Alaska diary: Rangers and Bears

Park ranger Andy Keller slides a meter wide map mounted on thin plywood into a couple of two-by-four homemade "feet."

"My Denali Powerpoint presentation," he says with a grin.

About two dozen campers have assembled for the evening ranger talk, held nightly at an open air clearing on a hill in the Wonder Lake campground.  Benches of half-sawn logs face the expansive McKinley River basin below.  Across the miles of gravel bars, the Alaska Range hunches behind an evening cloud bank.  The tips of a few peaks are visible, but not Mt. McKinley.  Mostly a band of clouds stretches across the horizon with no hint of what lies beyond.

After a brief explanation of the difference between brown and black bears, Ranger Andy starts the evening with a question and answer routine.

Q.  How close should you approach a grizzly bear?
A.  No closer than 900 feet -- the length of 3 football fields. 

Q.  What should you do if you unexpectedly come upon a grizzly?"
A.  Do not run!  Running signals to a grizzly that supper is at hand.  Stand still and gently wave your hands above your head and talk softly to the bear while backing slowly away. 

Q.  Where should you leave scented items like food and toothpaste when not in use?
A.  In one of the camp bear lockers. 

Q.  While cooking, how long can you leave food unattended?
A.  Don't do it!  Have someone stay at the cooking site or put everything in lockers until you return. 

Q.  What about black bears?  What should you do if you come upon one?
A.  If the bear approaches, make yourself as big as possible by spreading out your jacket or standing in groups.  Make noise to scare the bear away.   

Q.  If a bear should attack, what should you do?
A.  Play dead.  Cover your head and neck with your arms.  Leave your backpack on to protect your back and spine.   

Q.  How many people have been killed by grizzly bears in Denali National Park in its almost 100-year-old history?
A.  None.

Three-year-old male grizzly

(Sadly, the week after we returned from Alaska, a 49-year-old hiker from San Diego took 8 minutes worth of film of a grizzly from a distance of about 80 feet.  The bear finally grew restless, attacking and killing the man, removing him from the gene pool.  The bear had to be killed and Rangers can no longer boast of zero grizzly fatalities in the park.)

Because Denali Park is so large -- over 2 million acres of wilderness -- the wildlife has plenty of area to roam.  The natural flora remain undisturbed, so that berries are plentiful.  (The blueberries were underfoot everywhere while we were there.)  And because human contact is limited and interactions with bears rarely initiated by visitors (no feeding, no close approaches for pictures -- our late photographer excepted, careful storage of food items at campsites), the bears do not associate people with anything threatening or appealing.  Andy mentions that bears frequently cruise through the Wonder Lake campsites, but since campers are careful to avoid contact or leave out food, the animals pass through without stopping -- most of the time.

Two women from Fairbanks, who are camping with their elementary-aged kids, sit on one of the front benches.  A girl of about 10, a younger girl and two smaller boys answer all of the ranger's questions, when called on.  They have been studying the Junior Ranger packet that Park Service employees give to youngsters.   Ranger Andy and his wife, Magali, conduct a brief award ceremony at the end of the bear talk.  The kids recite an oath, pledge to care for the wilderness, and receive the official Junior Ranger patch and certificate.  We applaud.

Olaus & Mardy Murie in winter gear

After our bear warnings and Junior Ranger presentation, the evening's talk focuses on the history of Denali Park and the people who were either directly or indirectly instrumental in its establishment.  Olaus Murie and his wife, Martha Thompson, pique my interest.  Olaus worked for the US Biological Survey in the early 1900's researching caribou herd migrations and collecting wildlife specimens.  That description sounds mundane, but travel and work in the wilds of Alaska at this time were brutal and demanding.  Imagine the area with few roads and no railroads, accessible only by dogsled or boat, depending on the season.  No down clothing or lightweight camping gear.  Supplies had to be carried, acquired from friendly trappers and miners, or replenished from hunting and fishing.  Olaus was a pioneering scientist by virtue of his ability to thrive in these conditions.

Andy and Magali Keller

Martha -- also known as Mardy -- grew up in Fairbanks where her father was a US Attorney, one of the first to serve in the Alaskan territory.  Although she lived in greater comfort than Olaus, she was used to long dark winters and extreme cold, swarms of mosquitos and streets of mud in the warmer months.  When she met Olaus, it sparked her adventurous spirit and her own love of the outdoors.

The two were married in 1924 and immediately departed on a 500-mile dogsled "honeymoon" across the northern mountains and tundra, so that Olaus could conduct his caribou studies.  A challenging first few months for a marriage -- which lasted 70 years.   The couple would go on to be instrumental in creating the Artctic Wildlife Refuge and Olaus would serve as a founding board member of the Wilderness Society.  Mardy lived to 101 and is sometimes called the "grandmother of the environmental movement."  Their story is lovingly retold in her memoir, Two in the Frozen North.  

Andy asks how many of us would spend a honeymoon in the Alaskan wilderness?  Of course, no one raises a hand.  "The only time someone said yes was when Magali was in the audience of a presentation I gave," he says.  "We were married soon after and have been hiking and exploring together ever since."  Magali and Andy both beam under the brim of their ranger hats.