OMFG. Now that it's over it feels like I was in a dream world for the last few days, a vast ecosystem of interdependent wilderness, with brown bears (aka grizzlies) at the center of it all. We were neutral observers, not contributing or taking away from this environment. The bears here in Lake Clark National Park have never been hunted, nor habituated to people as a possible source of food. Our guide, Shawn, modeled how to move amongst them without entering their ORD (overt reactionary distance). We were no more significant to the bears than the seagulls that lingered about, ready to grab a leftover morsel.
The first foray into their domain was to a viewing platform overlooking a designated critical habitat area. Within two minutes we saw a bear chase and catch a salmon. I thought this would be the extent of it; we would watch from the protected platform, catch some photos, learn interesting bear facts and go home. Oh no. The next day we saw a mama and two cubs out in the mud flats at low tide. We put on muck boots and headed down to the beach. Shawn had us “gather tight” and we slowly walked toward them through the mud. We kept walking toward them. Mama looked up a few times, and Shawn had us stop a few times, but before long we were 50 feet away. Consciously or not, I was positioned right behind Shawn. I knew intellectually we were fine, based on the cool demeanor of our guide, but my body was saying, “Oh, hell no!” The closest I'd been to this feeling was when I went skydiving with my daughter Eva; “You can change your mind until the moment the door opens”. I was fine until the door opened and I had to put my feet out on the little railing and look down 9,000 feet. It felt like that. We put all our trust in Shawn, but he also put his trust in us to follow directions. Mama bear came even closer toward us, completely uninterested in our presence but very interested in the clams she was digging up. The cubs were mimicking mama but not getting much. We did not back up. I was probably not the only one who felt an instinct to run, but that was the lesson he had drilled into us the moment we got there; never run. Running in the mud would have been just ridiculous, anyway. Actually, he said, you CAN run… once. We stood, silently, respectfully, taking in this magnificent creature and her cubs. At one point a cub tried to take mama's clam, and mama bear taught that cub a lesson right in front of us. Eventually she veered off and I realized I had barely been breathing. And this was all before lunch the first full day.
Natural Habitat Adventures has been operating since 1985, when Ben Bressler brought people to see the baby seals that were being clubbed to death for their fur. He thought, rightfully, that people will fight for what they have personally experienced and recognized as worth preserving. Their motto is Conservation Through Exploration. They are partnered with World Wildlife Fund. The story how they came to own this property, grandfathered in when Lake Clark became a national park, is fascinating as well. Check out nathab.com. If you book a trip, tell 'em I sent you!
Having gotten over the shock of the first experience, my heart didn't race after that. I felt profoundly peaceful as we sank into the rhythm of the bears just doing their thing. The papa bears had mostly moved off the area. They commandeer the space in June when the salmon first run, then move into the hills for berries. There were some solo juveniles, but mostly mamas with one, two or three cubs that were about eight months old. For two days the schedule was breakfast, bears, lunch, rest, bears, dinner, bears, bed.
The accommodations were embarrassingly luxurious. Our chef, Heather, made delicious meals. We slept in heated cabins which were new this year. We had flush toilets and hot showers. This is in the middle of the wilderness, in case you hadn't noticed. To get here we took a forty minute ride in a seven seater Beaver, a type of plane built to carry heavy weight with short runways to far-flung villages. That was another gulp moment; squeezing into our seats and getting a look at the cockpit of a plane from the time of WWII. There were only 1600 ever made; 600 still in use. We didn't ask what happened to the others. We landed on the beach next to camp. The wheels have no tread so they don't throw up rocks and the pilot can slide around on the sand.
Throughout our time together, Shawn revealed a big heart, love, respect and humility in the presence of these beings, and we felt moved as he was being amongst them. We were watching families, “making a living”. Mama was teaching her cubs all day long, as they watched, tried, failed and tried again. Only 50% of cubs reach adulthood. Being able to experience them simply living their lives was incredibly moving. Set against the backdrop of the vastness of the landscape, it truly felt otherworldly and magical, but then all the more poignant, knowing it is in fact our world, so worth doing all we can to preserve it.
