I woke early as usual, climbing out on my hands and knees into the wet grass and standing to see a white cloud above the water.
We'd had no bears, or at least hadn't known of it, and that was good. I walked down the road and to the waters edge, surveying the early morning sight.
Kaschka and Fanda were stirring and shortly after were out of the tent, Fanda retrieving his drone from the big rear case on their bike. I watched as he flew it out and back and remarked that I'd wanted to bring one sometime but could never justify the hassle.
We'd agreed to ride together to Haines Junction but Kim wanted to head back to the bear watching area we'd almost ridden into the night before.
On the way out we headed back to the state park. Kim was in front and as we reached the stop line, she mistakenly thought we were riding through and rode slowly out to center of the bear crossing area and then stopped, waiting for us. I yelled at her to turn around quickly or go on to the other side, since she stopped right at the pile of fish guts on the road where the grizzlies had been eating. She slowly maneuvered the bike around and rode back while I was freaked out about it. We got off the bikes and about 5 minutes later the grizzly sow and two cubs walked into the road directly where she’d stopped. Thank God she hadn't been there when they came out.
We watched as the mother and cubs stood in the road, eyeing the observers at each end for a bit before wandering out to the river and the foot bridge where park rangers counted salmon. The sow jumped in and began catching fish, tearing off the heads and passing them to the cubs who ate a bite or two and waited for another.
It was finally time to move on, but fascinating seeing our first grizzly on the trip. Can't say I saw them as cute and fuzzy.
We hadn't eaten breakfast and were out of food so a stop at the IGA grocery in Haines was our priority, devouring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the sidewalk after shopping.
The eventual crossing back into Canada took a very long time, which was surprising.
Our goal for the day was to make Destruction Bay and camping for the night. The road north to Haines Junction was another scenic joyride. At one point in the scenery we saw a white van pulled off to the left and as Fanda and Kim rode past they were looking left at the van. I happened to look to the right at the same moment and saw a grizzly standing on it's hind legs, turning it's head to watch each bike pass. It was such an odd thing for my Texas brain, it took a moment to realize it was indeed a big grizzly watching us go by. It just didn’t compute for some reason, again most likely my Texas mental wiring, but obviously the van on the left had stopped to observe the bear. I’ll never forget watching the bears head following each bike like he was observing a tennis match.
We stopped at a pullout for Kluane Park for a snack and butt break, as well as scampering into the brush to get some water from the stream to filter for our water bottles.
Kluane Lake on the way to Destruction Bay was stunning. The light was getting low and the colors were popping as we rode along the lakeside.
The Congdon Campground came up, our goal for the night but there were signs saying no tent camping due to bear danger. Fanda saw a free campsite listed on an app on his phone in Burwash Landing about 30 miles further so we continued on along the lake.
The day was getting late when we arrived in Burwash Landing, but could find no sign of the camping area. As we sat on the roadside a pickup pulled up out of the little airport and stopped. Kim asked the driver if he knew of a free place to camp and he said there was an abandoned campground nearby, but he didn't know where. A phone call later, he shouted to us to follow him and we rode back into an area with some rundown houses, eventually ending up at a junkyard of sorts. We all looked at each other as the truck drove away. We weren't really interested in sleeping in a junkyard.
A moment later the truck came backing up and we realized we were still supposed to be following him. Eventually he turned onto a deep gravel road and it wound down into, yes, an abandoned campground replete with tables, bear proof trash cans, fire rings and outhouses, all empty and overgrown with weeds and brush. It was actually creepy and Kim wondered out loud why it had been abandoned... having seen the previous warning signs of no tent camping at the earlier park, of course I assumed it was due to bears.
The driver piled out and I asked if bears were an issue, to which he replied that indeed there were bears but whether they'd have an issue with us was the real question. He was a bush pilot and said he'd never been to the campground before, having heard it existed only.
We walked down a road to the lake, absolutely wide open and beautiful in a 360 degree pan. There was a large open area several acres wide down to the water. We walked back up from the lake and picked a spot to set up tents. The pilot left us with a hard sell to come fly with him the next day for $250 each per hour… ain’t gonna happen.
Once the truck was gone, the silence and loneliness fell, all of us feeling a bit uncomfortable but smiling anyway. A fire was the priority and we were out of water as well, so I climbed on the bike and rode down to the lake alone to get water for the filter.
Standing alone on the lakeside was quite an experience.
After soaking the silence and the view in a bit, I filled the water bag and rode back to the campsite, Fanda having walked down until he could see me to make sure I was okay. The gravity water filter bag filled and filtering, we started looking for firewood in earnest. as the light faded. There was a creepiness about the abandoned place as we explored. I finally found some long wood poles and brought one back, Fanda grabbing another. Everyone laughed at the sight, but I produced a wire saw from my survival kit and we took turns cutting logs for the fire until it finally snapped from fatigue.
Mongo want fire. Mongo find wood.
Dinner consisted of ramen noodles mixed with canned crab meat and a can of beans we all shared. Kaschka said she'd found a pile of poo nearby and wanted to see if we could identify it. It was indeed large but we decided it was moose and not bear as it was large and consisted mainly of vegetation. After the meal Fanda wanted to go fishing with his collapsible pole and I pulled out mine, all of them bursting out with laughter at the size of the tiny cheap chinese one I'd bought for $7 on eBay. We rode the bikes back down and did some casting for fun. The light was beautiful and the scenery astounding.
Oddly enough in the dead silence Kim's phone rang, scaring us and we found out we had 4G in the middle of nowhere. Crazy!
We returned to the campsite and stuck the 4 foot long poles vertically into the fire pit, while Fanda got the fire going. As we sat in the darkness around the fire, Fanda and Kaschka asked about bears and we all got a chill at the lonely spot we were in. I suggested standing another 16 foot pole vertically in the fire so that it would burn all night.
In the darkness, the fire burned slowly down until we crawled into our tents for the night. About 15 minutes passed until suddenly there was the unbelievably loud and blood curdling howl of a wolf... and it couldn't have been more than 30 or 40 yards away.
I've never heard a wolf in the wild, only the distant call in movies, and never expected to hear one so close. It was terrifying at a visceral level and so loud and powerful it was shocking. In the dark I could hear Kaschka loudly whispering to Fanda in their tent. We lay there for a few moments, me expecting to hear snarls and ripping of tents at any time by a pack of wolves responding to the call. I could hear Kim breathing next to me in the long, focused silence.
Time passed and no further sounds or howls came. Kim fell asleep but I could not, as tense as a board, the adrenaline leaving me wide awake for much of the night listening to every sound, real and imagined. That sound and power of the wolf’s howl so close will never leave me, touching a deep part of my humanity never known before. As I’ve discovered in my travels, the closer you are to danger, perceived or real, the more alive one feels.
As the night passed, I heard the sound of heavy waves on the beach and wondered if the winds had changed and a storm was brewing…