I was explaining the location of my broken-down car in Angeles National Forest to the tow truck dispatcher when I suddenly found myself shouting.
“Bear!” I yelled.
A black bear ambled across the road and into Red Box Picnic Area. I hollered at the bear, as did another person in the lot.
The bear ignored us both, focused on where it would find its dinner that night: a bear-proof trash can.
In this edition of The Wild, our weekly outdoors newsletter, I will share the three bear encounters I had last week with black bears in Angeles National Forest. They were my first, second and third times to experience bruins in the San Gabriels. The third time, when a bear slapped my backpacking tent, was the most memorable moment. We’ll get to that later.
For anyone feeling rusty on the best course of action when you see a black bear in our local mountains, here’s a quick refresher on the tips I got previously from a conservation biologist.
- 🙅🏃Don’t run. You will look like prey.
- 🗣️ Let bears know you’re there. Say something loudly and calmly — don’t shriek! — like “Hey, bear!” in a deep voice.
- 💪 Make yourself big. Put your hands up and out — don’t shake them around — and try to get the bear’s attention without indicating that you’re scared or that you’re a threat to that bear.
- 👀👀👀 Keep your eye on the bear. But don’t look it in the eye. That can be perceived as threatening or like you’re trying to be dominant.
- 🤔 Observe its behavior and react accordingly. To learn more about this portion of my tips, check out No. 4 on my list.
- 🏔️ Carry bear spray. Bear spray is legal to carry in Angeles National Forest and generally on national forest land unless otherwise posted. It is prohibited in Yosemite National Park and other California national parks.
A black bear wanders along Canyon Road in March 2020 in Arcadia.
(Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times)
Anyone who hikes in Angeles National Forest is likely familiar with Red Box Picnic Area. It’s where adventurers park to hike up to Strawberry Peak or other nearby trails, like the Gabrielino Trail, which I wrote about last week. That’s how I found myself briefly stranded in the forest.
I had spent the day hiking past gorgeous wildflowers and splashing around in the Arroyo Seco. I got back to my car around 7:30 p.m., discovered my car’s battery was dead and, after realizing I had cellphone reception, called for help.
As I waited, I chatted with a good Samaritan, an outdoors woman reading a book in her car who decided she’d wait with me until a service technician arrived.
The bear arrived in the lot around 8:30 p.m. As the sun dipped lower into the horizon, we watched the hungry fluffball knock over the brown metal trash can that was specifically designed to keep its species out.
A bear with its head inside a bear-proof trash can.
(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)
After knocking the trash can down, the bear easily shoved its arms inside. Over the next several minutes, it repeatedly shook the can toward its (adorable) face. It was kind of like watching a human shake a potato chip bag toward their mouth to get the very last bits of delicious fried starch.
My new friend and I agreed, in all our travels throughout California, we hadn’t seen anything like this. I contacted the California Department of Fish and Wildlife to ask them: How normal is it for a bear to deftly navigate the mechanisms of a trash can built to resist it?
“It’s pretty uncommon that the bears actually break in,” agency spokesman Cort Klopping said. “When I was talking to our biologist about it yesterday and a couple people in the office, the reactions were all kind of like, ‘Wow.’ Either somebody didn’t secure that thing or that bear was an absolute hulk of a bear to get into a bear-proof or bear-resistant trash can. … I was joking with the biologist that I think I’ve actually had trouble opening those.
“You were witness to what I would refer to as a pretty rare sight,” Klopping added.
I’d known there was a bear in the area when I started my hike earlier that day. At Switzer Picnic Area, I read signs posted around the picnic tables warning visitors, “Active Bear Area: Do not feed bears or leave food unattended.” The flier featured an image of a bear standing on a picnic table, eating through some family’s meal.
A sign posted at the Switzer Picnic Area in Angeles National Forest.
(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)
Angeles National Forest spokesperson Keila Vizcarra said in an email that since last August, forest officials have received at least four reports from the public and staff about two bears active in the Switzer area.
Earlier this month, recreation staff spotted two bears at the Switzer Picnic Area eating food left unattended at a picnic table. They notified state wildlife officials.
“The animals may be the same bears seen last year, but it is difficult to confirm because tag numbers are not always visible or provided; in this case, one of the bears did not appear to be tagged,” Vizcarra said.
Forest staff use various hazing methods to discourage bears and other wildlife from eating human food, like making loud noises, securing or repairing trash cans and educating visitors about how to keep their food safe from animals, she said.
“A major contributing factor continues to be unsecured or unattended food, which attracts bears from long distances,” Vizcarra said.
The bear at Red Box finished its trash-inspired tasting menu and then walked past our cars. We both honked, but it was so unfazed, I wondered aloud whether it was deaf. (It wasn’t.)
