My favorite story (not a personal experience) was one shared by a
state wildlife biologist in Sitka, Alaska. Before I hiked up the
Indian River, which empties into Sitka harbor, I wanted to know what
to expect along the river--particularly bears. The biologist said that
there were no salmon runs in progress and that the berry season had
passed. So, I felt comfortable starting my hike. But, before I left,
he shared a personal experience that seems as fresh today as it was
when he told it. He said that he had been kneeling at water's edge,
collecting water samples, when he caught a strong whiff of rotten
fish. Without waiting a moment, looking around, or standing up, he
crawled out into the water, swam quickly out to the center, and then
turned around--only to see a huge brown bear standing where he had
been kneeling. Apparently, the bear had literally been breathing down
his neck.
With that experience in mind, I hiked very cautiously up the river.
(BTW, the hike along that river was extraordinarily beautiful.)
Roger
--- In Kevin Colver <> wrote:
>
> It's great to hear these stories. Makes me wonder about the danger
> we all expose ourselves to. Maybe we're a bit crazy but we love it. =
> Keep the stories coming.
> Kevin Colver
>
>
>
> On Jan 7, 2008, at 6:12 AM, Greg Simmons wrote:
>
> > I'm not sure if I've posted this here before or not, but the recent
> > talk about tigers makes it seem appropriate now.
> >
> > A couple of years ago I was recording nature sounds in Chitwan
> > National Park, Nepal. I was walking through the Sal forest with a
> > guide and one other person. After walking for about an hour we found
> > some fresh tiger tracks and decided to follow them.
> >
> > We'd been following the tracks for quite a while, thinking the tiger
> > was long gone, although we noticed that the tracks doubled back on us
> > at a small creek, where the animal had obviously taken a drink. Along
> > the way I heard a drongo calling from a tree up above, amid a lot of
> > other birdsong, so I decided to stop and record it. I set up the
> > equipment, then the three of us moved about 50m from the microphones
> > and stood there quietly for 10 minutes or so.
> >
> > With the recording finished, I moved to pack up the equipment. This
> > involved spending a couple of minutes squatting on the ground while
> > packing up cables and so on. When I stood up I heard a very deep and
> > low growl, as if someone had recorded a cat purring and slowed it down
> > to 25% or so, coming from somewhere in the undergrowth near me. I
> > slowly turned around to see my guide and the other person mouthing the
> > words 'tiger, tiger' and pointing to a spot less than 10m away from
> > me. From where I stood I could not see it, but I could see the
> > undergrowth moving.
> >
> > I stood there frozen for a while, wondering how effective my
> > lightweight Manfrotto 001 Nanostand and Nagra V would be as a
> > defensive weapon (yeah, right!). After what seemed like an eternity,
> > a bunch of jungle chickens flew up from the undergrowth about 20m
> > away, as the tiger passed by before leaving us altogether.
> >
> > I have since learnt that squatting in the jungle is not a good
> > strategy. A human being standing up is not a recognisable food source
> > to the average tiger; however, a human being squatting in the
> > undergrowth looks like a nice fat monkey - surely one of the tiger's
> > favourite foods! I have made many more recordings in the same jungle,
> > but now I avoid squatting down as much as possible.
> >
> > And on this topic... About one week ago I was recording early morning
> > sounds on a rooftop in Varanasi (India), when a troop of marauding
> > macaques (I counted 17) made their way across the rooftops and onto
> > *my* rooftop. These macaques are very curious and aggressive, getting
> > into everything and grabbing anything that's not screwed down. So I
> > hurriedly packed up my equipment and prepared to head back inside
> > until they had gone. As I descended the outdoor staircase (all
> > concrete construction) I was confronted by a female adult macaque. My
> > experiences with macaques in Borneo and Nepal suggests that they will
> > usually shy away if I pull the appropriate 'warning face' (kind of
> > baring your teeth and opening your eyes very wide). But not this time
> > - she pulled the face, I pulled it back, and then she lunged at me. I
> > swung my daypack at her, knocking her off the railing and sending her
> > scurrying. Unfortunately, the strike deflected the bag and sent it
> > crashing into the concrete wall, cracking the Nagra V's perspex lid.
> > Oh well...
> >
> >
>
>
>
>
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