As promised in the other bear thread, here's some photographic teasers taken during the three days I spent on Kodiak with the island's most famous natives. Amazing experience.
Here I am the night before leaving, forsaking roughing it in the hopes of a good night's sleep. Make of this what you may. I call it: Ulee's air matress fellatio.
Heading out on the float plane. The orographic updrafts generated by the vastly mountainous landscape made the hour flight to Frazier Pass an exercise in fecal splash art on the canvas a la skivvies. This was more frightening to me than standing 10 feet from a 1,000+ pound bear.
Some scenery on the way out. Lush valleys capped by glaciers. Would you believe it was mid July?
Made it.
This one's especially for Chuck. I assure you I wasn't responsible for this, despite the assault on my intestinal fortitude on the flight out. I hope this is confirmation enough and answers your question. I realize what surrounds this evidence is mostly the igneous consistency of a gravel bar, but, hey, there is a weed to the immediate right of it. Does that count for anything? If not, apart from grabbing a few video stills of the actual act itself, this is about the best I can do.
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"Ladies and gentleman of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns."
Big Shush approaching his domain. Pictures don't do this colossus justice, especially from 100 feet away. Trust me, though, aside from his unexpected bluff charges, this was as close as I got to him, as close as I wanted to get. This guy was so intimidating, I'm convinced he could have pissed upwind of me with potentially fatal consequences.
Big Shush stalking King Salmon. The structure you see behind him is a man-made dam meant to herd the salmon into greater concentrations. It takes something away from the otherwise desolate surroundings, but makes it easier for the naturalists, who live in a shack at Frazier Pass, to tempt the bears to congregate and study their behaviors in their natural habitat.
Notice the difference in size between the four year old in the foreground and Big Shush lurking in the background. Even at a distance, you can see how huge he is in comparison.
This ballsy youngin' ripped off a salmon from a much older, larger male. He tore at it as if he was starving (which he wasn't). When his brother ambled over to see if he could bogue a few scraps, Little Giant Sac tore at his brother as if he wanted him to die.
The day after I flew back to Anchorage, the soon-to-be missus and I took a hike near Bird Mountain and had some some good wildlife-spotting fortune of a slightly different variety.
When he was done hydrating, he decided to be social and climb up to the trail. Damn mountain bikers. If not for them, we would have had Bullwinkle to ourselves.
Great pics, Cliffy. It must have been a rush getting that close to Big Shush. Those animals are incredibly powerful. Glad you and your fiance didn't go all Timothy what's his name....
Glad you and your fiance didn't go all Timothy what's his name....
Thanks, me too. The biggest difference between Treadwell and me is that he predicted he would one day become bear scat as if it was his destiny or something, whereas I was packing a double holster of UDAP bear neutralizer and always made it a point to stand next to the guy carrying the biggest gun. Guess I didn't see the appeal of spending time in the intenstinal tract of a Kodiak Brown.
It was a little unsettling, though, staying one night at the Shelikoff Lodge (where he used to camp out when not out with the bears) and being only a mile down the river from where he was feasted upon.
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Why do they call him "Big Slush"?
Hey, Jeff. Shush means 'bear' in the Athabascan dialect of Chipewyan. The naturalist that named him spent many years in the Interior studying the grizzly. The Interior is home to the largest concentrations of Athabascans in Alaska. I assume his time with them motivated the moniker.
By far, Big Shush was the largest, most surly bear on the river. In think the name is also representative of his place in the local hierarchy. The one bear I saw muster the onions to challenge him was summarily trounced and sent scurrying away in a rather emasculating retreat. He was one imposing sumbitch.
Thanks, me too. The biggest difference between Treadwell and me is that he predicted he would one day become bear scat as if it was his destiny or something, whereas I was packing a double holster of UDAP bear neutralizer and always made it a point to stand next to the guy carrying the biggest gun. Guess I didn't see the appeal of spending time in the intenstinal tract of a Kodiak Brown.
It was a little unsettling, though, staying one night at the Shelikoff Lodge (where he used to camp out when not out with the bears) and being only a mile down the river from where he was feasted upon.
Yeah, Timothy Treadwell... That dude was certifiable! Some of those on-camera rants against the Alaskan Game & Wildlife and Forestry Service were just nutso!
I'm all for preserving the bears but that guy went way beyond taking measures to help protect the bears, he felt like he was somehow kin to them. I've watched that documentary twice now and although he did get some great video footage and stills, I felt that he had an unnatural obsession with the bears.
It's not the exact same but I'm around some pretty big animals myself on pretty much a daily basis with the Russian Boars of the 4B. When you're in close proximity to a 400 lb. boar with 4" tusks, you better damn sure be aware of the environment. Any sows close by that are in estrus? Any babies nearby? How hungry are they? There's all kinds of things that can set them off. Some I know to look for but sometimes it's hard to tell. You just have to notice what their general attitudes are and you learn to give a wide birth to certain animals no matter what. Brown Bears are some badass carnivores. Make a mistake with them and you pay with your life as Timothy and his GF did.
Neat stuff, Cliffy. I had no idea you were an amateur naturalist. Very cool.
Very cool indeed. I can remember tying our gear up in the trees while camping in Ontario's Algonquin Park, because anything left on the ground would attract the bears at night, and the last thing you want is a pack of hungry 800 lb intruders sniffing around your tent when you're trying to get some quality time with Miss April 1987.
Those mountain bikers must be friends to the moose though, because around here you usually end up dead (or at the very least on life support) if you make the incredibly stupid assumption that moose won't fuck with us lowly humans. If there was a calf anywhere within 200 yards of that pic, those bikes would have fit in your knapsack for the journey home.
Maybe American moose are a friendlier breed than their Canadian brethren.
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