Close encounter of the bear kind

Some days you get bear. Some days the bear gets you. And some days, you’re just lucky.

Grizzly opens wide to snag a salmon from atop Brooks Falls

My bear encounter of the close kind lasted seconds. It ended as fast as it started.

Nothing happened. But it could have been so much worse.

Everyone who visits Brooks Falls in Katmai National Park goes to bear school. There you learn that visitors can encounter bears anywhere at any time.

Tourists are instructed to give bears a wide berth, staying at least 50 yards away. Making noise when walking the trails is encouraged. Running away if one happens upon a bear is heartily discouraged.

Of course, getting between a sow and her cub(s) is definitely to be avoided.

Because of bear activity in the area, early one morning I was the last person across the bridge over an estuary that leads to the Lower River viewing platform en route to the famous falls.

This was no quick closure because a bear was nearby. No one else crossed the bridge for nearly five hours.

Mama leads her three cubs across the Brooks River in search of a salmon snack

When the waiting hordes were finally released, it was time to leave the viewing area at the falls. Large noisy, excited groups passed by as I headed back to the lodge and visitor center area.

Cameras, with the iconic shot of a grizzly snagging a leaping fish from atop the falls, were packed away from the intermittent rain falling that day.



Then just as quickly, there was no else on the trail. Suddenly a juvenile grizzly, what the rangers call a sub-adult, gamboled down a side trail behind me.



The bear was as startled as I was. He (she?) apparently didn’t know about the 50-yard rule, stopping about 30 feet away.

We looked at each other. Before I could even waive my arms or shout “Whoa bear!” the ursine took off, running away from me.

No harm. No foul.

But the youngster could have just as easily come running off the side trail toward me. I could have been five seconds late and we would have collided.

Worse, Mama and a brother or sister could have been trailing behind. Human between sow and cub would have happened in a split second.

It didn’t. I wasn’t a news item — just a happy bear photographer with the photo that was the purpose of the trip.

A trip to Brooks Falls is well worth it. Be sure to visit more than just one day. My first day was so-so. The second magical.

Whatever you do, pay attention to the ranger teaching bear school.

Close encounters of the bear kind are a real possibility.

Tale of the whale

 

 

When it comes to capturing a photo of a breeching whale, I am like the Man of La Mancha — so far it’s been an impossible dream.

But all is not lost. Along the way a couple of memorable shots have made the quest rewarding nonetheless.

This time around it was definitely better to be lucky than good.

Captain Lani of Catamaran Kahanu (www.catamarankahanu.com) out of Port Allen on Kauai’s west coast took us out on a two-hour whale-watching excursion.

There’s a big difference between whale-watching and whale photography. For a two-hour tour, the catamaran was ideal. However, even though it was gorgeous clear day, the boat was good for watching but not very stable for folks with long telephoto lenses — aka me.

It was quickly apparent that a really active whale, willing to breech several times, was going to give me any chance of snapping a memorable photo.

That didn’t happen. Only a couple of whales decided to show themselves. Nothing very close. Nothing for a photography buff with a camera in one hand, holding the rail with another.

Then in an instant it all changed as Captain Lani pulled up behind a whale as I was standing on the side.

Poof. In an instant, the seas calmed. The boat stopped, and the rail was a thing of the past. I was in shooting mode.

Click. Click. Click. The tail came up and the whale was gone.

The preview showed a perfectly centered fluke. Whether it was in focus had to wait until we were back in Port Allen.

Voila. A beautiful humpback whale tale — flukes and all.

A couple of years ago, Capt. John Yeager of Alaska Charters & Adventures took us off the Wrangell Island in southwest Alaska.

A few whales came up for air, but no breeches and no tails. Yeager steered the Timber Wolf back to port.

Suddenly our dull day turned spectacular as we came upon two or three humpbacks bubble feeding right up against the rocks.

The boat was steady and the whales burst from beneath the surface arching on their backs, swallowing the herring hat were corralled by the bubbles.

Denaili rules name game

By Bill Wagner

 

What’s in a name?Over the decades when it comes to Denali, North America’s highest mountain, about the only thing everyone seems to agree on is that its name means "the high one." 

