What It Was Like to Be Charged by an Alaskan Brown Bear

Twenty seasons of guiding in the Alaskan tundra, on rivers that fill with salmon and trout every summer, meant bears were a regular part of my day. The first few years were intimidating. At times, they were downright terrifying.

What Defines a Bear Encounter

I’ve had hundreds of bear encounters, but simply seeing a bear doesn’t count as one. Raft down Moraine Creek in Katmai National Park, and you might see 100 bears in a day. Those don't automatically count as a bear encounter.

Eight brown bears gather along a rocky riverbank in southwest Alaska while feeding and interacting near the water. — The river banks in SW Alaska become crowded with bears during the salmon spawn. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

A bear feeding on salmon across the river is a sighting. A bear walking past camp without looking your way is an experience.

For me, an encounter begins when the bear notices you. Now you’re part of its decision-making, and what happens next depends on how both of you respond.

Not Something You Can Learn in a Classroom

When I decided to become a guide, I knew how to fish. I knew how to teach people, and I knew how to put them on fish. What I didn’t know was how to live and work around one of North America’s most dangerous land predators. That was something beyond my experience.

A large Alaskan brown bear stands in shallow water while chewing a salmon. — The scarred face, the massive body, the large canines. For a young guide still learning the ropes, this made for some uncomfortable moments. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

My first noteworthy lesson came during my fifth season, when a brown bear charged two clients and me on a small creek.

In 20 years, I was charged twice. It is not a common occurrence. Plenty of guides go their entire careers without it ever happening.

Fishing a Small Creek

We were fishing a tributary in southwest Alaska that we called Shinglegash. It was small enough creek to fish by walking and wading, and it held plenty of rainbow trout, including some big ones.

An angler holds a large wild rainbow trout caught while fly fishing a river in Alaska. — Big rainbows can hang out in small creeks. It is my favorite type of water to fly-fish with mouse patterns. A big trout will hide up under log jams and cut banks, looking to ambush a mouse swimming by. | Photo provided by Ken Baldwin

I love fishing small water. Fighting big wild rainbows in tight quarters is adrenaline-spiking. But those same small creeks have a downside.

To Close for Comfort

The brush and trees grow right to the waterline, the bends are tight, and walking them can feel like moving through a tunnel. A bear could come around the next bend, or step out of the brush, and be on top of you before you have time to react.

An Alaskan brown bear steps over fallen logs beneath autumn-colored trees. — On the smaller creeks, a bear can show up where you least expect it. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

Letting My Guard Down in Bear Country

We had finished fishing and were walking back toward the main river, talking and cutting it up. We rounded a bend and saw a brown bear about 100 yards downstream.

It was a smaller bear—maybe 400 pounds—standing beside a sandbar and eating a salmon. It hadn’t noticed us yet.

An Alaskan brown bear holds a bright red sockeye salmon in shallow water while feeding. — When the salmon are in the river, the bear's main focus is to fatten up for its winter hibernation. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

“Let’s keep walking, but slow it down,” I told the guys. “We can get closer and watch him eat.”

At about 40 yards, we stopped and enjoyed a live version of Planet Earth.

Then brilliant me had an idea.

A Photo Opportunity

“Why don’t you guys stand between me and the bear? Leave a gap so I can get a photo of you with the bear in the background.”

Two anglers posing for a photo as an Alaskan brown bear stands behind them. — The calm before the storm - I thought it would be a good idea to take a photo with their cell phone so they could go home with a great memory. Boy, did they. | photo by Ken Baldwin

They got into position, and as I looked through the camera, I realized the bear was no longer eating. It had turned toward us.

In moments like that, my instincts can override my stupidity.

“Guys, get behind me. Right now.”

They heard it in my voice and moved. I handed them my net and fly rod, pulled a .50-caliber revolver from its chest holster, cocked the hammer, and held it in a ready position.

Learning On the Spot

Nobody had taught me this, but I figured I should keep talking in a relaxed, calm voice, detailing what was going on. If I appeared calm, my anglers would stay calm.

“The bear sees us, and he’s not happy about it,” I said. “He thinks we are going to take his food. Everything is cool. He’s still a long way off.”

An Alaskan brown bear grips a bright red sockeye salmon while standing in shallow water. — Don't poke the bear. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

Saying “Everything is cool” while holding a firearm in a ready position was a little contradictory. But I wasn’t panicking, so neither were they.

The Bear Charged

The bear lunged forward and started coming at us.

It covered the first ten yards fast. I purposely fired into the water just in front of it. We still had enough distance between us that I knew I could fire again if I had to.

A large Alaskan brown bear charges through shallow water as rain falls around it. — An Alaskan brown bear moving with intent. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

A .50-caliber firearm is a very loud gun. I hoped the sound and the splash of water near its face would frighten the bear.

