Saturday, January 12, 2013

Two Articles Available on Amazon Kindle

After spending a few months submitting some of my writing to magazines for publication, I decided instead to publish two of them independently as edocs on Amazon kindle. Night of the Grizzlies, 45 Years Later is the one I most sought to publish but the finished version is too outsized for magazine publication and the subject has too much personal meaning for me to just cut it down to a manageable length. I felt this was the best way to get it out there; continuing to pursue magazine publication could well take until the 50th anniversary! The essay is much more in-depth than my posting about it here and, of all my pieces, it's the one I feel the most pride in.
 
As a bonus to all of you, I've included an additional essay entitled Brown Bears World: Fortress of the Bear that details the triumphs, tragedies, pitfalls, and hardships of saving orphaned cubs in Alaska. The piece is critical of actions taken by the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, which many publications are unwilling to run. For $0.99 you can get them both and the funds will go into the writing and publication of my book Where the Bear Walks: From Fear to Understanding which will be available later in 2013. I also have a short article, A Summer With The Bears, that will run in the July/August issue of Alaska Magazine.
 
Here is the link for the kindle essays: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B04B0KY
 
I greatly appreciate your readership and your support! Thank you!

Monday, December 10, 2012

"Where the Bear Walks" sample chapter

Work on the book is coming along better than expected, though I fear that it may be shorter than I would like. I'm almost finished with chapter six and getting ready to start outlining chapters seven and eight. To tide you over, here is a brief sample chapter from the book. I chose this one because it's an era in bear history that I've never really discussed on the blog. This is the first chapter in a section chronicling the dark history between man and bear. The rest of the book will profile those few individuals whose cutting-edge work is devoted to overturning the old dogmatic beliefs that caused something like this to happen in the first place. Enjoy!


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It’s hard to believe that an estimated 100,000 grizzlies once roamed North America, with roughly 10,000 of those in Southern California alone. From the Mexican Rockies through the Southwestern deserts, from the vast Great Plains to the coastlines of the Pacific Northwest, grizzlies that sometimes topped out over 1,000 pounds prowled the landscape. These were the days before the westward expansion, before the arrival of the white man and the European, when the West was still wild and untamed.
    It’s telling that the conflict between the two species did not really begin until the white man came, bringing with them the American penchant to dominate and subdue all that stands before them. The Native Americans lived alongside the grizzly with few problems. In fact, many tribes revered the bears, giving them names such as “grandfather” and “elder brother”, due to the many characteristics they share with man. To some, they were gods and creation legends that revolved around the grizzly were told and passed down (they viewed the black bear as cowardly due to its timid nature and did not consider them real bears), while some believed that women could morph into bears. Others believed their ancestors were reincarnated as bears and treated them with great reverence and respect. The tribes that hunted the grizzly did so as a rite of passage or a religious experience, a task not to be taken lightly.
    The long-standing peace between man and bear ended abruptly in 1804 when Lewis and Clark began their famous expedition west. Having no knowledge of the great bears, the men often surprised them at close range, foolishly chased them, or otherwise provoked the animals into attacking. The explorers were quick to use their weapons, marveling at how difficult the animals were to kill. Some bears fell under no less than eight rifle balls, prompting the men to write of the unnaturally aggressive temperament of the beasts. In truth, that extreme aggression was caused by the ineffectiveness of the primitive weapons to do little more than cause maddening pain.
    There is no doubt that Lewis and Clark contributed heavily to science (the discovery of the grizzly, ironically, is considered to be their greatest*), and to the birth of our civilization, but there can also be no doubt that they were the first to paint the grizzly bear in an unfavorable light. When their published journals became popular in 1825, the image of the grizzly as North America’s most fearsome beast was burned into the minds of the public. As told around thousands of campfires and printed in as many books, Lewis and Clark’s misunderstanding of the grizzly’s powerful build, curious nature, and hair-trigger defensiveness became so further embellished that, when the westward expansion finally began, along with it came an assortment of guns and traps suitable enough to take on this sinister brute.
    The killing began in California. With the westward flow of humanity, cattle inevitably followed, soon becoming a big business. As early as the late 1830’s, large tracts of prime grizzly habitat were being converted to pasture and farmland. With the advent of large-caliber weapons and repeating rifles, and the fear that cattle would make easy pickings for the large bears, ranchers and farmers hired professional hunters to exterminate grizzlies on their land and some of these hunters were rumored to have killed as many as 200 bears in one year’s time.
    Those grizzlies unlucky enough to fall before the bullets were taken alive for use in public grudge matches against 2,000 pound Spanish bulls. More often than not, the bears would actually shy away from the bulls, attempting to dig a hole to hide in. But when the bull struck and blood was drawn, the confrontation usually ended quickly. The battered and bleeding grizzly would then be subjected to round after round of the fights until it finally succumbed to death, to the great delight of bloodthirsty spectators.
    Eventually public outcry against bear/bull fights finally put an end to the barbaric sport, but there was never to be any such outcry against the mass slaughter that was occurring and the killing continued until every last grizzly had been exterminated from the state of California.
    In the late 1870’s, large cattle ranches laid claim to open grasslands in the West and immediately ran into wildlife problems. While true predators like wolves and mountain lions were responsible for most of the stock killing, it was the grizzly that got most of the blame. Bears are actually very inefficient predators and usually resort to scavenging and feeding on carcasses left behind by other animals. When a rancher would go in search of a cattle carcass, he would find a grizzly feeding on it and naturally assume the bear must have been the killer. As it was in California, professional hunters were hired to shoot grizzlies on sight and some of these men were unspeakably cruel in their practices.

