As we sailed our way up the achingly remote Alaska Peninsula, I became focused on, or Diana might say obsessed with, bears. The place is dirty with them. We took deep pleasure in sighting them from the safety of the boat, or from a comfortable distance on land, but I longed to experience the thrill and awe that only proximity can bring. The Agrapina Bay estuary is a patchwork of chest-high grass and thick alder bushes, latticed with bear trails. Two hills lay beside each other in the valley’s center, creating a ravine that a prime salmon stream runs through.
It was a bit touchy making our way through the alder patches, but we reached the base of the hill without incident and began to climb. Now, exactly when does a bear sighting become a bear encounter? The hairs on the back of your neck are a good indicator. Bears have excellent sense of smell and hearing, but only moderate eyesight. The big bruin fixed those beady eyes on us, but as the wind was in our favor and we did not so much as twitch a muscle, he just couldn’t figure us out. He finally turned his attention to the succulent blueberries carpeting the tundra.
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