning into a solo trip and then a rock slide had closed the road putting her two hours behind schedule.

Now as she looked around at the majesty of the Bitterroot Mountains it all just melted away. She didn't have it in her to be in a bad mood surrounded by nature's wonder. Taking a deep breath of clean mountain air, she headed to the back of the truck, dropped the tailgate and started checking her gear.

Satisfied everything was in order, she shouldered her pack, locked the truck and headed down the trail. Layla set a brisk pace for the first few hours, trying to make up for lost time. As she got deeper into the wilderness she slowed to her normal hiking pace. She could set up camp in the dark if she had to, and the whole point in being here was to savor the journey.

It was almost 2 o'clock when she stopped for lunch. Sitting on a downed log for a brief rest as she ate. Feeling re-energized she carefully packed away her garbage and took out her compass. She shot an azimuth to a mountain top just visible over the trees, satisfied with her location, she left the trail. Working her way through the increasingly dense forest was slow going for the next few miles, until she reached the scar from a recent fire. The trees were growing back, but the lack of undergrowth made walking much easier, and she was delighted to discover several black morels which she harvested. It was soon back to the dense forest and the light was fading when she reached her destination.

It was a small clearing in the forest, not even a quarter of an acre which the trees had for some reason or other forsaken. She dropped her pack, took a long drink of water and hurriedly set up her tent and rolled out her mat and sleeping bag. With her camp set up, she pulled out her Garmin InReach and sent a message to let her family know she'd made it to her planned site. 20 minutes later she was leaning against a tree, eating freeze dried bison chorizo hash. She'd eaten a few of her freeze drieds back in the real world, usually when she'd been racing to meet a deadline for school and had run out of food in her apartment, they were too expensive to eat on a whim. They tasted good, but it always left her wondering why they managed to taste so much better out here.

She was just finishing her meal when a deer came out of the trees across from her. It was a young, forked horn buck and she watched as he browsed on the quakies around the edge of the clearing. He ate for several minutes as Layla sat motionless watching him, then he turned and disappeared into the forest.

The sun was completely down, but it was a clear night, and she had enough moonlight to put the camp stove away and crawl into her tent. She stripped down and released her long blonde hair from the pony tail. She laid back on her sleeping bag, soaking in the sounds of the forest at night and fell into a blissful sleep.

Layla was up with the sun, another thing that always amazed her about being in the woods. At home she was an unreformed night owl, and would sleep until noon if she could get away with it, but out here she never needed an alarm. She dressed quickly, then made breakfast. The buck from the previous evening returned and they ate together. The deer managed to finish first and made his way back into the forest. Layla finished her own breakfast, then broke camp, and resumed her hike.

It was almost noon when she went over the last ridgeline and dropped down into the small valley that was her destination. She was rather proud of herself, she had GPS coordinates for the entire route, but she'd made the trip entirely with a compass and dead reckoning. Her Grandpa would be proud she was certain. He was always going on about kids these days not being able to find their way to the grocery store without some damn electronics.

She left the dense forest and surveyed the meadow that made up the center of the valley. A stream ran down the middle, forming a small lake a few hundred yards downstream from where she was standing. The grass was lush and green, dotted with various flowers in full bloom. Nature was taking full advantage of the brief growing season at this latitude.

Layla sent a quick message with her InReach confirming her arrival then set up camp. She contemplated another freeze dried for lunch then decided it was time for some fresh food. Grabbing her chest rig and collapsing fly rod she strolled down to the stream a hundred yards away.

It was only 7 or 8 feet across and a few feet deep, she looked for a likely spot for a trout to be lurking. She assembled the fly rod, and headed towards a pool formed by a bend in the stream. Watching the water, she made her way up the bank. Eyes fixed on the pool, she closed the last few feet to a flat area on the bank to cast from. She stepped on a rock, and felt it slide out from under her. She had the presence of mind to toss the fly rod away and just managed to get her arms up to protect her head when she hit the water. The shock of cold knocked the breath out of her, but she managed to recover and struggled to her feet in the swift moving current. Fighting the urge to run, she carefully made her way to the bank and out of the water. She was relieved to see her fly rod laying on the bank intact, it had been a graduation gift from her uncle who had taught her to tie flies and she'd have been crushed if it was broken. She took off the chest rig and checked the InReach, her GPS and radio. They were all waterproof, and didn't seem any worse for wear.

The shock fading, she suddenly realized how cold she was. She was shivering as she took off the chest rig and set it on the bank. Layla hesitated, rationally she knew there wasn't another human being for 20 miles in any direction but her sense of modesty held her back. The cold won out, and she stripped off her wet shirt. Her shoes, socks, and shorts followed. She wrung out her clothes, then laid them out to dry. A breeze sent another chill through her and her wet bra and panties came off as well.

The summer sun on her skin felt wonderful as she contemplated her next move. The responsible thing would be to gather her stuff and head back to camp, put on some fresh clothes and hang these out to dry she thought. Of course, she'd come down here to catch a fish for lunch, and she still didn't have a fish. She couldn't come back to camp empty handed, and it wasn't like there was anyone around anyway she thought mischievously.

