The Coyote and the Clumsy Bear

Mark Bradshaw
Jul 13, 2023
2 min read

Updated: Nov 3

When a berry-obsessed bear meets her match in Yellowstone’s Lamar Valley

By Mark Bradshaw

A Staredown in the Serengeti of North America

Why is this bear staring at me?If I had to guess, it’s a stunned look—one part disbelief, one part embarrassment. A few moments earlier, she’d been humiliated by a coyote. Yes, a coyote.

My wife Michelle and I were remote camping in the far northeastern corner of Yellowstone National Park, deep in the wildlife-rich Lamar Valley. They call this place the Serengeti of North America—and for good reason. Every direction holds life: bison lumbering through the mist, wolves trotting the ridgelines, otters slipping through the creeks, and bison ... everywhere. It’s the kind of place that makes you put down your phone, pick up your camera, and just watch.

The Bear with No Shame

We first met our cinnamon-colored black bear the day before, just outside our campsite. She was waist-deep in a berry patch, feasting like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. We call it a “berry coma.” At one point, she ambled out onto the road, paused in front of us, and—well—relieved herself. Right there on the road. No shame. Then she waddled back to the bushes for another round. Those berries must work as nature’s laxative.

A Most Unlikely Showdown

The next morning, there she was again—same patch, same berries, same single-minded focus. I stopped to snap a few photos while a coyote played in a nearby field. Neither seemed aware of the other, and for a moment, it felt like we were sitting front row for an unscripted wildlife drama.

When they finally noticed each other, we braced for the obvious outcome. Surely the bear would rear up, growl, and send that scruffy coyote sprinting for cover.

But no.

The coyote charged, yipping like a lunatic—and the bear panicked, scrambled up a tree, and clung there when a stunned look on its face. I have the photo to prove it.

The Look of Utter Embarrassment

After a few moments of smug satisfaction, the coyote trotted off into the sagebrush, victorious. The bear, now alone and humbled, slid down from her perch and plopped onto a fallen log. She sat there, catching her breath—and then locked eyes with me.

If I could read her mind, I’m pretty sure she was saying, Please don’t tell anyone what just happened.

Sorry, bear. Your secret’s out.

Mark Bradshaw is a writer, photographer, and former television journalist based in Oklahoma. He and his wife Michelle spend every year exploring Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks, documenting the wildlife and wild moments that make the West unforgettable.