Jen and I were up at my cousin’s cabin in the mountains of Upstate PA, enjoying an overnight trip of lots of laziness, good and inexpensive ice cream, and a little canoeing. Of course I can’t go anywhere without scouting the place out on Google Earth beforehand, so I’d done my research, locating a nice, rocky, south-facing ridge close to the cabin, complete with a handy right-of-way for access.
[Note that I had a hard time photographing berries, the problem being that I kept eating most of the berries off the really photogenic bushes before I could get out the camera.]
I saw four such piles of scat on my way up the ridge, and even though I must have looked like an idiot clapping and hollering each time I went into a blind curve in the path, I kept at it, determined not to surprise a bear too close for comfort.
Here's more bear evidence - a rotting log split open for grubs:
Here’s a series of shots showing her retreat and then return to her basking spot.