Last
summer my friend Trish and I spent 10 days in Juneau, Alaska visiting my
friends Denise, Clint, Christy and Scooter. It was an amazing experience,
remarkable for the fact that they folded us into their native lives so
naturally. Within an hour of stepping off the plane we were hiking up a
mountain in Auck Bay, watching a bald eagle circle the trees. We saw
whales leaping two feet out of the water, hiked to the base of a glacier, and
ate fresh halibut that had been caught an hour earlier. It was daylight
from 5AM until 12AM every day. But one day in particular stood out as a
truly atypical then anything I could experience in New York City.
One
morning Trish and Clint got up at 8am, intrepid souls, to go trail running with
a couple of his buddies at some trails by a lake. I figured that with my
two left feet, at fast speed, with lots of tree roots, trail running would be
an invitation to crutches for me, so I passed. Instead I decided to
visit the Mining Museum, where the first gold was found in them there hills…
the basis of Juneau being built in the first place. It’s a 45 minutes
walk out of town, and I stop by Cope Park, which is the where the Golden Creek
is dammed and ends its rapids before it loops into town.
The
water is loud and so very powerful, but even with its ferocity, so amazingly
clear, it had no sentiments in it at all. At parts it was about five
feet deep but you could still see every rock on the bottom. Minerals in
the water gave it a teal cast, which was a little bizarre since the sky was
grey. The river rocks ranged from boulders the size of tankers,
which the river had carved a slice through to rocks only as big as
coconuts. I try to figure out how to get from Cope Park to Basin Road,
where the museum is, and can’t do it, so I turn around, go back out to the
streets and hike up some hilly roads to find it.
About
one street away from the turn off, I noticed a really big dog crossing the
street about 20 feet in front of me. Pause. Wait. My mind
slowly comes around the realization that this isn't a big (we're talking four
feet tall on all fours) dog at all but a BLACK BEAR. Not in the woods,
not in a zoo but walking across the middle of the street in a suburb of
Juneau. I'm trying to remember what Clint had said about bears; am I supposed
to make noise or stay quiet? Panicked, I jumped behind a parked car and
hid. (Nowhere in my "hiding from a bear" survival scenario did I
think "parked car" would be an option!) The bear meanders
across the street like he owns it -- he wants nothing to do with me. He
(I’m assuming) walks into the yard of another house and is soon out of sight,
so I creep forward, since this is the only way to get to the Mining
Museum. After I get about 10 feet closer I see the bear has disappeared,
and that the neighbors next door are chatting as if nothing had happen, so I
figured I’m clear. After that I can relax, my first bear sighting, COOL!!
The
trail to the mining museum starts about two blocks after that; it’s a 45-minute
hike into the valley between Mt. Juneau and Mt. Roberts, along the upper part
of Gold Creek past the Juneau watershed. It was a really nice hike, with
scenery so huge that I was glad I didn’t have a camera, because there was no
way I could capture this photographically.
I
finally make it to the mining museum and it SUCKS. Basically, the least
interesting of all the old mining buildings which operated here until the
1940’s was kept up and they threw all the old mining junk into that one.
Nothing is labeled, there is one woman there who after taking my $4 goes
upstairs past a “private” door, so even if I had any questions, I had no one to
ask. They had a bunch of paperwork preserved from the mining company and I
started to read it, “order for two desk chairs and one desk.” Wait, a
purchase order? For office furniture? I thank God the hike was awesome
and leave in disgust.
When
I got back to the house and recounted the story of the big black bear, Christy
who has been here living here since April and has yet to see a black bear was
kinda annoyed. I show up and spot one in four days!
Thankfully,
later that day, as we are driving along the road in Tongass National Forest to
get to the glacier, which is located inside, Clint sees a bunch of people and
rangers at the side of the road and screeches to a stop. There must be
bears! We get out and see the rustling from three cinnamon black
bears (the equiv. of redheads in the black bear family) a mom and her
cubs.
The
junior rangers seems a bit nervous because a lot of the tourists were not giving
the bears enough room, and as everyone (should) know, you don’t mess with
mommies in the wild! If she thinks her cubs are threatened, she will
attack. The bears move back farther into the woods and then, make a break
for the other side of the road. The cubs are the cutest things ever, and
immediately it becomes apparent why teddy bears are a time-honored toy. The
mother is about the same size as the bear I saw earlier. Trish and Christy
manage to get some good shots, Scooter, meanwhile, takes a picture of four
ducks. “All together!” he crows. Something makes me think he may be
mocking us…