Why I’ll Always Choose the Bear

Picture this: you’re stuck in the woods. It’s you, Mother Nature, and the burning question: would you rather encounter a man or a bear?

Over the last few weeks, this debate has taken over TikTok, Instagram, and mainstream media. And the answer – if you’re a woman, at least – isn’t surprising. Many are choosing the bear. Why on earth would women choose a bear over a man? Well…

A bear has never…

Whispered through the canvas of a woman’s tent ‘Is this where the party is?’, because she made the mistake of having a five-minute chat earlier in the night to be polite.

A bear has never…

Followed a woman and her friend during a hike, peering through bushes, to the point they were so concerned they ran back to their car, before following them to the pub where they pulled in looking for help.

A bear has never…

Told a woman she ‘owes’ him a kiss because they’d hiked together for the day after meeting in a hut the night before.

A bear has never….

Parked right next to a woman in a deserted campsite, watching her every move until she feels the need to leave her friends a message with his number plate, in case anything happens.

A bear has never….

Waited for a woman’s husband to go diving so he can ask ‘Can I kiss you?’, with his hands already uninvited around her waist.

These examples are the experiences of myself and other women I know with men in the outdoors. But I can recall plenty of others too; the Aussie trail runner who was followed and threatened when camping alone, the French backpacker who had a terrifying ordeal with a man who wouldn’t leave her tent despite constant asking, the current news reports of a stalker on a popular Adelaide hiking trail.

And these are only incidents tied to the outdoors. Broaden that to include ‘everyday life’ and the memories, anecdotes, and moments from within my circle alone are far too prevalent and heartbreaking to do justice to in 700 words.

But it’s not all men!

@kazdenc

You’re right. It’s not all men. The majority of my moments in the outdoors with men have been beautiful. From the men I have the pleasure of calling friends and family, to the strangers whose kindness will always stay with me.

I remember the time, while halfway through a remote three-day solo hike in Switzerland, I came across a landslide. It was passable but terrifying. A man crossing the opposite way started communicating in French that he had my back, watching me carefully, before smiling and waving a cheery ‘Au revoir!’.

Another time, a group of tipsy guys at Deep Pass campsite in the Blue Mountains invited my friends and me to their fire-side party. We declined, and five minutes later, one came back, handing us cold beers and wishing us a good night. No expectations.

But until proven otherwise, the fear is always there. Because although it’s not all men, that one (or two or three) that every woman I know has encountered, is enough for us to be extra cautious. Maybe if we were one of the rare few to be attacked or made uncomfortable by bears, or in Australia snakes, we’d feel the same way about them too.

@paxsonwoelber

Despite on paper, having things to fear in nature, I love the outdoors. It’s the place I feel the safest and most at peace, especially compared to cities. In reality, encountering a random man, bear (or snake!) and having something terrible happen isn’t likely. That’s why fear will never stop me from getting outside, and I hope it doesn’t stop others either.

I deal with the potential danger of not all men, in the same way that I do the potential danger of snakes, falls, cold, or heat – I plan for the worst and hope for the best. I tell people where I am and when I’ll be back, I carry a PLB, I choose my campsites carefully when hiking solo. The list of precautions goes on.

But what I hope for is that one day – whether it’s in the bush or the city – it’ll only be bears (or snakes) that women need to worry about.

Read more: Why I’m Proud To Hike Like a Girl

Feature photo by @zmachacek