Category: Chronicles of an Alaskan Outsider

  • 4 Tips On How To Avoid a Bear Attack

    4 Tips On How To Avoid a Bear Attack

    Prior to our move to Alaska one question started to keep me up at night. What if I created a blog called “Poking the Bear” only to be killed by a bear? That would be so embarrassing. Such a violent death is a hard enough without it being ironic too.

    The idea of bears and being ill prepared for Alaskan wildlife overall concerned me. I didn’t want to overthink it, but I didn’t want to under think it. My mind kept returning to Walter Herzog’s disturbing but fascinating documentary, “The Grissly Man.”

    [su_youtube url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9zixLoY5cQ”]

    We were already under contract on a house outside the town of Soldotna on the Kenai Peninsula. The house was surrounded by forest and spectacular lake views according to its on-line photos; we bought it without seeing it in person because when it comes to huge purchases we are savvy like that.

    Turns out those photos weren’t a lie, the views from our house are amazing, this is the view heading out the front door this morning.

    Sunrise, view from the front door

    Given our new home’s more remote location we could cross paths with wildlife at any time, and I probably wasn’t going to don bear bells and a hip holster with bear spray every time I went to unload the groceries.

    So, I started finding myself up in the middle of the night searching Youtube on all things related to bear attacks, which is quite the rabbit hole as one might expect.

    Here is a short list of what I found out.

    #1 – DO NOT SURPRISE A BEAR

    Wear bear bells, talk loudly, and try to hike in groups. You never want to surprise a bear. It is mentioned in this particular video that if you do surprise a bear, “you should walk backwards slowly, but don’t trip.”

    DON’T trip? Might need to sharpie that piece of advice on my arm so I don’t forget.

    [su_youtube url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftMLajDDkTM”]

    #2 – DON’T TURN AND RUN

    You can’t outrun a bear. Don’t try as you will just incite the bear’s predatory instincts.

    I have to admit, as someone who can almost run a mile in under three hours (not including a wine & cheese break) I’m relieved that “run” isn’t the answer. However, it did work for my friend Allison!

    See my post “My Friend Outran a Bear.”

    #3 – KNOW YOUR BEAR

    I only looked up the most common bears found in our area of the state. That would be the black bear and the brown bear, or grizzly.

    1. If it is a BLACK bear you make yourself look as big as in, “You don’t want to mess with this!” You try to be intimidating, you stand your ground, and you fight if he attacks.

    2. If it’s a BROWN bear you make yourself look small, as in “I’m a non-threatening meatless little thing, pay me no mind.” If a brown bear attacks, you cover your head and play dead which sounds, well that sounds impossible.

    https://www.themanual.com/outdoors/how-to-survive-a-bear-attack/

    #4 – ALWAYS CARRY BEAR SPRAY. OR A GUN.

    When it came to gathering information on bear attacks, I also did a bit of research off-line which felt sexy and rebellious. When we visited and just after we moved to Alaska I asked many locals their personal take on survival in bear country. The majority responded with absolute conviction that carrying a gun is the only valid protection.

    I had hoped tackling my fear of bears wasn’t dependent on tackling my fear of guns but I plan to go ahead and face both fears, with caution.

    Gameplan:

    1. Go on a bear viewing tour in Katmai National Park. I already have a cabin booked at the famous Brooks Lodge for such a thing next summer.

    2. Learn how to shoot a gun. The plan is for the kids to take the course as well.

    On the second point, I figure if we are moving to an area of the country where the majority of homeowners are also gun owners, my kids should at least know to treat and handle a gun. How as their mother I can go from encouraging them to join the March for Our Lives holding homemade signs that challenge the NRA to forcing them onto a shooting range is something I’ll have to reconcile later. But not now. Now I’m going to curl up in fetal position and nap.

  • Is Death a Bad Omen?

    Is Death a Bad Omen?

    Signs are everywhere. Signs that can be interpreted as good or bad, depending on who is doing the interpreting.

    As we move through our daily routines we don’t often notice signs. Within our comfort zones we are just less likely to look for them. But, when we are feeling vulnerable we become hypersensitive and aware. At these times signs suddenly appear out of the woodwork, or in this case, out of the woods.

    It was day one of our new life on the last frontier. It had been a long journey to up and move here from “the lower 48” not just in terms of distance, but financially. For example, a smallish box filled with half used but still good bottles of conditioner, body lotion, and gentle exfoliating face scrub to help brighten a dull complexion costs over $50 to ship. That’s almost enough to accept a spouse’s suggestion that those items should be tossed or given away. Almost.

    It was a long journey emotionally as well. There were the countless sleepless nights. There were even more numerous rants from my daughter about how we were going to “ruin her childhood.” There were all the “maybe we shouldn’t move” gatherings with friends. And there were the bittersweet dinners with my parents and my husband’s parents where they showed up looking old, and then continued to age at an accelerated speed throughout the evening.

