Sue Halliwell conquers her fear of meeting a grizzly and takes delight in an easy-going campervan tour of the mountains, lakes, forests and wildlife of Alaska's Kenai Peninsula.
I was terrified I would meet a grizzly, and terrified I wouldn't.
I'm a wildlife nut; my problem was the National Geographic article about grizzly bear attacks that I read in the doctor's waiting room on my pre-trip visit.
As it transpired, I would come only metres from a big male grizzly on Alaska's Kenai Peninsula. While I remained blissfully unaware of him, he certainly knew I was there and, unlike the merciless killers I read about, hid in the trees until I'd gone.
We'd come to the Kenai Peninsula for its proud mountains, stately glaciers, rivers feeding bounteous lakes, unending forest and wildlife. Extending about 240km south of Anchorage, it held everything Alaskan that my partner John and I had dreamed of seeing, and we wanted to see it all.
Our Alaskan adventure started with one of the popular cruise/rail/bus packages up the Inside Passage from Vancouver to Skagway, northwest to Fairbanks and then south to Anchorage, taking in the Denali National Park, where we saw our first grizzlies — a mother feeding cubs — through the windows of the park bus.
Organised tour over, we now wanted to see Alaska's wild places and creatures at close quarters and our own pace.
With 10 days to do it, our research showed the Kenai Peninsula was the nearest and best option, and a campervan the cheapest, most convenient way to travel and sleep.
Alaska is designed for campervans, or recreational vehicles (RVs) as they call them in the States. The roads are vehicle-friendly, there are highway pull-overs for freedom camping every few kilometres, and inexpensive pay campgrounds abound.
Although we were travelling in August at the height of the Alaskan summer and salmon run, we had no trouble securing a well-appointed parking place at any of these overnight spots. Some had toilet facilities and water, but most didn't, so being self-contained was important. Having an onboard loo was also necessary in bear country — which was everywhere — at least for me. I took the bear warning signs so seriously I wouldn't walk to the toilets after dark.
My bear fear significantly compromised my early Kenai experience and I wish I had known then what I learned later. I set out on many a trail before going weak at the knees and turning back. Still, I yearned to see one.
We spent our first night in a pull-over outside the pretty settlement of Hope, at the top of the Kenai Peninsula. We looked for belugas and picked up tips from locals fishing for sockeye salmon along the estuary.
From Hope we drove the scenic road south to the fishing and ferry centre of Seward at the bottom of the peninsula. Seward was saved from drab and ordinary only by its magnificent sea and mountain setting. It is this visitors come to see, ourselves included, having pre-booked a glacier and wildlife boat trip online.
We saw a massive glacier calve up close, sea otters by the dozen, orca, puffins, seals and sea lions. The only animal we were sad to miss was a humpback whale, although we had seen dozens of them and a breathtaking bubble net feeding frenzy as part of the Inside Passage cruise.
Two nights at Seward and we headed north again, stopping first at Exit Glacier just outside the city. Here we trekked through fragrant pine and beech forest to the face of one of the Kenai's more accessible glaciers.
While John decided to go further, I braved walking the couple of kilometres back to the van on my own, despite the bear warnings.
The authorities caution not to walk alone in bear country, however, the number of other tourists around meant I was unlikely to meet one.
There are two main highways on the Kenai: the one we were on and the one we would turn west on to later that day, heading for Cooper Landing, Sterling and Homer. Here the wild adventure would really begin as we followed the Kenai River with its dozens of lakes and marshes in our RV, able to enjoy or bypass each as we chose.
Lake Kelly was our pick for that night, the scenery so jaw-dropping that I agreed to join John on the trail around it, at least for part of the way.
But after I kept up a loud and nervous prattle to ward off waiting bears, John eventually suggested it might be best for me to go back to the van, which I gladly did. John returned an hour later without a claw mark and revelling in the experience.
It took another two days to reach Homer, on the lower corner of the peninsula, stopping often along the way to admire the stunning mountain chains on both sides of Cook Inlet — named for the Captain Cook of Alaskan, as well as New Zealand, history.
By the time we reached Homer we were mighty impressed with the scenery, but this delightful place took scenic to a new level. With its sweeping coastline, flower-filled gardens, colourful boat sheds and the statuesque Kenai Mountains framing the lot, it was easy to spend days here exploring and fishing. We also had our first run-in with a moose on the road, thankfully without casualty.
A number of bear-watching tours start at Homer, all crossing Cook Inlet to wilderness on the other side, mostly by plane. I liked the idea of having a guide between us and the bears, but these tours were well beyond our budget.
However, in the wild and ancient forest of the Captain Cook State Recreation Area on the northwest corner of the peninsula we met an Alaskan couple who told us we could see bears feeding on salmon from the safety of the road on a bend in the Kenai River about 10km before Cooper Landing. This was the answer to our prayers.
Some days later we found the bend, a pull-over to park in and a hitch-hiker all in the same place. The man thumbing a lift was a local so we asked him where we could see the bears.
"Down there," he drawled, pointing to a forest clearing on the river below, "but there aren't any here yet, and believe me I'd know if they'd arrived."
We were disappointed, but decided to walk down to the river anyway. John spotted a bald eagle's nest downriver and headed off to photograph it. Secure in the knowledge there were no bears around, I luxuriated on the sunny river bank until, desperate for a wee and with the van keys in John's pocket, I was forced to walk into the forest. Comfortable again, I went back to the warm rocks of the river's edge to wait for John.
He took his time, so I was surprised to see the hitch-hiker still there on our return to the van.
"You are not going to believe this," the man said excitedly as we approached him. "Just after you went down to the river a young male grizzly ran across the road just 20m away, followed by a big male I guess was chasing him off his territory."
Apparently, the big guy lumbered back through the trees towards the river clearing at which I sat, no doubt to finish off the fresh, half-eaten salmon John now told us he'd discovered on the river bank during his photography excursion.
So, without knowing it, I had come metres from a sizeable grizzly, possibly even providing him with my unclothed rump as a target. He chose not to challenge me for ownership of his river bank and lunch, and I can only thank providence for that.
The journey back to Anchorage via delightful Skilak Lake, the grand and graceful Portage Glacier and the attractive ski resort town of Alyeska, now became far more enjoyable.
I happily walked every gorgeous trail, still taking the advice on bear warning signs, but not letting fear hinder my enjoyment of the wild Alaska I had come so far, and waited so long, to see.
Our enjoyment of wild Alaska was made much easier with the freedom of a campervan. We loved being able to immerse ourselves in Alaskan nature every night and for as much of the day as we wanted. At no time did we feel unsafe or find the natives unfriendly.
Well, "bearly" any — and it turned out much of that existed only in my imagination.
GETTING THERE
helloworld has a Fly & Cruise Alaska deal from $4099pp twin share. Price includes return flights to San Francisco and a 10-night Alaska cruise onboard Grand Princess.
Viking’s cruise brings Europe to your balcony..