I Don’t Jog Anymore

Back in the day my helicopter pilot and I worked all over Southeast Alaska.  I jogged then.  We worked long days but in the land of the midnight sun there was still plenty of daylight to go for a run after work.

The first day we working in Wrangell, Alaska. I went jogging out the dump road.  (Right there, I should have foreseen trouble; the dump road!)  Dark old-growth forests of Sitka Spruce line the dirt road. Ahead I could see the forest lighten up when the road crossed the opening in the canopy where the dump was.  I also saw a black bear crossing the road. She stopped.  I stopped. She calming walked on.  I calmly walked back to town. 

The second day we flew out of a logging camp on Prince of Wales Island.  After work I jogged on the dirt road out of camp.  It was lined by a dark old-growth spruce forest.  I saw another black bear crossing the road.  She stopped.  I stopped.  She continued on and I walked back toward camp.

The third night we spent in Thorne Bay, Alaska.   After work I ran out a Forest Service Road.  It was lined by dark old-growth spruce forests.  No, she-bear crossing the road ahead of me.  Great! Then the little hairs on the back of my neck started standing on end.  Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see a shadow paralleling me through the old-growth.  I continued jogging but peered closer It was a yearling black bear stalking me through the woods.  More dangerous because he doesn’t know any better.  I stopped. Thank God, he did too.  I walked slowly back to town.

I never jogged again

Author – William Moulton