 

*It was actually Spanish explorers in the 1500’s who should be given this credit.

 
    James “Bear” Moore was one of the most deranged. His face half mangled from a bear he had wounded, he specialized in trapping grizzlies inside a small cabin structure and then would wreak his own personal vengeance by impaling them for hours with white-hot iron rods. When he tired of the torture, he would shoot the hapless animals. Others would corner grizzlies in culvert traps, douse them with gasoline, and light them on fire.
    As the wildlife war raged on, a more effective solution was devised: strychnine. Believed to be a quick and painless death, this slow-acting poison actually causes severe muscle spasms and it can take up to half an hour for its victim to finally die. Stocked in mercantile stores throughout the West, this lethal concoction would be the grizzly’s final downfall. Even the newly-created U.S. Forest Service, more concerned with appeasing ranchers than with protecting wildlife, joined in on the poisoning campaign. Then the U.S. Congress created PARC, the Predatory Animal and Rodent Control Division of the Department of Agriculture, and set in motion a “final solution” for predator control. Massive doses of strychnine and strychnine-laced beef were spread across the countryside by hundreds of government agents.
    And no one said a word. No government employees or Forest Service rangers or ranchers or civilians ever questioned what was being done. They did their jobs and reaped the monetary rewards for their silence.
    The last grizzly in Texas fell in 1890, then in South Dakota in 1897. The grizzly was declared extinct in Mexico in 1920, then California – once one of the greatest strongholds for the great bear – in 1922. Utah’s last was killed in 1923, Oregon’s in 1931 and Washington’s in 1936. New Mexico lost its last in 1933 and Arizona in 1939. The final holdout was a female in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado, killed in 1952. A hundred thousand animals had been reduced to only a few hundred.
    The remaining survivors had fled into the high mountains of Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks in an attempt to escape the bounties and the bloodshed and today they are the last enclaves of the North American grizzly outside of Canada and Alaska. The establishment of those parks is probably all that stopped the holocaust from following them until there were none left. Now those survivors are waiting. Waiting for a change. Waiting for a day when they’re once again free to roam, when these last strongholds are not all they have left.
    As previously stated, the legend of the killer bear is still with us. The days of Lewis and Clark have left us with that inaccurate and misinformed idea and we have yet to let go of it. To this day, fierce battles are waged over the future of the grizzly and what the bear is actually worth. There are a disturbing number who feel that the mass extermination should be re-implemented and should continue until the species is extinct. Fortunately, their voices are not the loudest and there are even more individuals who are standing on the frontlines every day, trying to save what’s left of these bears and trying to change the world’s perception of them.
    With the eradication of the plains grizzly, the roaring gunfire that echoed throughout the western states finally faded to a grim silence. But silence was meant to be broken. It was misguided fear of the grizzly that nearly destroyed him and, in the decades that followed, the bear was completely taken for granted in Glacier National Park. Garbage dumps were publicly opened for bear feeding shows, trash was dumped in culverts and ditches behind alpine chalets and, running underneath it all, was the equally misguided belief that the great bears were not really dangerous…


Copyright © 2012 Chris Nunnally Where the Bear Walks: From Fear to Understanding

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

"Where The Bear Walks" the book is officially underway!

