“The Big One”, Denali was impressive throughout. A quick rundown:
Pre: Camping is complicated, at least the first time. Scrambling for sleeping bags, tents, food, shoes(I think we know why these were important), and so on. Some items we could borrow and some had to be bought. Then there was the reservation process itself, which was relatively complicated. When to leave, when to head back, what to do when we got there; Planning was required every step of the way. It should get easier the next time, especially when you buy permanent gear, but for our initial foray… Worse, Denali’s distance from civilization doesn’t allow much modification once you’re on the road. But we worked at it and got things mostly on target. We hoped.
Day 1:
We left at an ungodly 6 AM away from Anchorage. The drive itself took ~5 hours, which went by pretty quickly. We all took turns playing DJ with Ipods, talking about gender, family, sex, money, and the like. Good stuff.
We passed through powerful scenery and inclement weather to arrive at the main entrance. While the opening gate was welcoming, barriers awaited. Unlike many parks, Denali will let you drive your car in, but they won’t let you take it through the entire grounds, which of course required more prep. Our first order of business was to register our campsite and eat. We go to the tourist building and I have a hideously bland burger. The rest of the group get similarly weak sauce, and our adventure becomes badly in need of upgrading. We decide to take the public road to its limit and hike the only trail in Denali, Savage River. Here’s an aerial view of how the main road looks at the guard house protecting the rest of the park:
Pretty place, no?
Speaking of aerial view, Savage River was a pleasant trial, but a trifle soft. So Nick and I went off-trail a quarter of the way through, climbing hills and outcroppings and getting fun views like the above. And this:
This was fun for a while, but trouble was apaw. Nick and I lingered on a hill, so that the rest of the group continued along. After coming down and getting back on the path, we passed a ranger walking towards the trail head. We exchanged our hellos and continued on, when a second later she yelled “Bear! Bear on the trail!”. Nick and I turned, and sure enough we saw a bear on the trail, not ninety seconds where we were climbing before.
Let’s back up a second. Bears were a prominent part of my Denali research. I, to my knowledge, have no bear phobias. Yet one has to respect in Denali that bears are prevalent. And, theoretically at least, bears are a genuine threat to life. More than something like exposure or, I dunno, syphilis. Now the fact that you can be killed doing something should not bar you from the activity. I regularly get into airplanes and drive cars. I’ve bungee jumped, and while I had a primal fear jumping off the crane, I would argue a little threat to life and limb once in a while makes life colorful. In fact, it was the expense of the Denali trip that turned me off somewhat, rather than the copious bears running around the park, which upon typing it I realize is some weird value system.
But for all that “makes life worth living” talk, I have a healthy respect for lethal activities. I might appreciate the rush of adrenaline, or getting from A to B, but that hardly crosses into suicidal. As such, we did plenty of bear research before coming to Denali. Bears, we learned, have powerful noses, and are in general leery of humans. They’re indirectly dangerous if they smell food, and they’re directly dangerous if you get in the way of their cubs or if you startle them. Don’t trap them in a corner either, but that seemed unlikely in 9,400 square miles of preserve. The direct dangers were easy (make lots of noise, don’t pet the adorable cubs!!!), but the food bit required preparation. Mainly it meant storing all food and wrappers inside bear canisters, and keeping nothing on you when you’re wandering around the woods. Easy enough, although we relaxed these standards somewhat near the end of the trip.
So back to this bear. This bear became two as its companion came lumbering down to join it. Nick swore they followed me down the mountain, but it’s hard to say. Being a good Denali guest I didn’t have food on me, but maybe I was rank enough to summon bears. I hope not, that would wreak havoc on my game. Regardless, we were confronted by two bears on the trail, yay fifty yards away from us. The park service recommends 250 yards, for what it’s worth.
The ranger was waving her arms and yelling like mad, to get their attention and drive them off. She suggested we do the same. We did so. Nick, bless his heart, was uncomfortable with the pair o’bear, and turned around and got ready to run off. The ranger turned and screamed “DO NOT RUN”. She was right of course, bears are attracted to running people. We went back to yelling and arm waving, trying to sound tough and look large. I took a quick break to snap a few photos.
Was I scared? I don’t think I was was scared per se. The best way to describe how I felt was “high alert”. My senses were trained on those grizzly bastards; I was focused. Fear wasn’t part of things, just being in the moment. There was a trill in my tummy, but if I didn’t feel safe exactly, I didn’t feel in mortal danger. It’s hard to describe.
The shouting/arm waving thing was going fine. The bears had sniffed around, but decided to about face and head back towards the trail head. I was sure a bus load of tourists was about to get a good show. Things were going along swimingly until another group of hikers came around the bend.
This was a situation. The bears noticed the other people, and the other people, those bastards, began to walk towards the bears. The ranger screamed “DO NOT WALK TOWARDS THE BEARS” and they listened. Mostly. But still, the bears were not happy to be confined so. They turned back towards us and took a few steps closer, their first. At each step that “high alert” feeling turned into “higher alert”. Running was a terrible idea. Right?
Well we kept waving and shouting and eventually the bears decided they had had enough. Jumping into the cold Savage River they went to the other side and climed a big hill yonder. Here’s a shot of them deciding to take a plunge:
You can just make out the other group in the background.
The rest of the walk was uneventful (but to be fair, where else is there to go after that?).
Which is not to say the day was over, but that will have to wait until later. I have a final I need to study for.
