Stagger the line

I marvel at the ability of the dog skipping ahead in front of me as I lean forward into my stride, lungs burning. Raising dust as she scampers on, she disappears between the mighty trees looming over us; ancient totem poles whose distant tips erupt green chaos into the vast sky. There is something about leading a hike, as if discovering the walk for the first time, shrugging off the weight of modern life like an unnecessary jacket. The sweet-pudding scent of the Ponderosa Pine, its vanilla tones whipped delicately by the light breeze coming from the mountain, is delicious.
I stopped clapping an hour into the walk,ignoring advice that all would be well if I made as much noise as possible along the way.
As I pause, Ana runs loyally back to me, playfully wriggling around my boots as if being taken out for a walk. The world falls gently behind me, an undulating carpet of green, greys and browns, while the ancient voice of the Cascade Mountains beckons me forward. We have to get to camp before dark, to store everything safely from the wild animals to whom this territory really belongs.
Ahead the trees start to thin and the mountain-side begins to bald. Ana runs ahead and I follow.
Suddenly, a huge dark mass sways unsteadily before me, a couple of metres away. As my body threatens to run my mind desperately tries to remember the advice on the leaflet crumpled up in my back pack.
‘Is it run from cougars, and stand still for the bear, or the other way around’?
Her eyes are locked to mine, and in spite of the terror threatening to split my chest in two, I can’t move. We stand and watch each other. She crouches so close I can almost touch her, with one paw reaching out as if she isn't sure either.
‘Was it run from humans, or at them’?
I can smell her. And though the rest of her body doesn’t move, her nostrils tremble at my scent. We appraise each other silently, her brown eyes set in black fur tinted with cinnamon in the sunlight, mirror my own uncertainty. An exhilarating moment, broken only by the dog’s frightened bark, sends the bear lumbering away onto some rocks above us.
She watches amusedly as I slowly begin to clap. An applause for her bravery? For mine? It is little protection against her huge form that could knock me down with one blow. But she stays where she is, to be pointed at when my friends arrive, and admired for the beauty of nature that she is. I decide to stay a little closer to them from now on.