Grizzly Man

I watched “The Grizzly Man” last night.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0427312/
It is about Timothy Treadwell (and Amie Huguenard), who were mauled to death by Grizzly Bears in Alaska in October of 2003.

Having spent a week camping on Admiralty Island (back in 1987) with my friend John, and some estimated 1,500 coastal brown bears, I was in awe of both the footage this man got of these animals, and also the reckless arrogance that eventually led to he and his girlfriend being dismantled by the claws and teeth of one of the world’s most powerful animals.
http://www.fs.fed.us/r10/tongass/districts/admiralty/

Treadwell filled his videos with his disdain for the government, the National Park Service, and humanity in general. I fully understand his feelings, since I am also of the opinion that more must be done to protect our natural environment and the animals therein. It is also true that Treadwell obviously wasn’t as wonderfully wise as he gave himself credit for being. The federal rules he blatantly disregarded, are in place for the protection of both the wildlife, and the people who visit.

Treadwell spoke of some kinship he had with the bears, and how anyone else who tried to live in their proximity would die, and he alone “loved them enough” so that he could survive. I have spent a week, camping in the wilderness amidst the densest population of brown bears on the planet. During this time, though I carried a sidearm (giving me a 50/50 chance in the event of an attack), I never forgot that these animals were merely tolerating me. I would not approach them. While I now feel a kinship with them, I am not so foolish as to think that I can walk up to, and touch a wild bear. Such arrogance would (if practiced enough), ultimately lead to an unpleasant death – just as it did for Tim and Amie.

Had I brought video equipment into the Alaskan bush, I would have likely recorded my feelings of being in awe of how beautiful the land, water and animals were, and how easily they could cause my death. Respect, not arrogance was my feeling at that time. I was a mere, insignificant human, interloping on the property of smart, powerful, naturally armed predators that were approaching 1,000 lbs. (453.59 kilograms).