I have nowhere near the kind of deep bush experience as some of you....I am in awe, frankly.
Growing up in Montreal,Quebec, I was lucky enough to be a few hours away from wilderness, and got over most irrational fears at a young age. When I had a family of my own, I more or less stopped going into the bush for twenty five years. I started up again when my kids were grown, and had to deal with re-learning a lot of things.
After a decade or so of being back at it, there is very little that I worry about or fear. I am always alone, as I like it that way, so falling and breaking an ankle or leg is something to consider. A couple of aprils ago, I slipped on the only patch of un-melted ice in the entire Canadian shield while portaging a 70 pound canoe on my head. Landed on my face, but learned a lesson. Kevlar is the way to go for an older gentleman. I picked up an old Quessy for $500. At 40 pounds, it works for me.
Not fear so much as concern....
1. Hunters. Hearing the crack of a moose rifle a few hundred yards away tends to focus the mind.
They use heavy artillery. Some of them like to have a drink or two. The older I get, the more I stay out of the bush during cannon season. Same for deer hunters. If I must go fishing/paddling during hunting season, I leave my antler hat at home. No use tempting fate.
2. Crossing large windy lakes. Three or four kilometers across (a couple miles)? Nope.
3. Moose. They are big and stupid, and, if they think you are a threat, can be a bit moody.
4. Habituated black bears. Not because they want to eat me, but, if they are unafraid, there can be a misunderstanding regarding food. I tend to stay away from camp-grounds, so this is somewhat hypothetical.
Real fear:
1. Non habituated black bears. If one comes across a bear that has rarely or never encountered a human, and does not run, it is possible that it has found you deliberately. Unlikely that he is hunting you, but it happens.
In the summer of 1980, at the age of 16, I and two buddies were stalked for twenty four hours by an adolescent bear. I had found an off map brook trout stream deep in the bush (finding these was, and still is, an obsession) and left a stringer with 5 or 6 trout in the water and went for a pee. Upon my return I found several bear tracks where I had been standing moments before. My friends were upstream and I finished up and we climbed up out of the ravine and made our way back to where we would be picked up the next morning, about a day's hike away, using overgrown lumberjack trails, moose trails, and logging roads. I could hear something big every so often in the surrounding forest. I suspected it was the same bear, but was fine with it. The size of the tracks led me to believe that the bear was young and probably defending his territory from a distance. We made camp before dark and I could hear something big circling the campsite all night. I told myself that it was a giant racoon and tried to sleep.
I exited the tent at sunrise and walked directly into what can only be described as a combination of horror and slapstick comedy. A young male, about 250 lbs, 10 feet away from me. Not nearly as cute and cuddly as one would hope, but strikingly beautiful. He had come for the trout, and was in no mood to negotiate. My friends and I got on one side of the tent while the bear was on the other. The bear slowly and silently made his way around the tent as we tried to "scare" it away by shouting and flailing. Apparently this animal did not know the rules and was undeterred. He kept coming and we kept going. At this point we were laughing hysterically, being idiotic teenage males, and the bear seemed almost insulted by this behavior and lunged into the tent opposite us.
Now, one should never run from a bear, right? I ran. We ran. Like a freaking gazelle, I ran. We assembled about a hundred yards away to watch the show. The beast destroyed my nylon three man tent, all of our knapsacks, our shoes, mess kits, and everything else it could find over the next ten minutes.
Then it disappeared into the bush like a ghost. A few minutes later it appeared behind us....Not good. That is when I felt the fear. We changed location. It disappeared and came back behind us....this went on for about a half hour until it finally left. I swear it winked at me and gave me the finger as it went.
I emerged with a pair of Levi's, a T shirt and my old Boy Scout canteen.
2. The Wendigo. The North is lousy with them. From what I hear, they steal your soul and turn you into a cannibal.
Messy business.
