Denali – The Tale of Ten Bears

 

My joy is indescribable.  After five days of rain, the weather has broken.

But that’s not the only reason for my good humor.  Today, I happen to be the only guest at the lodge.  So instead of joining a group hike, I get to go exploring with a personal guide.

I’ve enjoyed the group hikes.  But invariably, we march through the terrain chattering like finches.  It’s human dynamics.  We often pay more attention to our hiking companions than to the nature around us.  And while I’ve enjoyed my fellow hikers, today I yearn to commune with the land.

I study the lapis sky and feel the chill air against my face.  For too long my senses have been muted within the four walls of my office.  This land is the medicine I need.  And today, I want to experience something larger than myself.

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Away We Go!

Ryan, my guide for the day, arrives with the small van we’ll be using to get around the park.  Ryan’s lanky frame towers over me.  At first, I worry that he’s been “stuck” showing me around.  But I come to suspect I’ve freed him from more mundane chores around the lodge.

“What do you want to do today?” Ryan asks.

“I want to see Grizzly bears.”

This is destined to be a great day.

 

Denali Comes out to Play

The clearing weather reveals Mt. Denali (20,310’).  The snow-covered massif adorns the horizon like a masterpiece hung on the wall of a museum.  In the morning light, the mountain illuminates the tundra like a second sun

 

 

 

We stop along the shore of Wonder Lake for some photos.  In the morning calm the lake has a mirror-like surface.

 

 

 

In the distance, I notice a bulbous black shape gliding through the water.  My first thought is “beaver.”  Maybe a beaver with a branch in its mouth?  But the leaves are on the wrong side of the animal.  And it’s much too big!

It’s not an animal at all.  It’s part of an animal!  Ryan quickly identifies the female moose as it swims toward us.  The cow emerges from the water further down the shoreline.  It gives a great shake and, still dripping, plunges into the boreal forest.

 

 

Traveling Along the Tundra

Ryan and I drive on.  He grew up in the same region of California where I live.  But his speech pattern reminds me of a mid-westerner.  He’s friendly, but not particularly loquacious.  I like that.  I can scan the landscape without feeling the need to make idle conversation.  Ryan turns out to be an excellent companion.

The road winds along one side of a massive valley.  The ground slopes below us to tundra and boreal forest.  Emerald moss drapes the tundra, bathing it in green.

Denali towers over the crowns of spruce trees in the boreal forest. It’s massive!  It’s Alaska as both scenery and force of nature.

 

 

 

 

The Well-dressed Hiker

I want to take a moment to describe my attire.  You may be surprised to see me wearing rain pants and gaiters on a sunny day.  It’s August, but its chilly.  And it’s been raining for more than five days.

The rain pants protect me from the wet moss and foliage on the tundra.  And the gaiters keep water droplets from rolling down my rain pants and into the open tops of my boots.

 

 

I’m also carrying a thermal top, gloves, and my rain jacket (of course).  This allows me to add or subtract layers as the weather changes.

 

Grassy Pass

We head to Grassy Pass in the hope of seeing Grizzlies.  As our vehicle climbs the main road, we pass a cyclist, his bike laden with saddlebags.  I heard about him yesterday from other hikers.  He biked to the park from Seattle!  He spent the night at Wonder Lake campground and must now be biking the 90 miles to the park entrance.  I assume if he gets tired he can load his bicycle onto a passing park bus.  I shake my head as I picture the hills between here and the park entrance.  I can’t fathom the effort required to climb them on a bicycle, on a gravel road.

We drive onward toward Grassy Pass and, as we get close, we spy a mother Grizzly and two cubs.  Mother has bright blond shoulders.  And the cubs bear a family resemblance (pun intended).

They’re quite a way from the road.  But this is the first time I’ve had a good look at Grizzly bears.

Grizzlies usually lead solitary lives.  The exception is a mother with cubs.  I enjoy watching the family group.

