Knowing that we would be in Alaska for Amy's 40th birthday had me thinking about the perfect gift. She loves travel, photography and the outdoors, and I have heard her say that taking a picture of a bear catching a salmon would be a fantastic experience. After looking at several options we settled on Brooks Falls when the reds (Sockeye) would be running and the bears would be fishing.
After a short flight to King Salmon we boarded the DeHavilland Otter for Brooks Falls. This vintage aircraft bumped through the gusty winds over the multitude of lakes and rolling mountains of Katmai until it cruised into Brooks lake and up to the beach where the lodge and campground are located. After a short session with the NP Rangers about etiquette in bear country we headed to the campground... enclosed by an electric fence! We set up our tent, ate a quick dinner at the Brooks Falls Lodge, and headed toward Upper Brooks Falls.
Almost immediately we started spotting the local brown bears. We learned that if you see a ranger walking down a trail talking to his/her radio while peering into the woods there was a bear nearby. The beach was like a bear highway. The first obstacle was to get across the lower bridge. Rangers are posted on each side and open and close the bridge as the bears move through the area. Our first hike up the trail was with a man from Poland, one of a host of nationalities visiting this remote but world-class destination. Being told to make noise while hiking we bargained with our new friend to sing his national anthem and we would sing ours.
The upper falls did not disappoint. No less than a dozen bears at a time were fishing at the falls. The platform offered up-close viewing of the bears as they competed for the best fishing spot. The fighting sounded a lot like roar of sea lions. Over the next two days we would make this hike four times seeking to get the photo Amy hoped for. After talking with a few of the seasoned photographers she got the technique down. On the second day it happened. She captured the image and with tears in her eyes she said "I got it" without even checking the photo. Sure enough. After reviewing the photo, she had.
After seeing the swarm of reds in the river at the lower bridge and watching the bears catching them with ease, I turned my thoughts to renting a rod and catching a red of my own. It was quite a game. Fish while looking in all directions... reel in and move away from the oncoming bears. The craziest, but most productive fishing was at what the gal in the Trading Post called the "Meat Hole" just below the bridge. The name held true. I knew it would be interesting after I helped a woman unhook a fish as a bear streamed
toward us from across the river. After the bears cleared I hooked one and was playing it when it was announced that a bear was headed toward me again from across the river. I pointed the rod tip at the fish and walked away expecting the fish to break off. It didn't. It followed me up the bank. I quickly unhooked the fish, killed it and ran up onto the lower viewing platform. The bear was not too far behind and spent the next few minutes sniffing all around the platform for his lunch.Needless to say this was an experience of a lifetime. A big thank you to Grandma and Papa for taking care of Jackson and Asa back at home.
