With that funny swinging walk they all have

" All that remains is to stagger through the clearcut, down the deactivated logging road, and into the creek by the car, where I try to scrub away some of the dirt and salt and sweat and try to puzzle out where the bear is that left the huge, still-steaming piles around the tent in my absence.

Down the road a kilometer or two, is the answer. A big one, too, jet-black and as tall as my shoulder. Maybe out looking for toads in the twilight. Doesn't hurry, even when I honk, just gives me a slow, Clint Eastwood-style appraisal and steps off into the woods, with that funny swinging walk they all have."