I've posted before my plans to adapt this blog into book form. Now that I've returned home from Glacier National Park, I feel that the time is right and I've officially begun. I had tried once or twice to write the beginnings of an introduction only to find that the opening is the most difficult part. I've now written a handful of pages in half an hour and the gates have finally been opened. Words and ideas are bursting forth now. The introduction, which I expected to be the hardest part, is now looking like a piece of cake. I still expect it to be a slow process, but at least the journey is finally underway.
 
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My final days in Glacier proved to be of some interest. The black bear that I mentioned in the previous post returned while I was sitting outside my cabin one evening. he came down out of the woods, crossed the driveway, looked back at me for a moment, then hobbled on towards the river, a noticeable limp in one of his front legs. Word got around very quickly about the injury, but no one knew what had caused it. The bear seemed to disappear until just before I left town. I saw him that last night at the river. He appeared at dusk, still limping, swam across the water, and hobbled off into the woods, snapping sticks the whole way (I cannot stress the importance of snapping sticks while hiking. Every bear that I've heard in the woods has done this as they walked to warn other bears that a larger animal is approaching. This is a much more effective technique for recreationists than simply talking or yelling).
 
As incredible as the encounters with the black bear were, I longed to see a grizzly or, as the Indians called them, "the real bear", noting that the timid nature of the black bear doesn't even lump it into the same category. While camping at Many Glacier in late September, I got my wish. We had observed early that morning a young black and silver grizzly feeding on a hillside through binoculars. A hike to spectacular Iceberg Lake later that morning brought us to the crest of that same hillside and, waiting in the trail about a mile in and 100 yards or so away, was that very same grizzly. He had been walking the trail headed in our direction until he saw us coming, then he seemed to become undecisive as to what he should do. We could easily see that the bear's mouth was hanging open like a dog's, a clear body language signal that indicated complete relaxation. He was not at all stressed to encounter us. We waited in the trail for a long time, watching him as he foraged for wild flowers. He started moving further up the trail and we moved with him, keeping him in sight but maintaining that 100 yard distance. Other hikers showed up and we all just stood, watching quietly. It was late in the season after all when bears are forced to scramble for calories to get them through hibernation, so we didn't want to push him away if he had found a viable food source. Finally, he seemed to sense that we wanted to move on and he moved off the trail and down the slope into thick grass, allowing us to pass only thirty feet away. We didn't see him again, but we did stand six feet away from a mother deer and her young and were pleasantly surprised to find the lake still very much full of ice, making it a very good trip all around!
 
Back to work on the book for now. I'll keep providing updates and offer a link to the book on this site when it's finished.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

The Night of the Grizzlies, 45 Years Later

Michele Koons (top) and Julie Helgeson.

This August 12th and 13th, as planned, I visited both Granite Park Chalet and Trout Lake for the anniversary of the fatalities that occurred that long ago fateful night. While I can't say that there were any stunning revelations as to why I've felt such a strong connection to both victims, visiting the sites has given me a sense of deep peace and personal closure on the matter and, in a strange sense of irony, the evening of August 14th ended with my very first wild bear encounter, capping off what was one of the best hiking/wilderness experiences I've ever had.

Early on August 12th, I set off following the same path that Julie Helgeson and Roy Ducat took on the same day in 1967, along the Highline Trail to Granite Park Chalet. Despite all the hours I've clocked hiking and exploring in Alaska, the Highline, with its sweeping panoramic views, was the best hike I have ever been on and Granite Park Chalet was extraordinary and beautiful. Seated along the alpine country that surrounds the Chalet, with vast mountain vistas rising before me in every direction, I flipped through my paperback copy of Jack Olsen's book and compared some of the black and white photos to the real thing. Obviously the terrain has changed somewhat, but I was able to find some of the locations shown in the book. I did not attempt to locate the old campground where the attack occurred, but instead sat 500 yards above it outside the Chalet taking in the view and the quiet serenity. Before leaving, I stood in the dining room of the Chalet, where Julie ultimately lost her life, easily the most heartbreaking of the two tragedies due to the amount of time that she spent lying alone and wounded in the dark, no doubt wondering if the bear was going to come back for her. As badly as I wanted to stay at the Chalet that night, it is almost always overbooked and getting reservations can be very difficult, so I began making my way down the Loop Trail. I felt a pang of sadness when I caught one final view of the Chalet peeking over the granite hillside and I knew then that I would be back here some day. It's the closest I've found to Heaven on earth.

