With the Sequoia Park Zoo tucked up against the backdrop of a redwood forest expanse, it’s not unusual for neighboring wildlife — from skunks and opossums to racoons — to make an appearance.
But Oct. 17 marked the first time an unexpected visitor of an Ursid kind found its way on to the grounds, seemingly drawn to the zoo’s fellow three black bears, wandering around the enclosure where the trio currently reside in separate areas and spending a little one-on-one time with Tule, Ishŭng and Nabu through their habitat fencing.
“The interactions were peaceful,” Zoo Director Jim Campbell-Spickler told the Journal, adding the young bruin just seemed to be curious. He said Nabu engaged in some nose-to-nose exchanges through the barrier — as did Tule — and seemed “very interested in the bear that was about the same age.”
Afterward the yearning played with some of the enrichment toys that were outside of the bears’ nighthouse area and even settled down for a bit of a nap before being ushered out into the woods through a service gate door — with a bit of coaxing.
“It was like he wanted to move in,” Campbell-Spickler says.
All the zoo’s bears are rescues deemed to be unsuitable for release by wildlife officials and, while not currently sharing the same space at the same time, have access to a naturalized habitat complete with redwood trees to climb and water features, including a pond, to play in.
Tule and Nabu were both found orphaned and the residual effects of health issues the two suffered as cubs left them unable to grow a full coat needed for survival in the wild. Ishŭng, meanwhile, arrived after being removed from a wildlife sanctuary when its permits were not renewed and her affinity for people meant she also was not a candidate for release.
All in all, the wild bear was in the zoo for less than an hour after being spotted, according to Campbell-Spickler, who says the most likely scenario is the young animal climbed a nearby redwood and dropped inside the fence. “That would not be surprising to me,” he says.
The excursion was discovered by the zoo’s Education Curator Christine Noel while she was on a morning inspection of the walkway — where the wild visitor was seen taking an elevated peek inside the bear enclosure — and instantly knew this was decidedly not one of theirs.
“Our three bears are very distinctive in appearance, and I recognized right away that it was not one of ours,” she says in a release from the zoo. “Overall, he was a very polite visitor. He stayed on the boardwalk path and didn’t try to climb over the railings.”
Emergency procedures were implemented as soon as the bear was spotted, and the zoo “deployed a rapid response to assess and resolve the situation.”
The Eureka Police Department was called to the scene, with Campbell-Spickler saying the officers helped out with clearing people off the walking trails behind the zoo in Sequoia Park, especially dog walkers, out of fear the bear might become spooked while California Fish and Wildlife officers helped usher it out through a gate — a process that took about 20 minutes.
In the release that went out that day, he noted: “This was an exemplary execution of our emergency systems which resulted in the best outcome for everyone involved — including the bear!”
Campbell-Spickler also noted that at no time did the bear enter any of the zoo enclosures and, with the security perimeters at the zoo designed to keep animals in, he says, “what’s likely is our bear friend was able to get into the zoo, but it was not as easy to get out.”
With the zoo’s location next to the expansive Sequoia Park, wild bears are spotted by visitors from the Redwood Sky Walk, as are deer and even an occasional river otter, he says. He noted Tule often climbs up over 100 feet on the trees in the exhibit and maybe the wild one just became curious.
Or, with fall here and bears going through what’s known as “hyperphagia,” a seasonal change that Sequoia Park Zoo Animal Curator Amanda Auston previously described to the Journal as a time “in which they become ravenous and bulk up in preparation for winter,” Campbell-Spickler says maybe hunger was a factor, but noted feedings at the zoo are strictly regulated and food is not left out.
He also speculated that maybe the young bear had become “habituated to humans” while living in the wildland-urban interface.
Regardless, the hope is the bear has moved on to live out in nature where it belongs.
‘He’s just a young bear trying to make his or her way,” Campbell-Spickler says.
Kimberly Wear (she/her) is the assistant editor at the Journal. Reach her at (707) 442-1400 or kim@northcoastjournal.com.
This article appears in No Kings II.