Here’s some handy information for anyone considering visiting Alaska: a/k/a The Last Frontier: WE HAVE BEARS HERE.
These are not kind, gentle bears. These are not bears who love “Hunny” and form friendships with a variety of woodland creatures; these are not bears who loiter around train stations with floppy hats and tags around their necks that read “Please look after this bear. Thank you.” In fact, if these bears did have tags around their necks, they’d much more likely read: “Wild, unpredictable omnivorous animal with really long claws and really sharp teeth,” but you probably wouldn’t want to get close enough to read that tag. No indeedy. Stephen Colbert has done his part to inform the public about the dangers bears pose to life and limb … but apparently, not enough people are listening.
For chrissakes, people: LISSEN!!!!!
What really irks me, however, is not that visitors to the state might be naive enough to not associate that big fluffy ball of Disneyesque adorableness with painful, stinky, slow, messy death, but—if the news lately has been any indication—there are quite a few locals who could use a reminder about the dangers bears pose. (not to mention, dangerously sparkly-n-sexxy bears posing: but that’s another post for another time)
Just a few examples: (you might have to register, sorry)
And there are many more.
I’m not passing judgment about any of these people: the truth is, no matter how cautious a person is, when you live in close proximity with wild animals, it is almost inevitable that you might run into one some day. I have had many close bear encounters during my time here in Alaska. I know a lot of people who have. The good news is, most encounters end with no blood shed and no gnawing of heads and necks (yours) by long, foetid yellow teeth encased in slavering jaws (the bear’s).
These beautiful and dangerous creatures love salmon just as much as people do, and they love to sleep in the woods just as much as people do, and they also don’t enjoy being taken by surprise, and they are also especially protective of their cubs, i.e. their yiddow beebees.
So when you happen to encounter a bear—whether it’s in Alaska or another wild part of the world—the best thing you can have is knowledge. People should read up on bears, especially on ways to avoid them. In other words: don’t be a dumbass.
Finally, should the worst happen, there are things one can do to better his or her chances of living to tell the story to the Anchorage Daily News. It can even be useful to know which kind of bear you’re dealing with: a black bear or a brown or “grizzly” bear. One theory is—the black bear is more likely to back off if a person takes an agressive confrontational stance: you can hold your jacket over your head to appear bigger, and/or bang some pans together if you’re camping to make a scary noise. If the bear is a grizzly, however, your best bet is to just play dead. Fall down to the ground, curl up in a fetal position, tucking your head down and covering the back of your neck with your hands, threading your fingers together tightly. Then don’t move. Even if you’re being chewed on. It’s ok, most bears can’t actually fit a human head into their mouths, crushing it like a hairy brain-filled egg. Most bears.
I’ll leave the rest of your education about bears to the many articles by the many fine writers that I’ve provided links to. But keep this thought in mind: the theory that one should react in different ways in a bear encounter: depending on whether it’s a black bear or a brown bear.
Keep that in mind, and stay tuned for Jess’s Theory of Bears Part II: Bear Defense Theory and New York Applications.
P.S. I couldn’t find the perfect place to insert a link to this particular image … so I shall simply place it here … at the end … alone … with you … so alone … to fill your dreams with haunting images of bad-touch bears …. brrrr ….
