Brum…Brum….Brrrruum…went the roar of the engine on our ATV as Benjamin and I sped along a small 4 wheeler trail. We were out on our June camp trip at the Alaska Range. The skies were crystal clear, the large warm sun shone down upon a vivid green landscape, the wind blew pleasantly keeping the ravenous mosquitoes at bay….life was good and it had been a perfect day.
Suddenly, an enormous brown mass of some kind of animal rose up beside us as we sped by it! As it leaped away from the trail we slowed down to a stop and looked behind us. I gasped while Benjamin took a deep breath and exclaimed, “Mommy, it’s a big bull bison!” Fifty yards away now, he stood broad side, head low staring at us. “Oh my gosh, he’s HUGE” sputtered from my mouth. We watched in awe as he lumbered over to a spindly spruce tree about five feet high and proceeded to thrash it back and forth between his spiky, black, shiny horns.
The evening sunlight gleamed off his sleek summer coat and he turned and began walking across the meadow. We wheeled the ATV around and headed back to camp for dinner, pausing as we drove by the bison. He now stood perfectly aligned with the majestic Denali Mountain rising up behind him. With the sunlight glistening off his fur, it was a postcard perfect photograph waiting to happen. It was the money shot alright, and an image of a lifetime to shoot! And me without my camera! I’d broken rule #1 of photography- never leave home without the camera!
After dinner, when the sun lowered in the Alaskan summer sky, the light softened and I returned (with camera in tow) to the area where we’d sighted the big bull- in hopes of finding him again. I spotted him off the trail about 120 yards away grazing intently. Upon hearing me, he abruptly stopped eating, lifted his beastly head and began marching directly toward me! I whipped out my camera and began snapping photos. Denali was no longer in the background since he’d moved locations from my initial viewing, but, the Alaska Range stood proud behind him and the scene was spectacular.
While looking through the viewfinder, his image continued to grow larger and larger with each step. As he continued to approach me, I began to notice my excitement turning to anxiety. He was getting really, really close!
At 40 yards away, I held out my hand and declared in a firm yet calm voice, “STOP!” followed by “That is close enough.” He did just that- but kept glaring at me, then shook his head. Was that a challenge? Then, his tail twitched……was he going to charge? Quickly, I considered if I should start the wheeler and drive off, yet instead words came forth and I offered, “I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want you to hurt me.”
Would he understand the intent of my words?
Seemingly, he did. I noticed his eyes broke their lock on me and he shifted his gaze. His eyes softened and appeared relaxed and dare I say, even gentle. The commanding appearance of his deep, dark head, covered in shaggy fur reminded me of the plush, tawny mane of a lion. A jet black beard, which spilled under his chin, swayed gently in the breeze. He lifted his right hind leg, scratched his flank, then began chewing his cud. His muscle ripped body, all 2,000 lbs of it, gave me the realization of how puny I really am. His 2,000 pounds against my 135 pounds? Not much of a match up….. even with me seated upon the 4 wheeler. He could cross the distance between us in 4 swift leaps and flip me and the wheeler over in no time. In that moment, my gratitude for being alive grew 100 fold.
We stood looking at each for a long, long time. The breeze blew. The sun settled lower in the sky. I watched him. He watched me. I looked at the 1000 shades of green all around us, the mountains rising up behind him, the spruce trees and dwarf willows he stood among and wondered to myself, what things has he seen in his life? Where has he been, where was he born, how many miles have those rounded hooves covered across the land? I would never know and it was time for me to go. I started up my machine and slowly drove home, not wanting to leave that moment in time. He lowered his head and began to graze.
Life is fleeting and fragile. We are here one day and can be gone the next. Make the most out of your life. I will do the same. I love the wilderness and knowing that these large critters roam the earth -capable of easily overpowering us but choosing otherwise. How I wish human nature chose more often to do the the same with it’s own kind.
Alaska Wilderness Mom 