Actually it’s "Deenaalee" to the Koyukon, a Native people of Alaskan Athabaskans.
Native Alaskans have been calling the mountain by that name for thousands of years. It’s definitely a “high one” with a summit elevation of 20,310 feet.
Starting in 1896, it was called Mt. McKinley for reasons that defy any logic. Seems some old prospector liked William McKinley who was running for president.
As history buffs know, McKinley served one term but was assassinated in 1901 just as his second term started, making Theodore Roosevelt president.
McKinley never visited the park. Over the years, folks in Ohio stood firm whenever there was talk of renaming the mountain or the park.
The first chance to correct this misnomer came about 20 years later when several prominent folks pushed to have the peak and the land around it set aside as a national park. Many wanted the park to be called Denali, that sentiment was far from

unanimous. Rather than chance having the designation denied because of a debate on the name, the Denali-ites decided discretion was the better part of valor and went along with naming it Mount McKinley National Park.
The official designation came on Feb. 26, 1917.
Fast forward to 1980 when the Alaska Lands Act not only tripled the park’s size, but also bowed to pressure and hanged its name to Denali National Park.
Still the mountain kept the former president’s name.
Even before the park was enlarged, starting in 1975, Alaska‘s state legislature asked the United States Board on Geographic Names to officially rename the mountain Denali. Alas, congressmen from McKinley's home state of Ohio blocked the request.
If it worked for the folks in Ohio in 1975, why not do it again. They did. For the past four decades, Alaska’s pols introduced the measure only to have Ohio reps knock it down.
But as has happened over and over during President Obama’s tenure in office, the mountain was renamed by going around Congress. U.S. Interior Secretary Sally Jewell, signed a secretarial order that bypassed the legislative branch, granting Alaska's state

representatives wish to have the mountain renamed.
Obama made the announcement on Aug. 30, 2015 while visiting Alaska.
We visited the park for the first time a year later — mostly looking for moose up close and personal.
Of course, a view of the historic mountain would have been nice, but we were on the wrong end of the “30 percent rule.” That rule says just 30 percent of the hundreds of thousands who visit the park, actually get to see the mountain.
Not surprisingly, we ended up in the 70 percent who had to picture the majestic peak hidden behind the clouds.
Cars are allowed to drive on the first 15 miles of the park road. After that only National Park Service buses are permitted.
We passed on the bus ride.
The Bull Moose we spotted was a ways off the road. Light was low and rain drops were falling. Not the best for photos.
Later with sun out, a younger male and lady friend were grazing nearer the road, which made for better photos.

 

Bill Wagner wins 2016 Alaska Bearfest photo contest

Bill Wagner of Redding won the 2016 Alaska Bearfest photo contest held annual in the City of Wrangell in Southeast Alaska.
The winning entry was announced July 31 during the week-long celebration that also features a berry pie contest, marathon, concerts and guest speakers
Wagner’s photo was of an Alaskan coastal brown bear coming up empty after trying to snatch a pink salmon from the waters of Anan Creek.
Bears have been coming to Anan for hundreds of years as the creek swells with several hundred thousand pink salmon coming home to spawn each summer.
The U.S. Forest Service maintains The Anan Wildlife Observatory located 30 miles southeast the of Wrangell, which is on the island of the same name. While on Alaska’s mainland, the Anan Creek is only accessible by boat or float plane.
Anan Creek has the largest run of pink salmon in Southeast Alaska, which in turn attracts both black and brown bears. In addition, the area is a favorite spot for bald eagles, which also feast on the salmon.
It is one of the few places where brown and black bears “fish” for salmon as they bulk up or a winter of hibernating.

Bridal Veil Falls a hidden gem

Bridal Veil Falls is a picturesque gem in the foothills just south of Canada’s Highway 1 outside Chilliwack, B.C. east of Vancouver.
It was billed as being right off the highway. True. And the hike to the falls was little more than one-half mile. Also true. Alas, it was pretty much straight up.
The hike was well worth it.
The falls cascade some 200 feet over smooth rock, creating the effect of a veil.
The area was designated as a Provincial Park in 1965. Before that, the falls were used to generate electricity in the early 1900s for the Bridal Falls Chalet. According to the park’s Web site, the area is where Popkum, an ancient village, was located with records going back to the 1700s. Popkum is a First Nations word meaning “puff ball,” a plant that grows in the area.
The park is located on the south side of the Fraser River, 16 km east of Chilliwack. Take Exit 135 off Highway 1 and follow the signs. The nearest communities, towns and cities are Bridal Falls and Chilliwack.

Grant's rise started at Fort Donelson

By Bill Wagner

Auspicious is not the definition for the North’s initial efforts at the outset of the Civil War in 1861 into 1862.

