Helicopter lifting away after unloading the mountain of gear and supplies.





A view of the cabin from the very frozen lake, looking north. As usual, these photos are taken on the finest of days.




A view of the cabin looking to the east.

(Click on any Image to see a higher resolution version)

I arrived at the cabin on May 11th and this entry was written about a week before I could send it due to my problems with the computer data hookup to the satellite. Due to my limited knowledge of such things it took me that long to solve. Luckily I eventually found a toll free satellite phone connection to a help-desk in Newfoundland Canada.

I arrived on May 11th between snow squalls to a very white world. The helicopter pilot shook his head as we came over the last pass when he saw what was ahead, but it opened up just at the right time to let us down to the lake and he landed close beside the cabin (something they can only do if there is eight feet of snow). Today, two days later, there is drifting snow from a strong SW wind and it is minus 2º Celsius. The lake and the creek are deep under snow and ice. The only water I will have for some time yet will be coming from melting snow on the stove. Maureen was clever not to come this early in the season. She tells me of the unprecedented number of wild flowers back in southern Alberta. It feels like it will be a long time here before flowers bloom.

Only three bears, all big males, have shown themselves so far. They seem to have come over the mountain and were on the move. I have an uncharacteristic feeling of inhospitableness towards them this spring because in the past there has been a male predating on cubs and therefore if he is still around he could be a possible threat to Biscuit and her cubs. She seems to be cleverly still deep in her den somewhere. My goal was to get here before they were out and it appears that I have done that. There are no females about yet it seems.

When I arrived, one thing troubled me. During the last few years, we lock our cabin and it has been left alone, probably because we have learned to leave nothing in it and pilots know it is not worth stopping. Another reason is that rangers now patrol from their cabin ten miles west of here.

When I arrived my empty 45 gallon stove kerosene barrel was missing. Each fall I detach it from the fuel line, take off the stand and put it in the shed. I do this because I don't want to leave fuel in it and an empty barrel would blow off the stand. The filter shutoff valve assembly that I left screwed into the barrel had been carefully removed and placed on a shelf and some sections of spare stove pipe we do leave in the shed have been assembled, used, then put back - a strange mixture of theft, care and returning. My guess is that when the snow melts I will find evidence of a tent camp made last fall near by and the barrel made into a wood burning stove. The nagging question is, what were the people doing here after I left?

I have a theory that it might have been a famous Russian photographer and bear person who knows about our comings and goings. I write about this man in Grizzly Heart. If so, it was the first time our agreement with the preserve has been broken - maybe without their knowing. Preserve officials, in the past have generously respected the need that our study bears' only human experiences should be controlled by us. This is very important because one of the primary premises I have been testing is that if you know what a grizzly's experience with humans has been, you can predict what his or her behavior towards humans will be.

For the past eight years at Kambalnoye Lake all the bears have come to know that our presence in their midst in no way interferes with their normal needs to survive. (Normal is an important word here because it should be clear that augmenting their needs by letting them get your food is hindrance). Over the years I have simplified a statement of what it takes to be safe around bears down to simply saying never be a deliberate nuisance to them. It is interesting how wonderful they are to be with once they understand your intentions are peaceful and respectful.

Like so often during our years here, I can only now hope for the best when it comes to these sorts of things. At least this photographer theory is a much more pleasant possibility to sit through storms thinking about than is a poacher theory. An other unpleasant result of the missing barrel was that my way of getting fuel to the stove was made very complicated. My normal procedure is that I easily lift the empty barrel onto the stand, connect the gravity feed line to the stove once it is in place, then transfer some kerosene into the tank with a pump and a gerry can. When you are alone, it helps to have these things all well planned in advance. As it was, I was faced with the messy prospect of emptying out one of my full barrel so I could lift it or find a way to get a full one onto the stand. I eventually built a snow ramp which I let freeze as it got colder in the evening. Near dark, with much struggle, I was able to roll the barrel over from where it was unloaded off the helicopter, through the deep snow and up the ramp onto the stand.

The cabin had a lot of snow on the bed, counter and floor that had been driven through pinhole size openings by gale force winds during the winter. Sometime this spring it had melted then refrozen and was now solid ice that had to be slowly chipped away. Normally it has all melted before we get here. These struggles the last couple days made me wish I had been more faithful this winter with my workout program.

-Charlie