After my harrowing bear experiences out at the Point Bridgett trail on June 2, 2009 I developed an understandable fear of bears. However, realizing that fear is an unhealthy attitude that is based in ignorance and in my case an unlucky first exposure to these creatures, I have forced myself to break through my trepidation and encounter bears so that I could develop a healthier attitude about them. I have since gone on many bear shoots for photos and to extend the boundaries of my comfort zone. I even vowed that I would one day go back to Point Bridgett and overcome this phobia (one day). I had of course, intended to continually push this off to a vague "some day in the future."
Then there was Cori. I met Cori Stennett on the Ferry ride up from Bellingham, WA to Juneau, AK in early April 2010. She is an awesome lady with lots of neat experiences in long-term sea kayaking, fire ball dancing, hula hooping, and other generally bad-ass things. Cori calls me up one day, our second week in Juneau, and asks if I want to go camping with her at a cabin she had rented for two nights. Another mutual friend had to back out and Cori was desperately trying for a last-ditch effort at a hiking buddy. When she called I was ecstatic at a chance to go to a cabin, especially something with the name Blue Mussel Cove Cabin. But, when she revealed that we would come to it via the Point Bridgett trail, every follicle of hair on my body stood on end in disbelief that I was so abruptly being asked to willingly step into this place of imminent doom so shortly after having gotten back into town. I wasn't ready to die yet! I still had an entire season of work to do! She also informed me that she would be going whether or not I was accompanying her, but she would rather have the company. Great. If I go, I die. If i don't go, my friend dies. (And no, I'm not being slightly over-dramatic about this!) She told me I had all night to think about it and she was heading out the next morning around 11am.
I didn't sleep much that night. When my eyes did shut I was pretty sure I wasn't going. There were so many excuses to be made. I didn't have the right gear. I needed to find a place to live. I hadn't been given ample notice. And weather reports stated that some storms ought to be rolling in. Two things kept nagging at me though: I NEEDED to face and conquer this fear and the thought of her out there battling the grizzlies alone was not a fitting scenario for me to strand her in. Choices, choices. My stomach hurt rather relentlessly that next morning, and though I was pathetic in my lack of resolve, I made my decision to go by 10 am.
We got up to the trail by around 1pm and felt pretty confident that we could make it the 3.5 miles with 60 lb packs through the snow before it got dark. I had of course explained what this trip represented to me and that this was testing every fiber of courage I had to muster. Cori was very gracious and tried to reassure me the whole way, but I knew that this battle was an internal one and could be fought with nothing other than movement through time. The trail was more difficult to navigate in the snow, but we stayed on course pretty steadily. As we neared the exact meadow where "It" had happened, my nerves began shrieking in my ears and I could feel the fight or flight raging forth to the surface. All around us were these giant piles of scat- it must have been the bears' toilet! We're not talking 3-4, but more like hundreds of piles!
I imagined how many there were secretively crouched beneath the boughs of the Spruces encircling us- it was a dismal thought and I wasn't quite sure we'd make it through unscathed. No pictures were taken through this section- I was disallowing any stopping and the bear calls were as loud and obnoxious (and pleading) as possible. When we made it through this section to a different cabin site with its welcoming picnic table, we paused for water and a brief rest. It was only then that I released my subconscious death grip on my hiking poles; I'd actually cut deeply into the skin of my hands with my own nails and hadn't noticed it.
A few more tenuous spots and some steep ridge lines and we'd made it to our cabin and private beach. It was an amazing view, but despite the glory of having made it, the only thought consuming my mind was that I wouldn't make the return trip alive. It loomed their, two days in the distance and all I could wish for was that it was already upon us so it could be faced already. What demons to host. The next two days calmed me and I found how lovely it was to be there enjoying very basic pleasures. We saw quite a lot of wildlife, including a Rufous Hummingbird who almost flew into our window, probably thinking it was a rival male with whom to fight. Humpbacks graced our little cove with the powerful sound of their deep breathing. Sea Lions patrolled off the rocks, wondering what we could possibly be doing there. Many sea ducks made their living along the tidal zone and our explorations amidst the barnacles rewarded us with bright green anemones and peaceful sunsets.
Perhaps the greatest blessing of the trip was on the morning of our departure. After we'd completely packed up our things and headed out to the rocks on the beach, we dropped our gear and stripped our hiking layers down so we could do some yoga in the sunshine. As peace descended and I prepared my heart to walk once more through a very challenging place, a pod of Orcas (my favorite thing to see) swam right in front of us, the sun glistening on their sleek bodies. Even more special was the sighting of an incredibly new calf among them; he might only have been days to weeks old! That set my spirit high and my hopes of return rose along too.
While the return trip was less tense, we still made up funny bear calls and I'm sure my stress levels were palpable. When we got back to town we marveled at we could have walked through such a heavily "soiled" area and not have run into even one bear. In the recounting of the trip to friends I came to realize that I had let fear get the best of my mind and had forgotten what Bear scat looks like... What we saw happened to be the product of a horse ranch. So yes, it would appear that I am cured of my bear phobias, but have replaced it with a grave fear of horses- haha. Sometimes I blush to think of the silly things that run through my mind!
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