Coexisting with Bears
Nothing is more terrifying than seeing a 500 Lb. grizzly coming your way.
Their slow saunter is deceiving. For a moment, you wonder if you can outrun them. This thought quickly leaves your mind as you watch him barrel into the water and appear with a shiny silver salmon between his jagged teeth.
To most people, the word “bear” elicits the same image; a roaring grizzly standing on his hind legs about to charge, or a protective mother defending her cubs. In either case, the reaction is fear. Fear of the strength of these mighty beasts and the damage they can inflict.
However, over the years and my travels to Alaska, my fear has developed into a respect for these creatures as I realized that, like us, they are just trying to survive.
Living in New England, I’ve been around bears from a young age, however it’s a far different experience watching a black bear tearing apart your trash can than a grizzly tearing apart a salmon.
My first experience seeing a grizzly up close was a little scary I must admit. I was nine, and it was my first trip to Alaska. We’d anchored our drift boat off the tip of an island and we were fishing from the shore. Ready for lunch, my sister and I hobbled over to the boat in our new uncomfortable waders. My dad lifted my younger sister into the boat and helped me swing my legs over the tall sides. We called for my mom to come join us and she left her fishing spot. Not long after she hopped in the boat, twigs in the forest began to crunch and snap as a sow and her two cubs ran out of the woods and onto my mom’s fishing spot. Our guide unanchored the boat and re-anchored us a safe distance away so we could watch. To our surprise, the sow lumbered into the water followed by her two cubs. We watched with wide eyes as they swam past our boat to the bank down river.
Over my summers in Alaska, I have seen many bears and have become accustomed to them. My fear subsided and I knew that seeing a bear was inevitable. A few years ago, my family and I were exploring what we call “Eagle Island”. This island is known by our family for its driftwood, washed up salmon carcasses, and eagles, hence the name. I always thought that this place would be a prime spot for bears with the food available and tall grass to conceal them.
For many years we had only seen signs of bears like tracks and scat. However, this time was different. My cousins and I were hunting for driftwood while my mom and aunt walked beside us. Out of nowhere, three adolescent bears raced out of the woods and dove into the water 20 feet in front of us. I grabbed my younger cousins and held them close so they wouldn’t run. Behind me a frantic voice yells “Run!” That voice belonged to none other than my mom, who had been going to Alaska for many years and knew not to run. I could hear my dad behind her yelling “No! Do not run!” as he made his way down the shore and placed himself between us and the bears. We walked away slowly, facing the bears, until we reached the safety of the boat.
My mom and aunt were far more shaken up than us kids were. It was then that I realized having an unhealthy fear of bears can be just as dangerous as having no fear of them at all. The fear that my mom and aunt had made them forget all the knowledge they had learned about bear safety. Us kids, on the other hand, remembered to stay calm, not run, or turn our back to the grizzlies.
To mitigate risk in situations like these, I believe it is best to maintain a healthy respect for bears by knowing what they can do, but also understanding how they react when we are in their environment.
It is often said that bears are more afraid of us than we are of them. While this statement is debated, what is more plausible is that most bears don’t want to engage with us. They’d rather be left alone to eat and take care of their young than be out to get you.
It is when we disturb these things that situations go downhill fast. By having a healthy respect for bears I am able to remain calm during my yearly bear encounters and make better decisions to avoid conflict.