Grizzly bears are omnivorous, eating grasses, berries, roots, fish and small mammals.  They also hunt caribou and moose.  Coastal bears can dine on returning salmon.  But at this time of year in Denali, blueberries (Vaccinium uliginosum) and soapberries (Shepherdia canadensis) play a critical role in helping the bears gain fat reserves they need for their winter hibernation.  And the bear family is eating like there’s no tomorrow!

Ryan pulls the van to the side of the road.  We’ve reached the starting point of our hike.  We discuss our plan and decide to set up an observation post on a large hill south of the road.  The bear family is north of the road and shouldn’t pose a threat to us when we’re on foot.  Just the same, we’ll try to keep track of them to prevent our paths from crossing.

The park recommends staying at least 300 yards from Grizzly bears¹.  This may seem like a lot.  But bears can cover nearly 40 feet per second when sprinting.  Ryan carries bear spray, just in case.  But the plan is to detect the bears while they’re still far away and avoid close contact.

Grizzly bears usually don’t attack groups of three or more people.  Ryan and I are just two.  However, being “bear aware” and keeping your distance is an effective strategy for staying safe.  A study of 675 bear attacks in Alaska found that, in the vast majority of incidents where bears charged, people confronted them at close range (within ten yards or less).

In more than 50 percent of those situations, the person was not physically hurt.  Of the 313 cases where the bears injured the person, 36% of injuries were to legs and feet, 18% to the back, 18% to arms, and 9% to head and neck².

I’m confident that Ryan’s experience and our situational awareness will keep us safe.

 

But Wait, There’s More

Before leaving the vehicle, I throw Ryan a curveball.  Near where we’re hiking, I spy a beaver’s lodge.  This is the first one I’ve ever seen.  I ask whether we can visit the lodge when we’re done observing bears.  To my delight, Ryan agrees!  But he warns that we may have a wet hike.  The beaver has dammed a creek to flood a wide area around the lodge.  We’ll also need to penetrate rings of willow bushes growing in the flood plain.  But I’m enthused to give it a try.

 

Observation Post

We leave the vehicle and head for a pair of nearby hills that rise like great shoulders above the valley.  They promise an unobstructed view for miles in all directions.

The road passes to the east of the hills.  To the north and west is the McKinley River Bar.  The river is braided, flowing over a one-mile wide gravel bar that’s free of vegetation. On the far side of the bar is thick spruce forest.  The Alaska Range and Mt. Denali lie beyond.

Close to the hills is the Thorofare River.  It is also braided with a large gravel bar.  It gets its name because Caribou use the gravel bar as a migration route.  It’s easier for them to walk on the gravel than the tundra.

 

 

 

 

The air is still, a result of the cool air temperature.  Shrieks from gyrfalcons flying overhead carry for miles.

I snap some photos from the first summit as Ryan climbs ahead to set up our observation post.

I lope after him and arrive at the second summit.  Stretching below are miles of spongy, wet tundra with a network of hidden ponds and bogs.  The view is awe inspiring!

Today, we’re fortunate to have a Swarovski spotting scope to help us find bears.  It’s the lodge’s equipment and probably cost more than my first car!

 

 

 

 

We point the scope toward the three bears we saw earlier, north of the road.  They’re still feeding on blueberries about 200 yards from the road.  As we observe them I notice other movement, coming toward us.

It’s the cyclist we saw earlier!  He’s still trundling up the gravel road.  I doubt he can see the bears.  They’re up-slope, above the road.  And he is fixated on keeping the pedals moving as he climbs to Grassy Pass.

I watch with concern as the oblivious cyclist passes directly beneath the feeding Grizzlies.  It’s like watching a car wreck in super slow motion!

But the bears take no notice and cyclist continues on his way.  I’m too late to photograph the closest approach.  But I do get this shot as they part ways.  The bears are just out of frame.

 

 

Ten Bears

After a few minutes watching the bear family.  Ryan and I scan for others.  We each use our binoculars, searching for brown lumps against the green tundra.

