MyDreamWalk

Bears Everywhere

“There is a bear around the bend…” ” There are a group of bears on the other side of the bridge”.

In the late afternoon vehicles stop to warn me about the many bears roaming the Stewart-Cassiar highway. I was already aware. I had seen many piles of their scat and knew bears were out in force.

What am I to do? I keep walking one hand on a large canister of bear spray the other grasping a bear blaster.

This is a long day. Up at 5 AM and start walking a warm-up outside of Smithers, British Columbia where I arrived by plane the previous night. Then I make the long drive to Bell 11 located north at the confluence of the Bell and Irving rivers. In 2009 I ended my last stage of this Dream Walk 67 kilometers north of Bell and will begin this year’s stage precisely at that point. I hope to be able to survive five weeks walking and reach to US border in the State of Washington north of the town of Diablo. Even with the long drive I manage to eke out 24 km walking.

Bell 11 is best known as a winter heli-ski resort popular with Europeans. Summer brings fishermen, scientists searching by helicopter for valuable minerals and a throng of tourists plying the Cassiar highway. Intrepid motorcyclists, traveling in bands of four of five stop for gas by few stay the night preferring to speed long distances along the Cassiar.

Bears Everywhere

I am spooked even though I’ve seen black bears and grizzlies in Alaska. I’ve sighted their tracks of the elusive polar bear far above the Arctic Circle. At night and along the remote road during the day I wonder how I would handle a real bear attack on me!

Today as I shuffled along the Alaska Highway between Pine Grove and Khuane most of the road was desolate. A few cars and supply trucks passed at ten minute intervals. I shouted, screamed and even sang to signal the bears that I was coming, alone, and harmless through their sacred territory.

There is another side to this urbanite fear. What other civilized community in the world can present you, within seven hours of New York, the constant concern of possibly being confronted by dangerous, yet majestic, wildlife? Only in the far north of our great continent!
It is a great privilege being here. I don’t expect to be eaten, at least not on this trip. In the unlikely event that I am, I know my soul will be able to drift for eternity among the peaks, rivers, marshes, fish, fauna, wildlife and other adventuresome souls who also may be found in this wonderful space they call the Yukon.