Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
— 2 —
Exit, Pursued by a Bear
"OKAY, FOLKS, YOU WANT
to be real quiet now,” Gary Porter said in a low voice.
Since a grizzly sow and two one-year old cubs were at that moment ten feet away, I
wasn't about to argue.
The sow was in the lead, rolling up the narrow path, dragging the backs of her paws
along the ground, long, sharp claws hitting first when she put them down again. Her dark
brown fur was thick and wet. Her head, lowered beneath powerful shoulders, was con-
stantly in motion, swiveling between the fish in the creek and the fourteen of us reclining in
camp chairs on the bank. Her eyes were little and mean. She didn't look the least bit
cuddly.
Bringing up the rear, looking wet, cold and hungry, the cubs were major whiners. It was
one long continuous moan, Mom, I'm hungry, Mom, feed me, Mom, I'm starving, Mom,
do I have to stay starved, Mo-oom!
Mom glanced our way. I felt like I'd wandered into the middle of Jurassic Park, and tried
not to look like protein.
Gary Porter is the owner and operator of Bald Mountain Air in Homer, Alaska, and was
our pilot that day, of a DeHaviland Single Otter, which, Gary said with a grin, used to be-
long to the Nicaraguan Army. With that grin, you never know if he's telling the truth or try-
ing you on, but it's a good story and if you're like me, that's partly why you fly with him.
It's guys like Gary who make topic like
Fire and Ice
possible.
Gary's been flying since he was twelve years old, and flying bear watchers to Katmai
National Park for the last seven. Going bear-watching with Gary is not like going bear-
watching on McNeil River; you don't have to try for a permit in the Parks Service lottery
and maybe you win and maybe you don't (and maybe you get to go and maybe you don't).