The journey to Trout Lake on the 13th was not so relaxed. The trail is very narrow, runs through thick, heavy brush in prime grizzly and cougar country, and receives little human traffic. Fortunately there were several visitors that day, perhaps also there for the anniversary, so I decided to cowboy up and make the journey. Despite my initial apprehension about venturing into that area, I found that my fear faded away quickly, replaced by a strange calmness, as I entered the heavily-damaged burn area on the Lake McDonald side of Howe Ridge and a level of heightened awareness came over me that I had never experienced before, despite all the time I've spent in grizzly country. I clapped my hands and called out often as there were many blind corners and thick berry patches along the trail. Occasionally I picked up a large stick and snapped it, sending smaller creatures scattering for cover. The track of a grizzly's hind foot was pressed deep into the mud about halfway up the trail, but the bear that left it was nowhere to be seen. When I reached the Trout Lake side of the ridge, that twinge of nervousness returned. I had moved out of the open burn area which provided no cover from the pounding sun and the blazing 90 degree temperatures and entered a darker, cooler terrain virtually untouched by the fire. If the rest of the park was the bears backyard, this was their living room, though I was more concerned about mountain lions than grizzlies.

After the steep climb over and down Howe Ridge, I arrived at Trout Lake and the famous logjam. Although the campsite has long been closed down and nobody stays the night there anymore, it is very near this area where Michele Koons lost her life, her death more mercifully swift than Julie Helgeson's at Granite Park. I'm only able to guess from that little info where the campsite was but that feels irrelevant compared to just being there. I stand at the shore of the lake, gazing out over the logjam and turquoise waters, Heaven's Peak towering above. The other hikers have disappeared, either back up the ridge or further down the trail to Arrow Lake, and I'm left alone in this peaceful place. This and Granite Park have already become two of my favorite places in Glacier and I think they will remain that way. There are no man-made tributes to Julie and Michele at either of these sites and I don't think there need to be; the stunning beauty of the country and the silence that hangs over it like a blanket is the best memorial anyone could ever have and ensures that their lives will long be remembered. Like Granite Park Chalet, I'm sad to leave Trout Lake but I know I'll return here one day. That night I'm sore and tired from two big trips in as many days, but I feel a sense of peace so deep that it's almost a tangible thing and I can't stop smiling. There is a very strong spirit in those places and it's ready to touch anyone who is receptive to it.

August 14th:

Late in the evening I'm returning home from the Flathead River with a friend and co-worker. Lightning illuminates the western sky in those final minutes before dusk. As we walk off the main road onto the private drive to the employee cabins, we are stopped by the sight of a dark, lumbering shape coming up the drive towards us. We're not terribly concerned; this is the 300 pound black bear that's been foraging in the area for weeks and who has been behaving in a very docile manner during close encounters with people, so we backed away and gave him plenty of room to get out. He crossed the entrance of the drive 50 yards away from us, entered the foliage, and emerged onto the main road, eating berries as he moved in the opposite direction. Just as we started down the gravel path, he ducked back into the foliage and started coming down the slope back to the drive, right toward us. We clapped and announced our presence. He stopped for a moment and then went crashing through the brush. We grabbed our bear spray in case we were being charged. With the increasing darkness, we couldn't see what happened, but the bear seemed to be gone so we continued on to the cabins, bubbling with excitement and chatting up the encounter the whole way. The bear did not, as far as I know, follow us. Kind of ironic in a way, it served as an interesting exclamation point to the previous couple of days.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

The Bears Have Arrived!

It was midnight and I was lying in bed watching a movie on my portable DVD player. The player was casting an eerie blue light across the curtained window over my bed. From outside, I hear sticks snapping as a large animal approaches. Suddenly the animal rears up and I hear claws tap on the glass. I hear it sniffing around and then the claws scrape across the glass as it drops back down. Sticks resume snapping as it walks away. For a time, I lay there paralyzed with terror and then I force myself to cut through the fear and recall all the knowledge I've gained about bears. In the dark, it's easy to imagine the bloodthirsty monster but I know this is just the black bear that's been patrolling the area for several nights and dining on wildflowers near the cabins, occasionally encountering people and reacting with no signs of aggression. I know he has never seen such a strange light at my window and I know his reaction was simply out of curiosity, considering that he lingered at the window only long enough to assess the situation before moving on with disinterest. But it's not easy telling yourself that in the dark, where the monsters and demons lurk, waiting to rend and rip human flesh. The fear of bears: a primal response to an unfairly demonized animal, a response that is often irrational and unnecessary. What the human mind can conjure is often worse than the reality, leaving nothing but the fear itself as your greatest enemy.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

The Glacier Park Bear Situation

One week so far in West Glacier, Montana on the outskirts of Glacier National Park and the bears have already been making headlines. While I have not yet encountered any, many people that I know have. One co-worker has had 11 grizzly encounters so far this summer and others say the bears have been irritable and confrontational due to a shortage of wild huckleberries. In several of these encounters, the ornery bears were discovered in the middle of hiking trails, silently following people on their treks, only to run hurriedly away when spotted. Sounds like simple curiosity to me but is nonetheless very bizarre behavior.

