END OF THE LINE
Brooks River, Katmai National Park, Alaska 2016
This image, and particularly the capturing of this image, solidified my love for wildlife photography and remains one of my favorite moments in the field to date.
The Brooks River Falls in Katmai National Park are home to some of the world's most famous wild bears. This is well known and perhaps even more well documented. From generic desktop screen savers to bus stop advertisements, images of salmon leaping into the open mouths of North America's heavyweight champion are ever-present to the point of desensitization. While these images are certainly exciting, it's no secret that they are overproduced and entirely impersonal.
And it makes sense. During the summer months when the bears fish the falls, wooden boardwalks 20 feet above ground are packed each day with hundreds of camera-toting onlookers. Overzealous park rangers monitor every move, and sadly, this has become a necessity for conserving the spectacle.
But as summer gives way to fall, the crowds thin, the rangers head south, and the fattened bears slow to a pre-hibernation laze, aloof in character and lazily indiscriminate in fish selection. Fall lasts but a few short weeks, providing a small window for proximity and potentially some great encounters.
On a sunny morning in early October I crossed paths with the most impressive bear specimen I've ever seen, fishing about 300 yards downriver from the falls. The popularity of the summer's spectacle isn't all bad, however, as it, and the local salmon fishing camps, have helped establish humans as neutral bystanders to the bears and not a threat nor a food source. It has also helped establish some fantastic and quite perceptive nicknames for the area's biggest bruins. Despite my many safe close encounters with large bears over the years, it doesn't change the fact that this particular boar, aptly named 747, weighed well over 1000 lbs and had moved within 10 feet of where I was positioned. You could hear his every move. The water rushing around his haunches. His effortless bone-crunching chews. He was the boss, and for good reason.
When working on foot with large predators, fear and excitement are always present. Human nature instinctively dictates a physiological reaction of flight - which is not wise, nor possible, when face to face with a bear while in waist-deep water. In situations like these there is no room for panic, only calm respect. As I stayed put, he payed me no attention and casually snatched a dying salmon out of the water. As my shutter began to click, he lifted his head, stared straight into my eyes, and let me know it was time for me to leave. So I did, but not without one of my favorite shots and core-rattling experiences.
AVAILABLE SIZES
LARGE: 56" X 80"
STANDARD: 36" X 56"
AVAILABLE EDITIONS
LARGE: Edition of 14
STANDARD: Edition of 14