THEY LOVE BEARS… IN TAHOE
Published in the August 30, 2025 issue.
The bear problem isn’t just a Mammoth problem; it’s a California problem, said Ann Bryant, Tahoe BEAR League’s Executive Director, in an interview with The Sheet this week.
Bryant knows firsthand how bear controversies play out. The League recently made headlines after stepping in to prevent the California Department of Fish and Wildlife (CDFW) from euthanizing a Tahoe mother bear, nicknamed “Hope.” That standoff, she said, mirrors the tension over trapping now surfacing in Mammoth.
For the past several weeks, The Sheet has covered Mammoth’s own bear debate. At a recent Town Council meeting, CDFW officials pushed back on claims by former Mammoth Wildlife Specialist Steve Searles that trappings are a precursor to killing.
But Bryant doesn’t buy the denial. She’s seen the same story unfold before in Tahoe, she said.
In Hope’s case, CDFW cited multiple break-ins as justification for lethal removal. Hope and her cub, Bounce, were linked via DNA to at least 12 home break-ins over the past month.
Last Thursday, the bears broke into another home. In the process, Hope turned on a gas stove burner, nearly causing a fire. A CDFW staffer detected the odor of gas, called 911, and helped avert disaster. Eventually, Hope and Bounce climbed up a nearby tree.
The BEAR League responded to the announcement by urging residents on social media to “witness” the situation, an action the department later said “erroneously inflamed the situation.”
As a CDFW employee fired paintballs at the bears, a crowd gathered in front of the house. “Get out of South Lake Tahoe, Department of Fish and Wildlife!,” the protesters yelled, according to a report by SFGate.
Under public pressure, CDFW reversed course, withdrawing plans to euthanize Hope, and said it will instead monitor both bears. That said, the bear remains designated a “problem bear,” and trapping efforts are ongoing.
To understand the standoff, it helps to know the BEAR League’s role. In Tahoe, they are the equivalent of Steve Searles in Mammoth — bear sympathizers, whistleblowers, and critics of CDFW.
But it wasn’t always that way.
“We invited [CDFW] to our meetings. We had them help us train our volunteers. We even invited them to some of our volunteer parties,” Bryant said.
That early partnership led to cub rehabilitation centers and new depredation standards. Over time, though, Bryant said the relationship soured. The agency grew hostile, dismantling what she deemed progress and treating the League as adversaries. She said she watched a pattern emerge: bears trapped, tagged, dubbed “conflict bears,” and eventually killed.
The divide, she said, is ideological.
“How can you promote hunting and also promote respect for these animals?,” she pondered. “They belong here. They’re part of our environment. They deserve to live. It’s one or the other.”
Even the way the animals are named reflects the divide. The League gives Tahoe’s bears nicknames; CDFW reduces them to collar numbers.
“We [the locals] get to know the bears personally,” Bryant said. “They’re all individual, they’re all unique. They each have personalities just like humans do.”
Today, Bryant said she still meets weekly with a CDFW official, but no longer trusts the agency.
“They make up their rules as they go along. They answer to no one,” she said.
She argues that prevention, not trapping, is the real solution. The League hands out literature urging people not to feed bears and staffs a “bear emergencies” hotline, but Bryant doesn’t see CDFW doing the same.
“You see our literature everywhere,” she said. “They don’t have any.”
Time and time again, people have rallied behind activists like Bryant and Searles in defense of the bears. In 1998, the department killed a Tahoe mother bear, “Natalie,” causing uproar from the locals. Last year, it was “Victor” who sparked the outcry in Mammoth.
Now, “Hope” is the latest reminder of the cycle, and, to activists, a warning of what may soon unfold in Mammoth.
