Once, in my Hippie days in the early 1970's, I was chased by a couple of fun loving cowboys in Wyoming near Lander while walking in the woods one fine summer day.
I sprinted down a path a couple of hundred yards and I was looking to keep going for good measure when I surprised a Momma Moose who promptly started chasing me. I turned and ran even faster straight back at the Cowboys. I figured two 170 pounders were better than one 600 pounder defending her future. In that time, the Cowboys were gone, most likely laughing about scaring the **** out of me, not knowing I was double afraid of the Moose. Back at the canyon road where I started, serenity returned when the Moose broke off her chase.
Good Times!