In Search of Bears

Bound and determined to see more bear, we head to the Fish Creek Recreation Site again this morning. We had visions of dancing (well, okay prancing) bears in our heads. So, bright and early we pick up stakes and one more time cross the border into Hyder Alaska. This will definitely be our last time, at least for this trip.

Once in the U.S. we travel the 3.5 miles to the recreation site. We will not miss this rugged road. We chuckled because in the last two days we have seen several “road maintenance” trucks in the area. We’re just wondering what they are doing during the day? Maybe, salmon fishing?

We get the parking lot at 7:30 and can’t believe the number of vehicles already parked. Sure enough, the boardwalks are cluttered with tripods, cameras, lenses, binoculars, and hopeful photographers. The rangers on duty share that there was a mother black bear with three cubs in early, but the light was minimal and so picture taking wasn’t a possibility. Whether or not we would see them again was questionable. We did see an immature bald eagle and the bored photographers practiced their focusing and lens selection with the young eagle. Picture a boardwalk with probably twenty-five photographers. Almost all of them are on one side, hoping that the bears plop themselves on the small bluish-green pond for optimal picture taking. All lenses are directed this way. Someone quietly announces the presence of the immature eagle on the creek side and they all pick up stakes, moving to the other side of the boardwalk. Entertaining. It tempts you to say under your breath, “grizzly, six o’clock” and have everyone do a 180.

We had agreed that we would wait one hour and if nothing appeared, we would move on to our next destination. Time ticked away. Down to the last five minutes, one of the rangers became animated. He had heard rustling bushes across the road. We listened. Finally, we heard the sounds of the cubs. They were making high-pitched growling sounds. Then nothing. False alarm. The ranger said they probably went up the other way. Hopes dashed.

Getting ready to go, we hear the sounds again. Then, so bush movement. Then a newcomer from the parking lot alerted us to the mother bear, beginning to cross the road. The ranger instructed the new arrivals to stop in their tracks. He knew that the cubs were nearby and that the sow would be very protective. Hungry for pictures, the cameras started clicking. It wasn’t what everyone wanted; no bluish-green pond; rather a pot-holed dirt road. Well, you must strike when the iron is hot.

The mother bear continued to walk along the road, nervously looking behind her. “Where are those kids?” see seemed to be thinking. All at once, two of the cubs appeared from the bushes, one ambling and the other playfully running. Finally, the third cub appeared, literally bringing up the rear. They followed the mother bear and quickly disappeared into the woods on the other side. Knowing that they would soon reappear in the creek, we moved quickly to the boardwalk. Some of the photographers were still unaware of the bears’ presence. Everyone was dashing for the perfect spot. Where will the bears stop? Place your bets. Dennis and I went our separate ways, instinctively knowing to divide and conquer. Pity the poor nature photographer with a 600mm lens on the camera. These creatures were too close for such a lens. Scrambling to move down the boardwalk while fumbling with lens caps and tripods was not what one would want to be doing at a moment like this.

Oh, did the bears put on a show. It must have been our farewell party. Two of the cubs
playfully fought with each other. The third cub demonstrated his ability to quickly catch a salmon. He grabbed it, wrestled with the wriggling fish for a few seconds and then won the battle. The mother bear kept moving down the creek. It was if none of us were there. The four furry critters were oblivious to our presence. Mother finally took a fish, almost appearing to be giving a lesson to two of the cubs. The three of them enjoyed the feast. Again, two of the cubs did a playful fight. They were clearly having fun. There was water splashing, romping and swimming. The show lasted for ten minutes or so. They continued, following the stream.

Everyone was happy. Everyone had cooperated so that every lens that needed to be directed towards the foursome was permitted. It was a silent migration on the boardwalk. Everyone appreciated what he or she was witnessing.

What if we had left five minutes earlier? Perish the thought.

We happily retreated to our motor home, celebrated with a real breakfast of bacon and eggs. This was not a cereal kind of day.

We pulled out of the parking lot, satisfied. Less than a mile up the road, we spot the mother bear. Impossible. No, it was the mother bear. She was crossing the road again, annoyingly looking for those recalcitrant cubs. One by one they appeared. Once across the road, they began to climb the rocks, lumbering up the steep incline with relative ease. The mother rested at the top, while the cubs took different paths, exploring, chewing, scratching, and playing. The mother bear eyed an elderberry bush and enjoyed some dessert after a great salmon meal. The cubs ignored her, playing on the rocks. As quickly as they had appeared, they were gone. Up, up and higher they climbed. “The bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, to see what he could see.” Good old camp song still works.

We happily passed through Canadian Customs. We had almost become regulars. We grabbed a couple shots of the Stewart BC harbor before departing. One was of the small harbor area with some colorful pleasure craft. The other was of a ship taking on copper ore, locally mined. Stewart is also a big port for lumber. Lumber is cut from the interior of the province, transported by truck and then dropped into the harbor. The floating logs are then picked up by boats from as far away as Japan and China. A local told us that the Japanese ships have cutting equipment on board and by the time the ship is back in Japan, 2/3 of the logs have been transformed into pieces of lumber. The proprietor of a general store in Hyder Alaska said that the locals collect "stray" logs that drift away from the large groupings. They put rope around the logs. Each person has a different color or type of rope and everyone in town knows who has what. If you put rope around some logs, it is "hands off" for everyone else. He says it is a respected practice and everyone knows of the local rule. Of course, this is also a town that proudly advertises "no tax". One might think that this town would just as soon not have any government at all. They have their own rules and the rules are working.

We continued our journey towards Prince George about 350 miles from where we were. By now it was almost 11:00 and we had some miles to cover. The terrain was a mixture of hills and farms. The combination made for beautiful scenics.

Unbelievably, we saw three more bears, all in separate locations. We had a beary good day.