Ryan spots a mother and two cubs southeast of us.  Now we have bears on two sides!  But the gravel bar divides us from the second bear family.  We swing the scope around and observe the new group.

After a few minutes, Ryan asks, “Are those bears over there?”

He indicates the same direction as the new family, but much closer to us.  I raise my field glasses and, sure enough, more bears.  In fact, it’s the largest grizzly I’ve ever seen!  Even at this distance she dwarfs the two adults we saw earlier.  She is one big mother bear!  And she’s not alone.  Trailing close behind is a cub, and then another, and then another cub!  This female has triplets!

Ryan adjusts the scope and we can now see seven bears in the field of view.  There’s the mother with two cubs, and the huge female with her three cubs.  Ryan points out the copious blueberries spreading in all directions around the feeding bears.  The abundant food source is the only reason the two families tolerate each other’s presence.

As we sit, watching, we realize that we’re surrounded by ten grizzly bears!  When Ryan promises bears, he delivers! 

I gleefully bestow a guide-name on Ryan.  From this day forward he shall be known to Denali tourists as “Ten Bears.”  🙂

Researchers estimate that 300 to 350 Grizzly bears inhabit Denali National Park on the north side of the Alaska Range.  And here we are watching ten of them!

This time of year, the bears experience hyperphagia, an urgent hunger that helps them gain fat for their upcoming hibernation.  A Grizzly may consume hundreds of thousands berries each day¹.  And it’s fascinating to watch the bear families vacuum berries from the tundra.

Our roost provides a safe perch from which to observe the bears.  But unfortunately, it puts us beyond the range of my camera.  So here are some pictures of a Grizzly bear I observed from an enclosed vehicle two days after this hike.

 

 

 

 

 

Ryan “Ten Bears” and I pack up the scope and head for the beaver lodge. 

Amazing, ten bears!!!!

 

 

Bitter Surprise

Along the way we encounter some ankle-high Moss Gentian (Gentiana prostrata).  The pale pink-purple flowers stand out against the scree slopes.

The flower is named after “Gentius,” a King of Illyria who is reputed to have found the Gentian plants near him beneficial for curing malaria in his troops.

The roots of these flowers were used for centuries to make bitters (herbal tonics – usually a tea or alcoholic extract).  These are thought to stimulate the appetite, improve digestion, and to treat a variety of GI complaints (heartburn, vomiting, stomach ache, diarrhea).

I munch on the root, preparing for worst.

Yes, it is bitter.  Very bitter.  But it is also slightly sweet, with an aromatic taste.  Despite it’s bitterness, the taste is pleasant in a way I didn’t expect.  I can see why people use this plant to make tonics and tinctures.

 

 

 

Strange Bedfellows

We set off down the hill at a brisk pace.  But we soon slow as we hunt for paths through the stands of alder and willow bushes.  We also need to decide on how to approach the lodge through the flooded terrain.

 

 

 

 

 

To avoid a dense stand of alder, we hug a slight ridge about 30 feet below its crest.  Without warning, we arrive at a small draw with slopes on three sides.  Looking around, I see a familiar pattern.  The grass has been flattened like I see with deer beds in California.  But these are much larger than any deer bed I’ve ever seen.  My first thought is Grizzly bed.  But Ryan says they’re too large to be made by Grizzly.  And there are several of them together.  Grizzlies are solitary creatures and it would require a small herd to make so many.

The site is nestled in the crook of the ridge above us.  It’s a secret place, sheltered from wind on three sides by the ridge, and protected from view by willows on the fourth.  Gazing over the willow bushes  gives a commanding view of the tundra below.

Can these be moose beds?

 

 

 

 

I discover feeding sign nearby.  Willow bushes have branches that are snipped off near the ends.  Ryan says this is indicative of moose.

 

 

 

I feel like I’m intruding in a living room after a party has ended.  The guests have departed and all I see are empty chairs and messy plates.

So we push our way through the willows to continue our journey.  And we find more evidence – moose scat!

