New Girl Observation No. 8: Lions, Tigers and Bears?

Around noon today, my husband stood in the middle of our living room with the slightly doomed look he gets when he has to pack. Around him were scattered items a person needs for a week in the Alaskan wilderness—or what we think he needs because we don’t actually know anything about it. We both have this vague picture of a lot of marshland, populated by moose, the occasional grizzly and a lot of mosquitoes.

Rubber boots? Check.
Bug spray? Check.
Bear spray? Got it.

Before I moved to Alaska, I contacted a Facebook friend of a friend who is living here in Anchorage. Judging from his photos, he was a hiker so I shot him a quick email for some summer hiking ideas. He replied with a few suggestions on Alaskan hiking safety—chief amongst them a hand-gun to purchase for backcountry protection.

Now let me just say that I’m not totally against guns, if it’s truly a matter of personal protection. I don’t want to get my head torn off by a raging animal the size of a Volkswagen. And I’d really prefer it if my golden retriever doesn’t get eaten either.

So we consulted with a few friends here in Anchorage about bear safety—principally another Colorado couple that moved a few years ago and have now settled into Alaskan life. I judge this solely by the fact that they have a great house within walking distance to downtown bars and they know how to go clamming (dig fast, they really move!) Anyways, these friends said we could get by with the bear spray for now and we’d inevitably get the gun later.

So Cam and I tromped down to the Sportsmen’s Warehouse a couple weeks ago. There we are amidst fly-rods, riles, ammunition and giant coolers and we sheepishly ask a guy to lead us to the bear spray. The salesman looks at us like we have two heads-they don’t have any bear spray. He suggests we try Wal-mart. So we drive over and another man behind a counter sells us what turns out to be an industrial sized can of what you would spray at a mugger if you could get it out of your purse in time. Apparently, hikers run into this same situation in the woods because you can buy a separate holster for quick access, like some people tragically wear cell phones. You can also write into the company (which is in Anchorage) and they’ll send you an empty can to practice with before you're staring into the face of a charging sow. I’m trying to imagine your thought process as you unleash a giant can of pepper-spray and hope for the best. I need that practice can.

I’m also trying to imagine a circumstance where a bear might get really angry. I saw three grizzlies last week in Talkeetna, lolling on the train tracks and soaking up afternoon rays. They didn't seem interested in the 50 tourists spilling out of busses and vans to photograph them.

Maybe it’s just hunger pangs that get them going—I talked to a state wildlife manager last week that told me about a demonstration at bear sanctuary in Sitka where two rescued bear cubs tore into a tent to find a hidden hot dog in about a minute flat. I’ve been warned.

As an aside, it appears that science is on my husband's side. Here's an article that shows that bear spray is more effective as a deterrent than a firearm in almost all cases.