This story takes place in Sitka, Alaska, circa mid-90’s when I was stationed there in the Coast Guard. Mark Guillory was a fellow Sitka pilot whom I had known from us being stationed together in Clearwater, Florida, for a few years. He had transferred to Sitka a couple of years before I had and was well-established there.
The best way I can describe Mark at that time was that he was a mountain man. Very outdoorsy, very physically strong, probably 6’2” or 3”. (He was also known as Teflon Man for all the times he had escaped getting in trouble for his many escapades in the Coast Guard. Many a rule was created as a result of Mark Guillory’s antics. But those are stories for another time.) Mark was single, but had his own house in Sitka, and it was stocked with every kind of outdoor equipment you could imagine. He was very generous with his gear, ready to loan it to anyone who asked, but to keep it from “walking off”, he had spray-painted florescent orange paint on every bit of it. Like a cat, I guess, it was his way of spraying his possessions!
A number of times Mark had either asked me along on some of his outdoor escapades or recommended one or two to me. Two of these will be future anecdotes, one of which I came very close to dying alone in the wilderness, probably never to be found, and the other in which I just thought I would die in the wilderness. But those, too, are stories for another day.
This story is about the time Mark asked if I would like to go deer hunting with him. I really wasn’t into hunting, and the deer in Sitka were the size of large rabbits (strangely for Alaska, where everything is usually huge), but it would be a new experience, and I knew I could learn from Mark, so on the appointed day we drove to the end of the road, grabbed two rifles out of the trunk, and headed off into the woods.
It was a pleasant very-early spring day, and this part of the Tongass National Forest was more cleared-out than most, meaning that it was easy to see far and walk around–perfect for hunting. We proceeded into the wilderness probably a mile or two, not seeing any deer or deer sign. I was starting to get a little bit worried about being able to find our way back out since there were no trails, and we hadn’t marked our route, when suddenly we both heard the noise.
The best way to describe it is a combination of snoring and a growl. We both froze, with our guns at the ready and looked around carefully. The sound was definitely coming from somewhere in front of us, but we couldn’t see what was making it. It was a very deep sound, and I immediately thought bear!
Afterall, this was the land of the huge brown (grizzly) bear, some of which could top 1500 lbs! I remembered the previous spring when the salmon had come late, and the bears, fresh from hibernation and looking for another source of food, had started wandering into town. One night, I was sitting in the second-story living room of my rental home when I heard a noise in the driveway. I went out onto the balcony which overlooked the dark driveway and saw that someone had driven a Volkswager up to the house. I had never even seen a Volkswagen in Sitka…who could it be? And then it moved. Sideways. And I realized that it was not a car, it was a huge bear! Getting into our trash can. I was very glad I had not gone out the front door to check on the noise!
So, back to the woods with Mark, while I had never encountered a bear sleeping (or hybernating), this is exactly what I imagined one would sound like. I asked Mark in a whisper what he thought, and he also thought it might be a sleeping bear. Now, any two saner people would have just turned around and left it alone. After all, the guns we had were likely not powerful enough to stop a charging grizzly, and shooting a bear was a big no-no in Alaska anyway unless your life was in obvious danger. That meant not instigating the bear in any way and avoiding encounters. And if you couldn’t avoid one, you had better be backed into a corner before you shoot. So, by continuing forward (as we did), we were sort of asking for trouble in one way or another. Curiosity killed the cat.
As we crept quietly and carefully forward, I could imagine a bear all tucked up under a log or in a burrow or wherever it is that grizzlies hybernate. Something like that would be awesome to see, as long as we didn’t wake up the bear! The sound was definitely getting louder as we moved first 10 yards further, then 20 yards. But, it was also very difficult to pinpoint. We must be very close! The sound was definitely coming from somewhere around us, but we couldn’t figure out exactly where. It was weird.
Up just ahead was a huge fallen tree, and it seemed like the sound might be coming from the other side of it. Mark and I looked at each other, and he pointed at the same tree. I nodded, and we both stealthily crept around opposite sides of the huge log to rendezvous on the far side. As I carefully stepped onto and then over the log, I could see Mark coming around the other side with his gun leveled at the log. “Great,” I thought, “this bear’s going to come charging out, and we’ll get caught in a cross fire, shooting each other!”
But, as we both came together on the front side of the log and looked underneath it….nothing! Huh? We could still hear the breathing, and it was very close. WTF!? As we both paused and listened very carefully (which for me wasn’t easy as my pulse was pounding in my head), at the same time we both realized the sound was coming from…above us? We looked up and there it was!
No, not a bear. Not any animal.
It was two trees rubbing together in the wind.
We both swore that we’d never tell a soul about the “hibernating bear” incident.