The grass was soft under her feet as she retrieved her fly rod and confirmed it hadn't been damaged. With a great deal more caution she headed back to the bank, picked her spot and made her first cast. She was soon in her rhythm and landed a nice brook trout. 10 minutes later she caught a second, much smaller one that she released. She watched it swim away, then froze as she saw movement from the woods across the valley. A bear emerged from trees, angling away from her towards the lake. It was a massive grizzly, with almost blonde fur.

"You aren't supposed to be here." she thought as she watched it. The grizzlies were recovering their old range, but there weren't any reports of them this far west, and certainly not one this big with unusual coloring. All thoughts of what the bear was doing here vanished as it stopped and turned to look at her.

A different kind of chill ran through her as Layla realized it was staring directly at her. Did it smell the fish she wondered? A bear would chase another bear away from food, it would damn sure chase her off. What little wind there was, was blowing across the valley, and away from the bear. It shouldn't be carrying the scent to him she knew. The bear took a few steps towards her and she glanced back at her chest rig. She silently cursed herself for not keeping it closer. The bear seemed to hesitate, almost like it was trying to see what Layla was looking at. It rose up on its hind legs for a better view.

That was a good sign, she thought, bears did that when they were curious not aggressive. Her relief was fleeting as it dropped back onto all fours and continued to advance towards her. She took a careful step back towards the chest rig. I wonder what the headline will be she thought, "Woman discovers Grizzly in Bitterroots and kills it" or "Naked woman eaten by bear."

She took another step back, and again the bear froze, looking down at her chest rig. He knows what's in there she thought. Somehow or other he knows what's going on, and when did I decide it was a he?

She held her hands out, and slowly kneeled until she could set the fly rod on the ground. Displaying her empty hands to the bear, she began to talk not sure if her words were meant for the bear or herself, "Look, what's in that pack is exactly what you think is in that pack. I really, really, don't want to use it. Maybe I'd get you, and maybe you'd get me, let's not find out."

The bear turned his head slightly, as if considering what she was saying, and Layla continued.

"I mean, you're a bear, and well...I'm kind of bare right now. So, let's both be bare, catch some fish and enjoy a beautiful summer day. It's a big forest, plenty of room for both of us, right?"

The bear rocked back onto his haunches and let out a kind of purring sound, then giving her a nod he turned and headed back down towards the lake.

Layla watched for several minutes as the bear made his way to the lake, by then the adrenaline was wearing off and she was suddenly exhausted. She gathered her things and walked slowly back to her camp. Her body seemed to be on autopilot as she cleaned the fish and pulled out her cooking utensils, her mind still going over the encounter with the bear. Had she really made a lame dad joke while face to face with a grizzly bear, and who could she ever tell this story to?

She sauteed the fish and mushrooms over her camp stove and was halfway though her meal when it occurred to her that she had never bothered to get dressed. She'd always been modest by nature, but now she felt strangely comfortable in her nakedness. She speared the last mushroom with her fork and contemplated it for a moment. Had she fallen through the looking glass without even realizing it? She laughed at the absurdity of it all, and ate the mushroom.

An hour later she was stretched out on the soft grass, using her rolled up poncho as a pillow reading a battered copy of Bleak House. It was her mother's favorite book and she couldn't shake the feeling if she read it one more time she'd understand why. Layla read until the sun began to disappear over the mountain. She got up, stretched then proceeded to straighten up her campsite in the twilight. Satisfied everything was in order she headed for her tent. She sat by the opening, listening to the sounds of the oncoming night as the stars began to appear in the clear mountain air. Pulling out her InReach she sent a quick "I'm OK" message. She reached over and took her binoculars out of the pack and looked up at the night sky. One of these days she was going to bite the bullet and pack a telescope up her she thought as she gazed at the stars through the binoculars. All too soon it was getting chilly, and she tucked the binoculars away and slipped into her sleeping bag.

It was late in the morning when she woke up, the nights dreams still swirling around in her mind. She rarely recalled her dreams, and when she did it was usually only fragments. This time it was so vivid in her mind it almost seemed real. She retrieved her sketch pad and a pencil from her pack and began to write it all down.

The dream had started on the plains by the foot of a mountain. There was a village, of a dozen tipis. A young Native American man, perhaps in his late twenties was saying goodbye to his wife and little boy before heading off to the mountain. The man was soon deep into the woods, moving silently through the trees on the trail of a deer. He came to a clearing and saw a grizzly bear and her cub eating the carcass of an elk. The man hid behind a tree and watched.

Suddenly another bear burst into the clearing. It was a large male and it let out a roar. The mother bear pushed her cub back, and moved away from the elk, leaving it for the newcomer. Without warning the male charged heading straight for the cub, the mother grizzly leapt to her cub's defense crashing into the male. Soon the two were a snarling heap of fur, fangs, and claws. The battle raged on, what the mother bear lacked in size she made up for in sheer ferocity. The male landed several blows, his long claws tearing deep wounds into the desperate mother. Somehow, she managed to get behind the male, her strong jaws tearing at his neck as he tried to escape. The male finally collapsed under the assault, and the female staggered away from the corpse.

