Not all encounters with park bears are as cordial as the one depicted in the archival photo accompanying this article. In fact, the one I'm going to tell you about was a bit on the stressful side. I swear this story is true. A ranger related it to me, and rangers never lie.

Fran already had some rangering experience, you understand, but it wasn’t the kind that prepared a guy for dealing with challenges like this one. Fresh from a stint in our nation’s capital, where he greatly enjoyed the nightly Bicentennial fireworks at the Tidal Basin, this self-confessed “city boy” was now an interpretive ranger in Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

There aren’t any black bears roaming free around the Tidal Basin, but there are plenty of them in Great Smoky. This particular one was a big female with a cub in tow, and she was making a beeline for City Boy and the gaggle of tourists tagging along on this ranger walk.

“It’s a bear!” somebody shouted, “Everybody get behind the ranger!!” And so they did.

Picture it. There stood City Boy, there stood the frightened tourists, and here came the bear. Two bears, counting the cub.

City Boy held his ground. If he was about to die, he was determined to go out like a man.

He froze. He stopped breathing.

Mama Bear closed the distance between them in less time than it takes to tell it. Then she froze too.

But not quite.

Mama Bear decided to smell City Boy’s toes. Then she slowly worked her way up City Boy’s body, eventually reaching his nose.

City Boy and Mama Bear were now quite literally nose-to-nose, and City Boy, who was living in the moment as never before in his life, was naturally wondering how all of this was going to work out.

He didn’t have to wait long. Apparently satisfied that this guy in the flat-brim hat posed no threat, or perhaps repelled by the odor of City Boy’s copious sweat, Mama Bear suddenly turned and ran, disappearing into the distance with her cub right on her heels.

City Boy exhaled. The visitors, who had spoken not a word during the sniff-athon, resumed their chattering. How fortunate it was, they all agreed, that this brave ranger had known exactly what to do.

Postscript: Shortly after this little wildlife drama played out, ranger Fran Rametta transferred to what is now Congaree National Park. Bears are so rare in the Congaree vicinity that a ranger might spend a whole career there and never see one. Fran says that's just fine with him.