President Abraham Lincoln quickly discovered to his dismay that leadership was lacking. As the Union forces suffered setbacks at the hands of the Rebels, Lincoln tried to find a leader to stem the tide.

Winfield Scott, George McClellan, Don Carlos Buell and Henry Halleck all came up short.

One of Fort Donelsopn's "big" guns overlooks the Cumberland River

The outlook was bleak when an unknown general out in the West (Tennessee in those days) started winning battles, making a name for himself, and in the process changed the history of the United States.

Ulysses Grant (the S came later) proved to be the man Lincoln needed to lead the Union army.

Grant began his ascent along the Cumberland and Tennessee rivers at the then little-known sites of Fort Henry and Fort Donelson.

“The soldiers and sailors who fought here, on both sides, were volunteers who did so because they were fighting for what they believed in, and those reasons are numerous,” said Doug Richardson, chief of resource education and visitor services at Fort Donelson.

“Soldiers walked, slept, fought, suffered, and died on this land, a major battle in this most important war that created who we are as Americans today,” he said.

Fort Henry on the Tennessee River fell to a Union Gunboat attack on Feb. 6, 1862, but 2,500 rebel soldiers scrambled away 12 miles to Fort Donelson on the Cumberland River before Grant’s troops could slog their way to the action.

Militarily, Fort Donelson was a much better spot for the Confederates. They had eight 32-pound seacoast artillery pieces and several other big guns to control river access. They fortified an outer defense line and waited.

Grant was slow to leave Fort Henry, and then his 15,000 troops were hampered by the weather and soggy ground as they plodded toward Donelson.

Thanks to the Confederates concentrated efforts to fortify their position, Grant’s troops were able to advance unopposed and encircle the fort.  The battle began on Valentine’s Day 1862. This time the Confederates held their own against Union gunboats, but were no match for Grant’s force that grew as reinforcements continued to arrive.

Fearing a total defeat and capture, Rebel generals John Floyd, Gideon Pillow and Simon Buckner, the southerners massed their troops on the Union’s right flank in an attempt to break out and escape to Nashville.

The rebels were actually in the process of making this all work when they were inexplicably ordered back to their original defensive positions.

Pillow and Floyd turned over command to Buckner, took a couple thousand troops and high-tailed it for Nashville. Other Rebels went with Lt. Col. Nathan Bedford Forrest.

However the bulk of the southern forces 5,000 men, were left in an untenable position. Buckner asked Grant for terms of surrender.

The Answer:  “No terms except an unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted.” Buckner was none too happy, but in the end, he had no choice but to give up.

The capture of the two forts was the first major victory for the North. A new – and much needed – hero materialized — Ulysses “Unconditional Surrender” Grant.

“Our visitor center receives over 40,000 visitors per year. When you include those folks, plus those who come to walk trails, run, nature-watch, picnic, visit the National Cemetery, it adds into the hundreds of thousands,” said Richardson.

Richardson is in his 23rd year with the NPS, arriving at Fort Donelson in September 2010 as part of a career goal to work at a national park where he could further study and understand Ulysses S. Grant.

For more information on Fort Donelson, visit www.nps.gov\fodo

Moose hunt ends in success in Anchorage's Kincaid Park

The long hunt for a moose photo in the wild is over — sort of — thanks to Jack at www.anchorage.net/visit-anchorage, who pointed us to Kincaid Park in Anchorage.

The 1,500 acre park in western Anchorage backs up to the Knik and Tunagarin arms of the Cook Inlet on two sides and the Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport. 

It’s not exactly the wilderness or the wide open spaces, but moose travel through the park on a regular basis and some actually reside there.

The park has trails for hiking in the summer and skiing in the winter.

Originally it was used as a missile storing site during the height of the Cold War in 1950s. Eventually, Anchorage got the land around 1980 and created the park. Still, visitors can see the concrete missile silos that are now used for storage of more mundane items.

Over the years, we’ve seen moose in the distance and have captured a few shots of cows, a bull moose has been elusive.

We’ve been traveling to Alaska for more than decade, spending more than a few hours on the Stikine River and in the waters southeast of Wrangell.

Despite all that time, a bull moose sighting was not in the cards.

Kincaid Park was an answer. Early on a drizzly morning we had just entered the heart of the park when a moose of the male variety strolled across the road to find a better spot to munch on the foliage.

He nibbled, I shot and voila! Bull moose checked off the animal photos bucket list.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t be keeping an eye out for one of his really big cousins.