It then headed south from the parking lot, and we didn’t see it again. I had already planned to write this week’s newsletter about that experience.
Then I went backpacking as a little treat to myself.
On Friday afternoon, my dog, Maggie May, and I headed out from near Pasadena down the Gabrielino Trail with a plan to camp overnight at the Gould Mesa Trail Camp. Despite loving the outdoors, I’d never been backpacking, but after my parents bought me a tent and sleep pad for my birthday in late May, I was itching to go. Gould Mesa is close to a city. It’s next to the Arroyo Seco with water to filter and reachable by a short two-mile mostly flat hike. It felt like the perfect first trip.
About a mile in, a mountain biker warned us of a “big bear, really big bear” at the campground before he sped off. A female hiker told me the bear was average, probably 5 feet on its haunches. Others hadn’t seen it.
I was talking to another mountain biker, who was telling me the bear had been active in the area for about a month, when a man came racing down the trail, shouting about how the bear was aggressive and dangerous. The man said he’d lunged at the bear, trying to protect his food, and proceeded to make several choices that would likely be found on a “What not to do when you encounter a bear” list. Maggie and I continued onward.
We arrived at the campground around 4:30 p.m. and didn’t see anything. I asked a mother and son set up at the site next to mine about the bear, and they pointed to a large coast live oak where a small, young bear laid over a thick branch, its small feet dangling down, right above the trail. One reason hikers hadn’t seen the bear was that they’d walked right under it.
A young bear lies on the branch of a large coast live oak above the Gabrielino Trail near Pasadena.
(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)
The bear had entered the campground from near the river, and without the mother-son duo realizing that the bear was approaching them, it grabbed their food right off their picnic table. The mom told me that she considered trying to pull the food back, but the bear made noises suggesting that it preferred she didn’t. It then left the campground, and presumably after eating the meal that her son told me had “a lot of protein” in it, the bear climbed into the tree and took a nap.
I’d camped in areas with bears before, including in Kings Canyon National Park where bears came into the campground every night. This bear wasn’t being aggressive. Instead, it seemed young and like it was testing out how easy it was to get food from these weird animals — we humans — in its backyard.
I decided to stay, especially after the bear left around 7:30 p.m., and none of us saw it again. The campground was full, and two of us, myself included, had bear spray.
Maggie and I got into the tent around 9 p.m. and soon fell asleep to the sweet serenade of frogs and toads singing their nightly songs.
Then, at 2:39 a.m., I woke up to the sound of something slapping the corner of my tent next to my head.
“What the f—?” I screamed.
I lay there, heart racing, listening.
I had put my tent’s rain fly on, so I couldn’t see outside, but I could hear the bear as it left. A large whoosh-whoosh sound headed away from my tent.
For the next 20 minutes, I listened intently to every single sound the forest made. Then, after checking that my bear spray and satellite communicator were close by, I fell back asleep. In the morning, I found a small cut in my rain fly that the bear’s paw had left. My dad later suggested that I date the hole with a marker.
A small cut left after a bear swiped the rain fly of Wild writer Jaclyn Cosgrove’s backpacking tent.
(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)
Maggie and I left around 10:30 a.m. to beat the day’s heat. Once at my car and with strong cellphone reception, I must admit that I opened ChatGPT. I don’t have a bear biologist on speed dial — yet! — and I wanted to talk to someone about why the bear hit my tent.
I explained that there wasn’t any food or toiletries in my tent. I had packed everything inside a bear canister that I then placed inside the bear vault in the campground. The chatbot and I soon agreed: This bear was likely making its rounds for a late-night snack, hoping someone had dropped a marshmallow or hot dog, when it encountered my tent. Maybe my tent was in its way. Maybe it looked weird.
Later, I called Klopping with the California Department of Fish and Wildlife again.
When we’d spoke earlier in the week about the trash-can bear, I’d asked him whether that bruin was at risk of euthanasia.
I told him that Goldie, a mama bear euthanized by the state earlier this year after swiping at and injuring two people, was top of mind for me, along with Victor, a beloved bear in Mammoth who was euthanized in 2024.
Goldie was the first California black bear to be euthanized in 2026, Times staff writer Clara Harter reported. “There were two bears euthanized in 2025, three bears in 2024 and five bears in 2023, according to Fish and Wildlife,” Harter wrote.
Klopping said the trash-can bear was just out for an easy meal and would be classified as a “no harm, no foul bear,” defined by the agency as “a bear that has strayed into an area where an incident could occur, has not engaged in nuisance activity or caused property damage, and may require assistance to return to nearby suitable habitat.”
He said it was unlikely, based on what I reported, that the bear would be moved since it was already in a forest far from any neighborhood. Instead, the only action would probably be that someone secure the bear-proof trash can so it actually functions properly. (Sorry, bear.)