    Whatever the obstacles, we decided to come anyway. We had made the trip, and we were just unloading our car in Soldotna, our new home on the Kenai peninsula. We were finally here, but nothing was settled. I was desperate for signs that we had made the right decision.

    Because I embrace all that is cliché I rented a classic “Alaskan-style” cabin for our first month in Alaska. Just as the photos promised, the cabin was charming, clean, and had stunning lake views. This was definitely a good sign. And, bonus good sign, the owner left us a canoe to use. I shoved my husband Mark, and my daughter Tatum, towards it and got ready to take a thousand and one post-worthy pics.

    Moments later, I was getting what I wanted. The jagged snowcapped mountain peaks in the distance. The mirror like surface of a lake surrounded by trees that doubled in height standing on the shoulders of their own reflections. Sunshine and blue skies, and occasionally, one of those cute little floater planes crossing overhead. And there was my husband and daughter bonding (as in my wildest dreams) as together they steered the canoe. I mean, come on, when it comes to living “the Alaskan dream” it couldn’t get any better than this. Or could it?

    Cue the moose.

    From the corner of my eye I spot him stepping out into the sunlight from the shadows of the forest. A moose sighting on day one! And the moose was headed our way to give us closer look! Good signs galore.

    Foaming at the mouth, I darted around trying to get a shot of my family in the canoe in the same frame as the moose who was now walking along the water, his long thin legs looking too delicate to carry the rest of him. And, indeed his legs did seem a little wobbly.

    I thought the moose would walk past at a safe distance, but instead he stopped right in front of our dock, just under the deck to our cabin. It was prime viewing from my spot as well as from the canoe. The three of us watched him standing there.

    “I’m ready to get out,” says Tatum.

    “We need to wait until he’s gone,” Mark tells her, “moose can be aggressive.”

    “But I want to get out now.”

    “That moose could kill you!” responds Mark in his classic 0 to 60 style, “do you want to die!?”

    Tatum starts paddling forward, Mark starts paddling backwards.

    “Stop it!” She whines

    “No, you stop it!”

    “He’ll move on in a second,” I assure everyone.

    The moose sits down.

    He starts to nibble on the leaves of a nearby bush, but it seems to me to be more out of habit than hunger. He stops nibbling, and sits there breathing very heavily. I have never seen a moose this close, but there is something wrong with this one. He seems to be struggling to hold his head up.

    After a moment he lays the rest of his body down, his head flat against the grass and face looking up towards me. I would say he is looking directly at me but his pupils have engulfed the white of his eyes. Hard to know what he is focused on, if anything. He snorts in despair.

    Crap, I think this moose is dying.

    Seeing it too, my husband and daughter have called a paddle truce and are now sitting quietly in a slow spin.

    “I don’t think you have to worry about the moose,” I tell Mark, “you can come in.”

    “What’s wrong with him mom?”

    I text the owner of the cabin who happens to be in fire and rescue, “I think there is a moose dying next to the cabin.” He suggests that the moose is probably just resting. I text him a photo. He tells me he will be right over.

    “Did someone shoot him?!” Tatum asks. She is against anyone owning much less using a gun, and that includes hunters. Post-Parkland shooting she was active in the “Never Again” movement, participating in her school walk out. She went to a rally in Denver, marching with her homemade sign that read, “Help, we are hostages of the NRA!” I expect that her views of gun ownership will help to shape the ongoing debate concerning all the injustices recently heaped upon her. Not only has she been forced to switch schools in her sophomore year, she has been forced to move to a particularly gun-friendly state.

    “I don’t think he was shot,” I quickly say, “maybe he’s sick.”

    “Plus moose hunting season hasn’t started yet,” Mark says, “And, it is illegal to shoot such a young moose, look at his antlers, the antlers need to at least have three prongs on each end.”

    I’ve stopped asking myself how my husband knows anything he knows.

    The canoe is now docked and Mark and Tatum walk past the moose who doesn’t even lift his head. Tatum stops and stares at him sadly. She knows.

    “Come on Tatum,” Mark says, “let’s go to the grocery store.”

    Tatum doesn’t move.

    “You can get Cheez-its.”

    The word “Cheez-its” turns out to be the word that cracks her frozen horror. “Okay,” she says and escapes up the stairs.

    “Who knows how long he was walking, probably got hit by a car,” I suggest.

    “Maybe,” Mark says, “but if it’s not that and he’s sick, no one should eat the meat.”

    (Note: there is actually a call list one can sign up for to get free moose road kill meat https://pokingthebear.org/the-roadkill-list/)

    I waited on the deck for the homeowner. The moose didn’t have long, his breaths were much more shallow now. Ugh.

