Bears are creatures of habit, and create trails through Alaska visible as ruts in the earth and marked by scents along the route.
The bears noticed our absence during the pandemic and took the opportunity to throw a party, with some bruins behaving better than others.
Adventure Medical Kits offers a wide variety of ready-made first aid kits targeted to different pursuits and scenarios.
Nick Jans encountered more bears than usual during his three week stay at home out the Haines Highway. And he wasn’t alone.
The Cross-Admiralty Island Canoe Route is a 32-mile hike and paddle across lakes and trails from from Mole Harbor to Angoon.
A wild brown bear forced its way into the Alaska Zoo in Anchorage and killed a 16-year-old alpaca named Caesar.
Alaska’s Senior Editor saw 17 bears at Brooks Falls when she was one of the first visitors to Katmai National Park when it reopened in early August 2020.
Nick Jans shares tales of caribou soup, moose nose, fermented walrus flipper, and other Eskimo foods he’s encountered through years of Inupiaq hospitality.
An adult female bear peers through a dense thicket of cow parsnip. During the summer months, Kodiak turns a lush, vibrant green as thick vegetation carpets the island. Kodiak bears balance their diet with a variety of plants, including grass. Photo by Lisa Hupp. With 1.9-million acres to wander and no portion more than 15 miles from the Pacific, Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge includes some of the most diverse habitat on the planet, covering the southern two-thirds of Kodiak Island, all of Ban and Uganik islands, and a section of Afognak Island. Though notorious for its famed denizen, the Kodiak brown bear, a genetically distinct subspecies of browns/grizzlies, the refuge protects more than just big bruins. Consider that among the lush fjords, valleys, wetlands, and 4,000-foot peaks, more than 1,000 pairs of nesting bald eagles claim the area as their home, along with 250 species of migrating or breeding fish,…
One woman’s stand-off with a persistent grizzly I am drifting off to sleep in my tent in the Ray Mountains, a little-known mountain range north of Fairbanks and south of the Brooks Range. My 12-year-old Australian sheepdog, Blumli, sleeps at my feet. The arctic sun, still above the horizon, casts a soft evening glow on the surrounding peaks. The wilderness is pleasant and peaceful. After a long day’s walk, I drift into sweet slumber, knowing the next 10 days will feed my soul in a way that only wild country can. I don’t know what awakens me, a slight motion from Blumli, or that internal messenger that says, “Wake up, there is a bear 15 feet from your head.” I am not excessively worried. I’ve seen hundreds of bears, and never had anything you would call a bear encounter. Bears, except possibly polar bears, don’t habitually hunt humans. Our troubles…