Muskies and Bears

 

A light rain tapping the WeatherPort tent muffled out the morning start-up of the generator. Jenny, the camp cook, fires the diesel engine around 4:30 to energize the kitchen tent and begin preparing breakfast for twenty. I usually wake up around six o'clock when camp begins to stir with chatter and activity. But in this unseasonably cold summer, the warmth of my extra-wide, flannel-lined sleeping bag and the small oil-burning Geo-stove made for a nice sleep -- too nice because I didn't wake up until nearly eight o'clock. My plan for a leisure, hearty camp breakfast before heading back to Nome was suddenly abandoned for a scramble to gulp a cup of coffee, grab a fistful of granola bars, pack my sleeping bag, and attempt a record-breaking drive to get the rented Ford SUV turned-in by 10:00 a.m. Around quarter past eight, I put the pedal to the metal.

 

The narrow, curvy track was muddy and slick following the Fox River allowing no leisure time for the habitual scanning for wildlife. I sped by the area where I had spotted grizzlies on the last trip with barely a glance. The road turns to flattened gray gravel ascending the hills toward Skookum Pass. Its curves become wider allowing for greater speed and I was able to hit 60 mph on some stretches. It was on one such high-speed, valley curve that I spotted the musk-oxen.

 

What to do? I was pressed for time and had already seen those beasts at a much closer distance at the White Alice Site outside Nome. But here they were, another small herd huddled high on Skookum Pass.

I cursed the critters for not being around on any of my previous trips when I had plenty of time to stop and observe them. I finally let the Ford coast to a gradual stop right on the road. The pick-up truck that I had passed was already miles behind, probably still slinging mud. A bitter cold wind nearly blew me into the valley as I stood outside to zoom in on them. After a couple of quick photos which hardly seemed worth the effort by lacking sharpness, I resumed my speed and cranked up the heater.

 

Racing down the coastal side of the hills, I glanced at my pocket watch to see that I should reach Nome by ten. Then where the road arced to intercept the east fork of the Solomon River, I reckoned speed allowed for the element of surprise as I spotted a grizzly on the opposite bank.

Without hesitation I pulled to a stop. The bear quickly scrambled toward hill-side willows. While I watched its movement, another appeared from behind a shallow bluff to follow. I couldn't quite tell if they were cubs or adults - they appeared slightly bigger, and darker, than those I had seen last week on the Fox. The bluff blocked any view to see if there were others. The two were scattered at a safe distance and in an obvious retreating mode, but time prevented walking down there. My Alaska wildlife spotting was finally on a roll. Maybe they all knew that it was my last drive out here and just wanted to let me know that they had been around all the while.