Unbearable ride

For some reason I thought I had blogged about our trail ride just before the Fourth of July, but I guess not.
Alan and I and my son's Great Dane, Bo, traveled to the top of Grand Mesa, and got off the pavement about a mile on what is known as Land's End Road. I took my big jumper, Bud, who is actually a very steady trail horse, and Alan had his mare, Rita.
We were barely a half mile from the horse trailer, in an area of open parks spotted with stands of pine, when a good-size mule deer -- a doe -- popped out of the trees about a hundred yards in front of us, and bounded across a park from our right to our left. While all of us, animals and humans, were watching the deer, Bud suddenly perked up his ears and flipped his head back to the right.
There, ambling down the side of the hill, was a pretty, cinnamon-colored black bear. Since the wind was blowing toward us, he didn't catch our scent and he kept coming, nonchalantly.
He went into the same grove of trees that the deer had jumped out of, and when he did we moved a little bit closer. When he came out on the downside, he heard us and turned to look in our direction. He gazed at us for a moment, then turned and hurried back up the hill.
Neither of the horses got spooked. In fact, they seemed eager to follow him. So did the Great Dane, but he stayed beside me when I told him to.
The bear was probably 75 yards away when he came out of the trees and spotted us. Alan and I disputed how large he was, but he was definitely taller on all fours than the Great Dane. And, since Bo is over 6 feet tall when he stands on his hind legs, that bear was no little guy.
I've only seen a half-dozen or so bears in the wild in all of my time in the back country, but it's always special when you do, especially if neither you nor the bear feel threatened.
Since this encounter came the day after I put my old dog Pepper down, it's was easy for me to imagine some spiritual connection between my dog and the bear.