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Bear Update: Breeding season pits need to protect young against need to secure mates

As a new black bear mother and cub sit in a tree, a young male stalks
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Finally it rains... the sweet smell of lush grass and clover fill the air. As the 20-kilogram mass of a light brown, 17-month old cub "nests" in a large hemlock the thick branch sways the dog-size body with each wave of warm rain. The bear doesn't bother to seek shelter against the trunk of the tree but basks in the spring shower relief from a record-breaking heat wave.

It would have been a perfect emergence into its second year, if it weren't for the large male bear with a bad scent at the base of the old conifer. The yearling's body is situated so that it can see the male, its pupils fix and dilate... ears jittery... flicking forward then relaxing... detecting every movement of the larger bear's head.

He is silent, but his intent is deadly. If the yearling were alone, the male would not be interested in this insignificant little bear, 15-metres off the ground. The attraction lies in the larger female bear on the opposite side of the tree trunk.

The brown-mother black bear is not sitting comfortably in the tree but rather is poised with forelegs on one branch and hind legs on a branch slightly higher. Her body taut and ready — muscles quivering. Saliva drips and drools from her lower jaw. A warning is vocalized — four coarse huffs ending with a series of jaw-popping chomps.

Unconcerned, the male rests his massive head over his paws. His 150-kg body slumps over a burned out stump. It seems he has not a care in the world. He has one purpose — to secure mates. By killing the yearling, he will force the mother back into breeding. Even though this mother will chase her yearling away next month to prepare for breeding, male bears get impatient and take action early, or whenever opportunity presents itself. Or, quite possibly, this male knows this female's poor parental protection skills. Brownie, this unfortunate mother, has lost all of her 10 cubs produced since 2007, except the one now in the tree. And this male, who is not the father, is one of the possible males that killed this yearling's siblings last year at this time. Brownie started out with three cubs in 2012 and lost two by June 1.

The male rises. Soft chuffs of concern erupt from the yearling. Four huffs thunder from the branches followed by a single swat of the mother's forepaw. Her head sways toward her yearling and she pops jaws three more times.

The male steps toward the tree, turns and rubs his full six-foot torso back to the tree.

Mom charges two metres down and the yearling climbs two metres higher.

The male, in an uncanny human pose, faces the trunk with 12-centimetre wide forepaws and looks into the tree's upper branches.

Brownie explodes in vocalization and drops two more metres down with all paws landing securely on a larger flatter branch. One more course, guttural huff explodes and she punches the branch with her forepaws. The yearling is now huddled into the dense crown of the hemlock.

For 30-seconds, the large sex-driven male and single mother stare at each other — opposing forces of biology at work — the urge to breed against the defense of offspring. It almost doesn't make sense.

Vibrations erupt from the mother's taut shoulders and ripple down her slender flank as she excretes loose fecal matter down the trunk of the tree. The male meets this with flaring nostrils. A low deep snort erupts as he reluctantly loosens his grip on the trunk. He stands, head swaying and scenting. He knows very well, to climb the tree means a fight and from experience, he knows he'll have to back down.

The fight is not with her. The goal is not to injure her. Get rid of the young bear and she will smell and act differently this season — within 10 days. Male bears know moms have the advantage in trees — that's why mothers are smaller than males to have the agility to climb high into the safety of trees.

Brownie holds her ground watching. The big black male sways his head towards the opening of the ski trail and detects a new scent, another male — competition. He peers back into the network of branches. Brownie, now sitting with a build-up of saliva around her mouth panting, stares back. The larger bodied bear relaxes and walks down-slope from the tree. He knows he will be back.

This mother, Brownie, was the fifth female to check off my list of 16 adult females this spring within the Whistler Blackcomb ski area's sub-population.

So far, Michelle (tagged) returned with two yearlings after being relocated from the Chateau Golf Course last fall; Olivia emerged with two yearlings; and Brownie with one yearling.

There are four cubs-of-the-2013 year so far: Old Alice with one tiny cub and middle-aged Elly with three healthy-sized cubs. This is Elly's third litter of cubs for a total of eight and the second litter of three cubs since 2007. She's a good mom that has never been seen (by me) in the village. She's the only mother left, that will adapt (so far) to the Whistler Bike Park.

So 11 more females to locate and because I'm not seeing them immediately it likely means they have cubs. There is one mother in the Whistler valley with three yearlings and another mother with three yearlings near Pinecrest as well.

Bears are feeding in the valley because lush grass, clover, and dandelions are available. Don't approach bears. Stay back at least 20-metres (60 ft) and keep dogs leashed. During sudden, close encounters, talk a bit and back away the way you came. Do not shout or run around bears.