Alaska, part 2. In which I encounter a ferocious bear.
Thursday, June 30, 2011 at 8:50PM On Sunday, I taught a dyeing class and encountered a ferocious bear. Both in Alaska.
I have some lovely pictures of the dyeing class, but I think the ferocious bear takes precedence. When was the last time we discussed ferocious bears? Like, never.
Plus, I almost died. Which is much more serious than saying I dyed.
Cordova has a road out of town. The road does not lead to another town as roads often do, but instead to a glacier. People who live here call the road The Road. Most of The Road is not open after November 1st.
I was driving on The Road. Only a small portion of The Road is paved. You then drive for a very long time on The Road before actually arriving at Child's Glacier. This being remote Alaska, there are no signs on The Road that say, "Glacier 43 miles."
No encouragement. No, "You're almost there -- don't quit now!" No, "Next rest stop 5 miles -- you can hold it, you really can!"
If you didn't know better, you'd think you were on the road to nowhere. But really, it's The Road to The Glacier.
While on The Road, you drive through the massive Copper River Delta. The runoff from several glaciers has created braided fingers of fast moving, chalky blue water than spans more than 35 miles.
I borrowed this aerial photo to give you a better idea of the scale.
I was invited to a potluck at the picnic area by The Glacier, which you would have no idea existed unless you actually followed the road to see where it ended.
It's a bit of a risky proposition. No houses, no businesses, no cell reception. What if your car breaks down? What if you are attacked by a ferocious bear? As you'll see, I soon found out exactly what happens.
So, I'm driving. I'm pulling over to take pictures periodically. This is part of the Copper River. I concluded that if you fell in, you would die.
It's cold and there's a fast current. And people-eating seals.
Usually my conclusions are correct. Sometimes not. But sometimes yes.
I had to stop to take a picture of Sheridan Glacier. Not The Glacier at the end of The Road. A different one.
I found all the bleached tree trunks littered about interesting. Clearly, they had been left there a long time ago when the river ran a different course. In 1964, this region had the largest earthquake ever recorded in North America, a 9.2 on the Richter scale. The earthquake caused a vertical shift of 40 feet in some places.
I concluded that this could also alter the course of a river. Several people told me that the fingers of the river change course regularly, and portions of The Road get washed out and have to be rebuilt.
I stopped to take some more pictures when I noticed several very large bones lying off to the side. I concluded that they were the bones of weary travelers whose cars had broken down on The Road.
Then I looked closer and decided that it was actually an entire moose leg. Femur, knee, lower leg, hoof. Like nearly as big as me.
Maybe bigger. Most things are big in Alaska.
As I continued on my drive, I spotted something in the distance. After ruling out a three-legged moose, a mountain goat, and a human-eating seal, I concluded that the dot on the horizon was a ferocious grizzly bear, with razor sharp claws and fangs the size of my head.
I slowed to a crawl, hoping that if I drove by quietly, the grizzly would not notice me.
As I got closer the grizzly -- who must have been protecting her triplet cubs -- reared up on her hind legs and roared so loudly that the windows of my vehicle shook from the vibration.
I stopped the car, uncertain of how to proceed. Clearly, the mother grizzly did not want me coming any closer. I couldn't just turn around, as the river lies just off The Road, and there are not exactly friendly signs that say, "Next turnaround spot 7 yards!"
Suddenly, the grizzly charged at me.
I flinched. Her aim was clear: to render me immobile by maiming my limbs, followed by slowly being eaten to death by triplet grizzly cubs.
Again and again the bear charged at me, its breath so close I could smell the stench of half-digested salmon.
Since the only weapon I carried was a pair of jumper cables, I concluded that I would be unable to fight off my attacker.
My only choice was flight. I drove my car in reverse, slowly backing away from the bloodthirsty -- probably rabid, possibly schizophrenic -- mother grizzly.
She responded by disappearing into the underbrush to man her carefully concealed sniper rifle. All the better to shoot prey for her triplets. People don't travel The Road that often. Giant grizzlies have to eat while the eating is good.
I concluded that this near-miss with a ferocious bear was more than I could take. I needed to eat chocolate to steady my nerves and steel my resolve to ward off any future attacks.
My only hope was that potluck waiting for me at the end of The Road.
As I drove past the ferocious bear's outpost, I rolled down my window a crack and threw my "In Case of Emergency" skein of yarn out the window, as a sort of peace offering.
From the safety of my rearview mirror, I saw a lone paw slowly pull the yarn (Bellini on McClellan Fingering) from The Road and into the dense forest.
I concluded that the bear's cubs will at least have something warm and pretty to wear this fall.
And my conclusions are usually correct.
What are the morals of this story, you ask?
I'll tell you.
1. Everything in Alaska is big.
2. Bears will shoot you if given the chance.
3. Always carry a skein of In Case of Emergency yarn.
Reader Comments (23)
I'm sorry but I have NEVER heard that everything is bigger in ALASKA -- believe that you really meant TEXAS. Speaking of Texas, you really must visit, especially south Texas, say Corpus Christi -- probably early next year when you are getting tired of the LONG Minnesotan winter. ;-)
BTW, did you see Mount Eccols School in Cordova? That's where I started grade school. I had to walk SO far...all the way to the parking lot that's about a block or so away -- it used to be a hotel many years ago...
Deb, I did see the elementary school -- it looks like the building was quite new, though? Built within the last couple of years, I would guess. Presumably, you did not start grade school within the past five years? ;)
THANK YOU! This post is the proof that I needed to show my husband that I am not the only one who keeps 'emergency yarn' in the car!