    I suspect most would say seeing death on your first day in a new home is a bad omen, but I couldn’t afford to agree. Not for myself, and not for my daughter who was going to come back with all kinds of new reasons as to why we should go back to Boulder. I needed to turn this around somehow. If this couldn’t be manipulated into a good sign I was at least going to make it into a meaningful sign, and meaningful is better than good anyway. Right? Right.

    So, let’s break it down. Given my vulnerable state, why did the universe send me such beautiful creature only for it to die at my feet? What was the take away supposed to be? I looked into the moose’s huge black eyes for answers but all I got back was a vibe that read, “Um, this isn’t about you.” Which wasn’t helpful at all.

    Then it came to me! It was a lesson I learned years ago when I was dealt a bad card, literally. I was 14-years-old and accompanying my dad on his business trip to New Orleans. Not able to partake in any of the adult fun, I wandered the streets looking for something to do. I turned down one alley and saw a sign that read, “Tarot Reader.” I was intrigued. Soon I was sitting at a kitchen table across from a woman who surprised me by looking less like a Big Easy mystic and more like a suburban soccer mom. Belted jeans and I think a tucked-in polo shirt. Anyway, we were in the middle of what was a fantastic reading: it turns out I would be rich and famous and find great love! But then, I was dealt the Death card.

    Flipping over a tarot card and seeing the word DEATH below the image of a skeleton is unnerving even if you don’t believe in any of it, but soccer mom was quick to comfort me. She explained the card wasn’t necessarily bad, it just meant that there will be transition. Death marks the end of one chapter, and the beginning of another. Death can be very good, in fact. I remember her telling me something like how I was about to embark on an amazing adventure. In any case, I walked away feeling that my $30, a lot of money for a teenager in the 80s, had been very well spent. That soccer mom was good.

    The eyes of the moose were becoming duller, his breathing very shallow. I didn’t know if it was more inappropriate to stay or leave, neither felt right. I decided no creature deserves to go out on the image of my exhausted and bloated-from-air travel face. So, I said a little prayer, then retreated back across the deck far enough to where I could only see his hind legs. After about thirty seconds, one leg suddenly kicked out and then kicked again. Then all was still. It was the end for him and a transition for both of us.

    If interested in knowing how the moose died, check out “What Happens to Hunters Who Break the Law?

    Also, unfortunately it was decided that the moose was inedible. https://pokingthebear.org/the-roadkill-list/

  • Hunters Who Break the Law

    Hunters Who Break the Law

    What Happens to Hunters Who Break the Law?

    It was determined that the moose who died in our backyard which I wrote about https://pokingthebear.org/is-death-a-bad-omen/did so from a gunshot even though moose hunting season hadn’t started. Unfortunately, he was shot in his gut, so he probably died from the bullet penetrating his intestines rather than from blood loss. This is why the crew that hauled the moose away decided his meat wasn’t safe to eat.

    https://pokingthebear.org/the-roadkill-list/

    Even worse, judging by the size of his antlers with the help of this student science fair presentation outside the gun store, he was a young bull (male moose) and not to be targeted by hunters.

    Now there is a possibility that whoever killed our moose felt threatened by the animal and shot it defensively. But rules are rules, and moose belong to the state of Alaska. They are protected from poachers no matter where they tread, private property or not. Realizing that the moose was too young to be shot, our hunter likely fled the scene, hoping to escape punishment for his crime. But what are the penalties for illegal moose harvest in Alaska?

    I did some research on this. Not a lot, I mean I’m not THAT interested. But I learned a few things, mostly that there is a range of penalties from a fine, to jail time, and losing one’s hunting license for life.

    Also killing an animal illegally could kill your chances of getting laid.

    On Bumble, a woman flirts with a man she is only just getting to know. Hoping to impress, she brags about how she shot a deer that weekend. She even has photos at the kill site and of the “trophy” head. The man does find this intriguing as he knows it is no longer deer hunting season. He knows this because, and what she doesn’t know, he happens to be a game warden. Instead of going on a hot date, the next day the woman and her hunting friend are arrested.

    https://www.newsweek.com/game-warden-hunter-kills-deer-boast-dating-app-bumble-poached-deer-oklahoma-1284792

    What are the unlucky odds of bragging about an illegal wildlife kill to the one person you shouldn’t? Whatever that calculation is, in any social circumstance, my husband happens to have the same odds when it comes to saying the exact wrong thing to the exact wrong person.

    Anyway, the woman and her hunting buddy were fined $2500. I’m guessing that’s enough for multiple lessons learned.

    Cruel and unusual?

    But clearly fines aren’t enough to stop some hunters from continuing to ignore the law. One repeat offender was not only fined, and not only served jail time, but he was ordered to watch “Bambi” once a month until his time was served. Ouch!

    https://www.newsweek.com/judge-orders-hunter-watch-bambi-once-month-during-jail-sentence-illegal-1261989