 

 

This is fresh moose scat!  And the moose was eating wet vegetation.  Compare it to these pictures of dry moose scat I found on a hike several days before.  Here the moose were eating the cambium layer of willow bushes along a creek.

 

 

 

 

Quite by accident, Ryan and I have found a secret moose retreat.

 

Beaver Pond

We continue to bushwack our way from the high ground toward the beaver lodge.  But our journey is not a straight one.  We maneuver around stands of woody shrubs, willows, and other shin-tangle.  But not everything in life should be convenient.  And if we can get close to the beaver’s lodge the effort will be worth it.

The effects of the beaver’s activities begin to be felt.  The river that winds through the tundra no longer respects clear boundaries.

We steal silently around the edge of the pond.  It’s unlikely the beaver is active during the day.  But there’s always a chance.

 

 

 

 

Beaver Dam

Ahead is the beaver dam.  If it’s solid enough, Ryan thinks we can use it to bridge the pond to get a close look at the lodge.

 

 

 

We continue to work our way around to the dam.  Frequently, we’re walking through ankle deep floodwaters.

 

 

 

When we finally reach the dam, I’m astounded by what we find.  The dam is as broad as a sidewalk, and as solid underfoot as concrete.   I’ve heard that beavers are nature’s engineers, but this is a revelation!

 

 

 

 

I can only imagine the Tireless effort it took to construct this edifice.  The dam is symmetric, described by two graceful arcs that meet at a spillway.  Water plunges over the dam and drops about six feet to the tundra below.  I’ve stood before the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building.  But this beaver dam blows my mind!

 

 

 

 

We walk onto the dam to see if it can provide safe passage across the pond.  But find the beaver has outsmarted us!  The dam thins at the spillway, it’s too precarious to risk our weight on it.  We’ll have to double back and try to cross upstream.  But this robs us of our remaining time.  This is as close to the lodge as we can get.  We’ll need to head home.

 

Beaver Lodge

With great reverence for the engineer, Ryan and I head back upstream to find a crossing.  From there we’ll climb to the road and hike back to the van.

Our path takes us back toward the beaver’s lodge.  I’m grateful for the singular chance to see it.  The lodge looks as though it belongs to the land.  And I snap a few photos as the pond reflects the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

Caribou Surprise

I’m reluctant to leave Grassy Pass.  We were so lucky to see the ten grizzly bears, the moose beds, and the beaver’s lodge.

But Denali has another surprise for us.  As we drive down the road, two female caribou, spooked by something we can’t see, race across the tundra and leap onto the road in front of our van.

At that point they stop.  Maybe they feel the road is a talisman against whatever spooked them.  When they notice our van, they come to investigate in typical caribou style.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Business Opportunity?

As a postscript, I should mention another interesting incident that happened during our trip.  Ryan and I found our river crossing.  But it was a significant leap to get across.  I nail the landing and step forward in self-congratulation.  As I do, my foot catches on a willow root and spill face-down on the muddy bank.  In desperation, I extend my left leg to try to keep upright.  And as I do, I hear the ripping of a seam.  I split my rain pants right down the center!

In truth, the tear must have started earlier.  In the photo where I discuss my attire, you can see my green fleece poking through a small hole in my rain pants.

But my ill-timed yoga was a death knell for my rain pants.  Another casualty of Wild Alaska.

But fashion is fickle, and you never know what hikers will be wearing tomorrow.  So remember, you saw it here first.  I invented crotchless rain pants!  🙂

 

 

 

More Adventure to come

This hike is only a part of my trip to Denali National Park.  As I complete each article, I will add a link below.

Denali – Train to the Wilderness

Denali — Tundra Hike

Denali — Bush Flight

Denali – Kettle Ponds and Caribou

 

References

1. Denali National Park: The Complete Visitors Guide to the Mountain, Wildlife, and Year-Round Outdoor Activities, Bill Sherwonit
2. How not to get attacked by a bear
3. Wildflowers of Denali National Park, Verna E. Pratt
4. Gentian

 

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