Saturday, I went with a couple of friends to hike Old Rag in Shenandoah National Park. It was a hot day, and we got a late start—we started the approximately 8 mile hike around noon. For about the first third of the hike, I was sure I was going to die. I was hot, thirsty and I’m horribly out of shape, so my heart was pumping extra hard. It was great, though, to be out of doors, and because we started so late, we saw very few people on the trail. Shenandoah is beautiful, and as we approached the top of the mountain, we could look out across the valley below and see for miles. The trees below looked like a great green plush carpet ready to soften a fall from the heights.

Just before we reached the summit, after scrambling over, around and through several large rock formations, we hit a small almost level wooded area. As I followed the path on a sharp turn to the right, I looked to my left and saw a black bear cub walking in the opposite direction. It was probably twenty feet from us, and a little less than twice my size. As I stared in awe (it was beautiful!), it slowly turned its head toward us and fixed us with a placid look, almost of indifference. I know my first instinct should have been to run like hell, but all that I could do was watch in awe and stammer to my friends, “hey, look—a bear!” I was swiftly reminded that a baby bear may well be near a momma bear and that we should leave the area. We finished our climb to the summit rather quickly, but I was never able to convince myself to feel afraid.

Coolest. Day. Ever.

NP: Black Box Recorder, The Art of Driving