It did, and the bear stopped.

The Coast Was Not Clear

I don’t know if I’ve added this next part in the retelling, but I swear it happened this way. The bear didn’t run off scared. It held its ground, then reluctantly turned away from us and walked towards the creek bank. Before it walked off, it looked over its shoulder, looking more pissed than frightened, then slowly walked out of the creek.

I told my clients to stay on my right as we continued downstream, giving the left side, where the bear had disappeared, as much room as possible.

When we reached the spot directly across from where it had left the creek, I stopped to make sure it was gone. The brush was thick, and I didn't want any surprises.

The Bear Wasn’t Gone

An Alaskan brown bear peers through thick grass and brush beside a tree. — The bear did not want to leave its freshly killed salmon. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

The bear left the creek, but not the area.

It’s funny what goes through your mind in the middle of a dangerous situation. I was impressed with the bear, a little amused, and spooked all at once.

I didn't tell the guys, I just told them to keep stepping.

WTF?

That night at the lodge, while lying in bed, I replayed the encounter again and again. What had I done right? What had I missed? What could I have done better? And WTF was I doing out here in Alaska hanging out with bears in the first place?

Over the next few days, I talked with more experienced guides and with the lodge owner, who had spent 40 years around bears.

Here is a summation of what I learned from the encounter, and what others said that made sense.

An Alaskan brown bear holds a salmon in its paws and tears into it with its teeth. — This bear knew I was there, but was focused on feeding and didn't feel threatened by us. | photo by Ken Baldwin

- Keep Your Head on a Swivel, Always

It was late in the day; we were almost back to the boat, and I had let myself relax. I was in a celebratory mode. I should have stayed in "My head on a swivel" mode.

An older guide said it this way. "Treat bear country the way you treat a firearm: as if it is always loaded, even when it's not."

- A Bear and Its Food

I didn't take seriously the bear's instinct to protect its food source, and how our posturing was giving off vibes of "Maybe I'm going to take your food away." The bear was standing in the middle of the creek, minding its own business and eating a salmon. I shouldn't have gotten so close.

An Alaskan brown bear bites into a bright red sockeye salmon beside the river. — Younger bears will sometimes play with the salmon while it is feeding. Reminds me of a feral cat I had that used to do the same thing with mice. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

- I Was Looking But I Wasn’t Seeing

I didn't, or couldn't, see the smaller signs. I only saw the obvious change: one moment the bear was eating, and the next it was facing us. I needed to pick up on the smaller details. When did it stop eating? Had it looked over its shoulder at us first? Had it yawned—a possible sign of agitation? There were probably warning signs I didn’t yet know how to see.

An Alaskan brown bear stands in a shallow river holding a salmon between its front paws. — When a bear stops eating and looks your way, pay closer attention. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

The best thing to come out of the encounter is that it happened. I know that sounds crazy, but now I know what it looks like, how it feels, and that I can stay calm when it matters. I am better for having gone through it.

- You Have To See a Bear for What It Is, Not What’s in Your Brain

The bear that was in my brain when I first took my guiding job in Alaska was a terrifying beast of an animal. All fangs and claws, drooling and coming at me full speed, with the intention of killing me.

Two Alaskan brown bears face each other with their mouths open on a rocky tundra ridge. — The mother bear on the left fiercely fends off a larger, aggressive male. When it comes to protecting their cubs, mother bears will take on bears bigger and stronger than they are. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

That is the bear of stories and movies.

A Social, Intelligent and Often Playful Animal

What I learned from being around brown bears every day is that the worst stories are few and far between. Those moments do happen, and you have to be ready for them. But they are rare. The everyday reality was that most bears weren’t interested in us. They didn’t see us as food. Alaska gave them plenty to eat. The bears just wanted to catch salmon, protect their cubs, and be left alone.

An Alaskan brown bear mother walks through tall grass with her two cubs following behind. — As thick as this mama bear is, ain't no one messing with her cubs. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

An Alaskan brown bear carries a sockeye salmon through shallow river water. — Give them a wide berth, and they will go about their business of catching salmon. | Photo by Ken Baldwin

And if you do that, you can witness some truly unbelievable moments. You stop seeing the animal everyone warns you about, and you will see an animal that is playful, smart, social, funny, caring with its cubs, and one heck of a salmon catcher. You will see the animal that is there. Just don’t try to go up and touch it. ~KB

Follow me on Instagram @KenBaldwin7. I share the stories behind my articles, photography from my fly-fishing adventures, gear I’m testing, wildlife encounters, and the outdoor places that inspire them.

"The gods do not deduct from man’s allotted span the hours spent in fishing.” - Herbert Hoover

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