Okay maybe it wasn't this bad...

This morning, while attempting to appear busy at the office, Jake was telling my father and me about the outing he had with his friend Clint. They drove down to the Russian River, infamous for being one of the most red salmon populated rivers, and hiked to the falls where you can see salmon jumping through rapids and over rocks to continue on their journey of death. Jake continued to rant about what a wonderful time he had until we decided working wasn't all it was cracked up to be...isn't that the main reason people become self-employed? To slack off on a whim? We packed the car up and took of towards the Kenai Peninsula for a day on the river. Fast forward three and a half hours later, we were experiencing all the success we had dreamt about...meaning Jake and Dad had limited (aka caught 3 salmon), and I only had one left to catch before we were done for the day. As I ventured out mid-river, the boys began to clean the fish and pack them for the hike back out. And, keeping with the trend we'd enjoyed all afternoon, the first cast resulted in a huge salmon hooked. Because I tend to get overly excited when I catch fish, I was making a lot of noise cheering myself on while Jake and Dad continued to coach me to the shore to beach my prize. Suddenly, I heard Jake, in a low cautioned voice, say a dirty word.

As I turned around to follow Jake's eyes behind me, I came face to face with a brown bear, 20 feet upriver from me, entering the water. As I continued to inch towards the shore, both Jake and Dad stepped in between me and my new furry friend. Making an effort to scare it off, they both were waving all their extremities and yelling at the top of their lungs. And because I am obscenely ignorant in situations like this, I continued to fight with the salmon to get it on shore and bring our tally to 12.

Oh yes...and did I mention that this sow had two cubs? And that she was inching closer every second while keeping her eye on what she saw as a delicious free meal? (The meal being my fish and us being her only obstacle)... I just needed to make sure the tension was building appropriately.

Jake quickly realized that her goal was the fighting fish on my line, and instructed me to immediately cut it loose...and so I immediately began tripping over myself in my over sized waders in search of a sharp object as to avoid a sudden and excruciating death. As I cut the line, the bear must have continued coming towards us because it entered Jake's comfort zone, and he made the appropriate decision to shoot a round in the air with his .45.

As the smoke cleared, I saw the sow change directions, step back, and continue giving Jake one hell of a stink eye until she found her cubs and ran off up the hill.

Fearing that we were still in danger, I was trying to rid ourselves of the cursed fish that was still flipping around on the beach by kicking it back into the river. My Dad, an avid salmon eater, saw me trying to free a perfectly good salmon, and knowing we were bear free, started raving like a mad man to keep the fish on the beach. After all, one fish is worth two fillets, and two fillets is good for two salmon dinners. To ensure I wasn't going to continue attempts to free the little fella, Dad grabbed the knife I used to cut the line, picked up the fish, and cut its head off. At least he had his priorities straight.

Happy ending: We limited on salmon and hiked back to the car safely. Also, in light of the recent events, Dad decided it was a good time to learn how to use the bear mace he had been carrying around for protection for the last year. Nothing like a brush with death to make one realize the importance of being prepared.