Turning her head she spotted her cub and limping to him. As she reached him her legs gave out and she crashed to the ground. The cub pressed his head to his mother's blood-soaked fur and let out a keening wail. He patted her nose with his paw and his mother remained motionless. The man watched in silence as the cub mourned his mother's death. Eventually, the cub's wails slowed, then stopped. The man rose silently and walked into the clearing. The grief-stricken cub turned to watch as the human approached, he stopped a few feet from the cub and kneeled until he was at eye level with him.

"I lost my family too little one, but I made a new one. You can join my family if you wish, until you are ready to live on your own," the man said.

The cub stared into his eyes for several minutes before taking an unsteady step forward. The man reached out, placing his hand on the cub's shoulder. The cub regarded it for a moment, then placed his paw on the man's shoulder for a moment. The man stood and began the long walk home. The cub hesitated, turning to look at his fallen mother one last time. He let out one last wail of anguish before following.

Layla finished writing, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She'd hoped that getting it down on paper would help her make sense of things, but it was just leaving her with more questions. It had just felt so real, it wasn't dreamlike at all and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. With that uncomfortable thought rattling around in her head, she turned the page on the pad, picked up her drawing pencils, stood, and headed down to the lake. She took a few steps then paused, looking back at her now dry clothes and chest rig sitting beside her pack. With a half shrug she left them all behind.

She found a comfortable spot a dozen or so yards from the water, sat down and began to draw. Seeing the raw beauty of nature in front of her made her curse her meager talent as she tried to capture it on the page. Satisfied, or at least as satisfied as she would ever be with her work, with a drawing of the lake she turned the page and debated starting another or heading back to camp. The debate was ended when the bear emerged from the woods. This time he was heading right towards her. Yesterday's fear had been replaced by something else. Somehow, she knew he wasn't going to harm her, if he wanted to eat her he could easily have killer her in her sleep she knew.

He crossed the stream and followed the shore of the lake, stopping about 20 yards from her. He stood on his hind legs looking around for a moment.

"I didn't bring it," she said, wondering why she hadn't brought her chest pack. Might as well wonder why you didn't wear any clothes while you are at it she thought to herself.

He dropped into a sitting position facing her, then gestured with a huge paw. She took out a pencil and he seemed to nod at her. I must really be going crazy she thought. I'm going to wake up in a hospital bed in Bozeman any second now, find out I wrecked my truck on the way to the trail and I've been in a coma this whole time.

With that she began to draw, as she did the bear froze. He held perfectly still as she worked, her pencils practically flying across the paper. She put the finishing touches on it and stared at her work. For the first time in her life she looked at one of her drawings and thought, "this is really good."

She was beaming with pride, and unthinkingly she turned the pad and held it up so the bear could see it. He took a few steps forward, and Layla didn't even flinch. He turned his head, looking at the drawing then up at the artist. He seemed to nod, let out a satisfied purring noise, turned and headed back the way he had come. She watched until he was out of sight in the trees, then returned to camp. She put the pad safely away before making something to eat. The rest of the morning was spent gathering huckleberries from around the edge of the valley. She read a bit after lunch, then got her fly rod out and set out to catch dinner.

Her efforts were unsuccessful, and after 2 hours she finally gave up and resigned herself to another freeze dried for dinner. At least she'd have fresh huckleberries to go with it. Despite it having been a rather sedentary day Layla was exhausted when she finished eating and was in her sleeping bag before the sun was completely down.

The dream returned. They were back at the village; the bear cub was outside a tipi playing with a little boy, oddly fair haired for a Native American, maybe 4 years old. The cub was larger, older, but clearly the same bear. The man from the previous dream emerged from the tipi and watched them play. The cub kept pausing his play, looking away from the village, towards the mountains, then resuming the game with the little boy. The man hesitated, as if he was coming to a decision, then approached the bear.

The cub stood up on his hind legs as the man walked to him.

"You will always be welcome in our tribe, but if it is your time to return to your world you must go, and we will understand," he said.

The young bear seemed to nod, then placed his hand on the man's shoulder. The man returned the gesture as his son watched. The bear dropped onto all fours and began his journey back into the forest. 40 paces from the camp he stopped and turned back, letting out the same wail of anguish that had bid farewell to his mother. The little boy tried to run after but his father stopped him by scooping him up in his arms.

"No, he will always be your brother, but he must make his journey alone."

The child let out a cry to match the bear's, then buried his face in his father's shoulder as the tears came. His father gently carried him back to the tipi.

The child emerged from the tipi, but he wasn't a child anymore. He was a young man now, 13 or 14 years old but his eyes were still red from crying. The other tipis were gone, his family's lay alone on the prairie. He had a bow and a small pack, and he began walking towards the forest. He stopped where the bear had, turning back to look at the tipi. He wiped the tears from his eyes and strode off into the forest. Moving silently through the woods, following game trails when he could, working slowly through the brush when he couldn't. He heard an odd noise, followed it, and found himself at the edge of a small clearing. A bear stood in the center of the clearing, obviously watching the young man.