I surprised a pack of bears once having a garbage picnic at the Helen Hunt Falls Park up in Colorado Springs once. There were at least 8 of them, trash was strewn everywhere, and one of them was even sitting on top of the picnic table. I dismounted and was digging out my camera, but when I thoughtlessly ripped open the velcro of my camera case, they bolted in all directions. One of them never saw what made the noise and was (it still makes my butt pucker when I remember this) running directly at me.
I was standing on the wrong side of my bike, wearing useless plastic shoes on ice-cold asphalt, with a top tube in one hand and a %$%#@& velcro camera case in the other. My dog-conditioning instincts took over and I stood tall & erect, looked the panicked bear in the eyes, (and braced for impact/devourment....)
...and the dang bear ran right past me as if I were a tall & erect lycra-clad tree in the forest.
Whenever I smell valerian root, it reminds of the smell of that bear as it thundered past, inches away.


And then there was the time a Great Sand Dunes Nat'l Monument when I got trampled in my tent by a herd of deer. Got stomped in three places, my tent was destroyed, and my motorcycle knocked over and spilling gasoline in the snow; but that is a motorcycle story.