My wife and I, along with a family friend, hiked up to Bomber Mountain on Labor Day weekend. We camped the first night between the Fortress Lakes, about three miles from the Bomber Mountain summit, and went the rest of the way to the top of the ridge the second day.
The trail all the way to Florence Lake, which nestles at the base of Bomber Mountain, is very well marked. But from there up to the crest of the ridge, it’s not so easy to find. There are cairns all over the place, but they’re all based on various hikers’ routes to the top, and as far as I could tell, they don’t represent a single route. And there are times when you can’t see another cairn from the one you’re standing by, so you have to kind of pick a direction and hope you see another one before too long.
It was during one of these guessing situations that we ran across the pine marten. I was leading our merry band of travelers, and I popped up over a small rise in the field of boulders. About four feet in front of me, right at eye level as I was climbing the rocks, a cat-sized brown form appeared in a gap between the stones. With its white bib, I knew immediately it was a pine marten.
I was surprised to see it, as I have always thought martens were very skittish. It should have hidden when it heard us coming, but it did the opposite. It came nearly all the way out of the rocks, and it showed no signs of retreating. I thought for a minute I was going to have to put my bear spray to use. I really didn’t want to have to bear spray a marten. Who knows if it would even have survived a squirt of pepper spray.
Luckily, it finally retreated, and I didn’t have to resort to drastic measures. I was glad I didn’t have to defend myself, but even more happy to have seen a marten that close.
