
Living in Bear Country
We rolled into Alaska on the Alcan Highway midsummer of ‘92. My wife, Pam, our nine year old son, Aaron, and I drove our old Ford pickup, pulling our four horse trailer, stuffed to the gills with things we figured we had to have to start our new life in the Alaskan Bush. By early evening we stopped at a small backwoods store to pick up a couple of odds and ends. I saw a little newspaper and grabbed that too, then we found a spot off the highway and set up camp for the night. After eating and settling in by the campfire I picked up the newspaper and started flipping through it to see what was happening in the country we were about to live. After some wandering through the pages an article caught my eye. While I don’t recall the exact wording, the headline said something like, “Woman Killed by Bear.” It certainly got my attention. It appeared a black bear had broken into a remote cabin while the husband and wife were inside. They had no gun or anything for defense. The couple exited the cabin, and the wife went up on the roof while the husband ran for help. By the time he returned, the bear was on the roof and had killed the woman. A tragedy, to say the least. A sobering reality for someone about to take his family into the wilderness. But, what are the odds? And we, while not experienced with grizzly or brown bears, had some experience with black bears. We would certainly not be unprepared, or unarmed. We came from Montana, and had enough firepower to stand off a small army.