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