“As much as I don’t want to say it, this bear is doing bear things,” Klopping said. “This is a natural thing for a bear to do. It’s searching out calories to sustain itself — they’re there, readily available. This bear knows how to get to them.”
When I called Klopping back to talk about the bear (or bears) at the campground, I was more worried. I reported the incident through the agency’s website because I know its biologists use the data for several reasons, including discerning when to implement bear-resistant measures in an area or relocate a bear. But again, I worried about what would happen to the bear or bears.
A black bear peeks its head around the vault toilets in the Red Box Picnic Area in Angeles National Forest.
(Jaclyn Cosgrove / Los Angeles Times)
Klopping had told me it was rare for the agency to euthanize a bear: California Department of Fish and Wildlife received 2,735 calls and reports regarding black bears in 2025, including some duplicates where multiple people were reporting the same incident, compared with the two bear euthanizations that same year.
During our second call, he told me that a biologist would review the report I made and might call me to get additional information, but again, this wasn’t “aggressive” behavior, he said.
When bear yearlings separate from their mothers at around 18 months old — which often happens in June — Klopping said the agency will get reports of these adolescent bears wandering closer to populated areas.
“You would use the term ‘testing boundaries’ — that may have been exactly what happened here,” he said. “Odds are pretty good you probably scared it just as much as it scared you.”
I hope the bears I encountered soon return to foraging for forest delicacies that don’t come in fast-food wrappers.
As interesting as last week was, I really hope the only bears I see the rest of the summer are at the pride festivals I attend. They’re absolutely welcome to go camping with me!
3 things to do
Cyclists ride down an open street at a previous CicLAvia event.
(CicLAvia Los Angeles)
1. Frolic through the streets in South L.A.
CicLAvia will host a free car-free open streets event from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Sunday through the Leimert and Exposition Park neighborhoods. The 3.6-mile pop-up park includes a short segment of Crenshaw Boulevard and mostly stretches along Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard from Crenshaw to Figueroa Street. Visitors are welcome to walk, skate, bike, play and explore along the route. For more details, visit ciclavia.org.
2. Celebrate Pride along the river in Long Beach
Friends of the L.A. River will co-host an LGBTQ Pride nature walk from 10 a.m. to noon Saturday through the Dominguez Gap Wetlands with the California Native Plant Society South Coast Chapter. Plant enthusiast Tory Jaimez will guide the walk, teaching participants about local ecology. Register at support.folar.org.
3. Listen to the birds in Huntington Beach
We Explore Earth, a local outdoors community group, will co-host with Save Orange Hills and Friends of Shipley Nature Center a peaceful bird walk from 8:30 a.m. to 11:30 a.m. Saturday at Shipley Nature Center in Huntington Beach. Guides will help participants learn about local bird species and ecosystems. Register at eventbrite.com.
The must-read
Perched atop a tall pine tree, resident bald eagles Jackie, left, and Shadow protect their latest offspring in their 5-foot-wide nest. The nest is viewable via a live feed from the nest cam.
(Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times)
Friends of Big Bear Valley, the nonprofit behind a popular eagle nest camera, is rushing to raise $10 million by July 31 to buy land that could become a lakeside gated community, leading to the destruction of crucial habitat that celebrity birds Jackie and Shadow use for foraging, along with other wildlife who call it home. Times staff writer Lila Seidman wrote that if the nonprofit can raise the money, then the San Bernardino Mountains Land Trust would conserve the roughly 63 acres and might transfer it to the U.S. Forest Service (a common practice of land conservancies). That’s if they meet the July deadline. “Failure is not an option,” said Jenny Voisard, media and website manager for Friends of Big Bear Valley. “We’re not going to let them build on it.”
Happy adventuring,
P.S.
After Goldie the bear was euthanized, lawmakers listened to the public’s demand for a more transparent process of when the California Department of Fish and Wildlife plans to kill a bear that the agency has deemed a threat to public safety. That includes Senate Bill 1135 by state Sen. Catherine Blakespear (D-Encinitas) that would “create the Wildlife Coexistence Program, which would provide public education, offer technical assistance and maintain a statewide incident reporting system. It would help communities deploy nonlethal devices to deter predators, like barriers or noise and light machines,” former Times staff writer Katie King wrote. The bill is set to have a hearing before the state Assembly’s Committee on Water, Parks and Wildlife on Tuesday at the state Capitol. Although the deadline to submit a letter to the committee has passed, residents can still attend the hearing, where they’re allowed to give their name, organization (if with one) and their position on the bill. You can still also contact your Assembly member or the committee.
For more insider tips on Southern California’s beaches, trails and parks, check out past editions of The Wild. And to view this newsletter in your browser, click here.