Another day, another day out. This time it was my day off, so it was all just for the fun of it, with nothing work-related expected of me. I'd bullied the LE boys into taking me on another adventure. I don't know where Mike and Jim originally intended to go, but remembering the creek we hadn't had time to explore, I overruled both of them (how I was so frequently allowed to do that, I still have no idea) and we agreed to go back. I was in my cabin, suiting up for the inevitable fall(s) into a creek filled with dead fish and bears, when there was a knock on the door.
I figured it was the LE boys telling me to hurry up already, so I hollered out a few probably inappropriate things, flung open the door, and almost ran right into a very startled Nick.
So a few points of clarification here: this is NOT the Ranger Nick from Denali. This is one of the Bear Techs here at Katmai, charged with making wild bears mind arbitrary boundaries and rules, armed only with a can of bear spray and some weird noises, and sometimes a plastic bag or a stick. I already declared Rylee to be the fiercest of Bear Techs, and I stand by that, despite the fact that she is a hundred pounds soaking wet and about as intimidating as a bumblebee, but Nick comes in at number three, which isn't too bad. ...Even if there ARE only three Bear Techs this season, but nevermind that.
Secondly, you may be wondering why he's not featured in any of my earlier stories: well, he's been here the whole season, and actually lives next door with Tammy Queen of Bears, and he was mentioned in an earlier post briefly (he dropped Cheryl and I off for our camping trip) but otherwise has mostly avoided us. Can't blame him, really, since we can be a bit rowdy in the most boring possible way. If all you heard from next door was shrieks, raucous laughter, and overly animated debates, intermingled with the occasional shrill screaming of a fire alarm, you'd probably avoid that cabin too. Also, I DID get Covid, so we were a literal plague house, so I guess there's that too.
Actually, now that I think of it, I'm more surprised by his appearance in our doorway than I was when it happened. I'm a little surprised anyone was brave enough to approach our cabin.
Turns out he had the day off, and was bored enough to risk the association and see if anyone was home and might be willing to go hiking. Instead, I roped the poor, unsuspecting new acquaintance into our adventure. When I showed up with an extra person in tow, all Mike said was "Oh good. A bear tech might come in handy." And with that, off we went.
The problem with bringing a bear tech along on an adventure is that it pretty much guarantees that you will not see a single bear the entire time. We didn't. Not even one. We spent hours wandering along the bank of the creek, and saw plenty of bear sign, but no bears. Mike and I had worn waders, but I am short, so quickly had to abandon the river for the relative safety of the bank. Mike sloshed through undaunted, despite several slips into the dead-fish smelling water. No thank you. On the way back he retreated to the shore as well, which was only sensible (and far less time consuming.)
At least the scenery was pretty.
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The mouth, which was as far as we'd gotten on the last trip
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| Originally the water had seemed the easier (or at least more fun) route to walk |
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| Mike reconsidering some of the decisions he's made |
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| The boys on the way back, either unaware that I was lagging behind, or just tired of indulging me and my need to take a thousand pictures |
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| But you have to admit, it's very picturesque |
We made it back without incident, but I hate to waste the effort of putting on waders, so the girls (who had just gotten off work) met me off the boat to go for another river walk. This one was a much more familiar one: we walked from the Falls Platform back up to the Bridge at camp. It's not a long walk, but it is chock full of twists and turns, and tall grass hiding bears only feet away. Rylee had brought her good camera, much more assured of her own balance than yours truly apparently. I'd opted for my little waterproof one, just in case I took a dunking, but with only a pathetic little zoom, it means that for any picture I took, I'd have to get reeeeeally close to the subject. Cheryl was leaving the photo-taking to us, and intent on keeping us from all getting killed, or worse, fishy. I cannot exaggerate how bad the river smells by September. I don't think that smell comes out if you fall into it.
Walking the river is way easier with the girls than with the boys, for one very important reason: Rylee and Cheryl are approximately my height, so if it's too deep for me, it's ALSO too deep for them, so there's no struggling to keep up in chest-deep water when the people with you are practically running through it only knee deep (okay, a slight exaggeration, but only a slight one). That isn't to say the water way was any shallower-- it just means when it came to struggling through the deep parts it was chest deep on ALL of us, and on more than one occasion we had to pull Rylee through the current, since she's practically weightless.
This time there were bears everywhere. Every corner we turned, every bank we approached, every tussock of tall grass hid a bear. We never even made it to the bridge as planned. We got within sight of it, but had to duck off to the side and walk through the swampy grounds to cut a wide swathe around the parade of bears between us and relative safety. It also means I took a minimum of pictures, because between windmilling my arms to keep my balance in the current, and trying to pay attention to our surroundings, my camera mostly stayed stuffed down my waders.
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| Photo by Rylee |
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