The Night the Bear Came Calling

We didn’t plan it.

We just packed up, hit the road, and let the wild decide.

Red Feather Lakes gave us bird songs and soft coffee mornings.

I woke up before the campground stirred, before my boys even rolled over in their sleeping bags.

The birds were going absolutely feral — it was like nature’s own orchestra.

Not another soul in sight. Just me, the rising sun, and the reminder that peace still exists.

Granby greeted us with rain. The kind that soaks your windshield before you’ve even had time to curse it.

But instead of turning back, I pivoted. Found us a little cabin tucked beside a canal.

No plans. No cell service. Just us.

We played games all night. Laughed, snacked, let the boys be loud and wild. I poured a glass of wine and stepped out to breathe in the night air.

The rain had stopped. The earth was still.

And then the message came in:

“Hey — just a heads up. A huge black bear has been roaming the property. Please stay inside.”

Suddenly the night didn’t feel so quiet.

We crept to the windows like little kids on Christmas Eve — half thrilled, half terrified.

And then… there she was.

A real mama bear. Towering and thick and calm as hell.

Walking right past our window like she owned the place.

(Spoiler alert: she does.)

We were frozen and giddy.

Smiling so wide our cheeks hurt, whisper-screaming like schoolkids:

“She’s right there!”

“Oh my god… she’s right there.”

5–10 feet from us.

On our trip. Our cabin.

A real-life spirit guide who decided to show up uninvited, but fully welcome.

She didn’t roar.

She didn’t run.

She just moved — powerfully, quietly, and without asking for permission.

And in that moment, I felt it.

She was me.

She was every woman reclaiming her space.

Every mama out there protecting her cubs while still walking her wild path.

Every leader who doesn’t need to announce herself — she just is.

⸻

✨ The Real Lesson?

Sometimes the real magic happens when you surrender your plan, pivot with grace, and trust that the wilderness knows what it’s doing.

We don’t always need more structure.

We need more freedom to roam.

To listen.

To play games with our kids in the rain.

To sip wine in our power.

To meet the bear at the window and whisper to ourselves…

“I am her.”

🌲 Until the Next Roam…

I didn’t go searching for a sign.

I just said yes to the road, yes to the rain, yes to the wine, yes to the moment.

And the wilderness answered.

She walked right up to the window.

She reminded me who I am.

Not lost — just untamed. Not broken — just bold.

A mama bear in her natural element, raising wild boys and wild dreams and never asking permission to feel fully alive.

So here’s to the spontaneous trips.

To card games and campfires.

To soaking wet tents and last-minute cabins.

To every woman who chooses freedom over fear, joy over schedule, and wine by the canal even when the bear might be watching.

The wild always has something to say.

You just have to be still long enough to hear it.

And me?

I’m packing up and heading deeper into it —

because my boys are still snoring, the lake is calling, and I’ve got more stories to write from the trail.

See you at the next campfire,

Ash || American Wilderness Woman 

🪵🐾🔥

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