I'm staying in a cabin near the Flathead River, a five minute walk through heavy brush and a few huckleberry bushes. Job duties have occasionally required me to stay late and walk home through this brush in total darkness. I've been sure to carry bear spray and a flashlight and make lots of noise but it still manages to get my heart racing. Now, just recently, a 300 pound black bear has been spotted in the area of the cabins and eating huckleberries on the nearby road, exhibiting no fear of people. Plans are to capture and relocate the bear to an area that is isolated from human use, yet rich in available foods. The good news is that the huckleberries seem to be coming out now, so perhaps these encounters will decrease.

Plans are still in place to hike the Highline Trail to Granite Park Chalet on August 12th. I had originally intended to visit Trout Lake on the 13th but that could happen sooner. While the Highline Trail receives heavy usage, Trout Lake is seldom traversed and is not a place I care to go to alone. More updates soon.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Arizona Attacks and the Face of Bear Management

By now, everyone is no doubt very familiar with the alarming rash of black bear attacks in the mountains of Arizona throughout the month of June. Two of the attacks involved people in tents, another a man in a partially-finished cabin, and the other, most disturbingly, in a condominium parking lot. The offending bears (or what is believed to be the offending bears) were destroyed without prior confirmation that they were responsible for the attacks. This is a shocking number of incidents in such a short period of time and is more similar to the Yellowstone bear attacks of 2010. Those tragedies were caused by the loss of the whitebark pines and the nuts they produce, which are a major source of protein for grizzlies. Could something similar have caused the Arizona attacks?

Jim Paxon, Information Branch Chief for the Arizona Game and Fish Department, told me in an e-mail that the Southwest has been ravaged by extreme drought and that has resulted in a dearth of natural bear foods. So much so that even the normally shy and reclusive black bears have resorted to such drastic measures as tent raiding and bullying. Fortunately, the attacks did not seem to be predatory and were apparently stopped before reaching that level. But with the bears at these critical stages of desperation (and the Yellowstone grizzlies in a similar boat), it's time to seriously re-evaluate some of our bear management techniques and start seriously enforcing that visitors to bear country take the proper precautions. I feel that it should be mandatory for campers to carry and erect electric fences around their campsite and that recreationists who do not keep a clean and orderly site should be asked to pack up and leave. I also feel that hikers should be required to carry at least two cans of bear spray at all times and that proper training on their usage be given by park rangers. Some may dislike the idea of such rules but with the lack of natural food sources, the lack of proper safety techniques will only lead to more injuries and deaths.

Supplemental feeding must also be considered as a viable option. I forwarded some information on the topic to Mr. Paxon and asked him to consider it in the future. To my surprise and delight, he was intrigued by the idea and said that he would share it for consideration among the other bear managers. The only potential problem is that the execution of a feeding program will likely require more manpower than the department is staffed for. Even so, it's exciting to speak to a government bear manager who's actually receptive to the idea and sees the value in it. We need others with that mindset, because the days of sloppy bear management are going to have to come to an end.

Speaking of bad bear management, I posted several months ago about the night of the grizzlies incident and the strange connection I have long felt to the victims of that tragic night. I will soon have the opportunity to spend some time in Glacier National Park and will be there on the 45th anniversary of the attacks. I plan to visit both sites while there and pay my own respects. I'm told by some who work in the park that a large number of people visit the sites each August for the same reason. Most astonishing is the large number of hits I get on this blog due to internet searches related to the incident and the two girls (sometimes almost a dozen per day), so whatever hold that night has on me, I'm certainly not the only one in its grip. I don't know if being there will make that mystery any clearer, but I know it's something I have to do. That experience will be the subject of future writings: an article, blog updates, and a book that I will be starting on later this year. I've tried getting the book underway several times, but I always get the feeling that I should wait...and now I know it's because this experience must come first. Only afterwards will the words be there.