It’s all Teddy Roosevelt’s fault. Historically speaking, bears were considered to be fierce predators to be feared, hunted, and eaten. Tales of derring-do often included encounters with bears. Think Lewis and Clark, think Davy Crockett. But then Teddy Roosevelt came along.

One of the most fascinating Presidents America has ever had, Theodore Roosevelt loved to experience nature. He was an avid hunter, and in 1902, he was on a hunting trip in Mississippi when he was confronted with an interesting situation. After three days of hunting, Roosevelt had not spotted a bear, though others had. Some of the guides decided to help him out, and they tracked a bear with their dogs and managed to tie it to a tree. Wouldn’t you love to see a video of that process? They presented this bear to Roosevelt so that he would have the opportunity to shoot it. He refused to do so, calling it unsportsmanlike.

http://www.theodoreroosevelt.org/site/c.elKSIdOWIiJ8H/b.8684621/k.6632/Real_Teddy_Bear_Story.htm

The newspapers of the day seized on this story as great fodder for their cartoonists. Most of their cartoons showed the bear as a cub rather than the aged bear of reality. The cartoons inspired a shop owner to put two homemade stuffed toy bears in the window of his store, calling them Teddy’s bears, and thus began one of the first national toy fads. Everyone wanted one for their children.

Since that time, every generation has literally embraced teddy bears as their earliest beloved possessions. Including me. I have always loved and been interested in bears, from the time I had a teddy bear, to the first time I visited Yellowstone National Park at the age of seven, to all my visits to zoos, to all the nature documentaries I have watched. I lived in Yellowstone for one whole summer, and I know all the rules for safety in bear country. I know them and I believe them.

But there we were, my husband and I, with another couple and our pilot, lazing on a sandbar between the river and the sea, on a sunny summer day in Katmai National Park in Alaska. We had forded the river in our hip waders, and we were surrounded by breath-taking glacier-covered mountains. That would have been worth the trip, even if the grizzly bears hadn’t been watching us from their resting places on the sandbar. There was a female bear and her nearly grown cub resting nearest to our crossing point, and two other single bears sleeping in separate areas further out. Our pilot, who had flown us to this remote beach from Homer, Alaska, told us the bears would probably sleep till the tide was just right for fish to start running. We knelt just behind a rise to wait and watch.

The mother bear glanced at us in an offhand way. Seemingly, she went back to dozing while we huddled together about 75 yards away, clicking away with our cameras. The other two bears paid little attention to us and one of them eventually rose and waded into the water, studying it carefully. He made a sudden feint and lunged in, coming up with a fish in his jaws. He carried his catch onto the sand and devoured it. The seagulls were there before he finished and made noisy work of cleaning up.

The pilot asked if we’d like to move to the top of a rise that was a bit closer. We all voted yes and crept forward. The mother bear turned her head and looked at us, but didn’t move otherwise. The other two adult bears started fishing more seriously and we watched them. The cub woke up, walked to its mother, and pestered her to nurse. She rolled over on her back and let it suckle until the cub was satisfied.

Then they cuddled, nose to nose, paws around each other. What a sight to behold! We gazed in wonder from less than 50 yards away.

We moved closer to the stream and downstream from the mother and cub. The mother bear got up and saw the other two bears fishing successfully, so she decided to try her luck. But she wanted to fish downstream, closer to where the others were catching fish. She looked at us and started walking our way. Our pilot spoke firmly, “Move along bear, just go on by,” and she walked past us, probably not more than ten yards away, with her cub following her.

She plunged into the river and caught a salmon in her jaws. Her cub wanted her to give it up, but she made it settle for the part it wrested from her by fighting for it. The cub returned to the shore and settled down to eat its portion. A raven vied for a share, and they made a game of it, the raven dancing in and out, the cub slapping a paw at the raven.

Then one of the two male bears decided he might be able to steal the cub’s food or maybe that he didn’t like the mother and cub fishing close to his place in the river, and he rushed across the stream towards the cub. The mother splashed her way in between the interloper and her cub and the two adults had a face off. She made clicking, popping noises with her jaw, almost like yawning with her mouth open. She continued until the other bear backed off and gave them a wide berth in the water.

The tide was moving in and the pilot told us we needed to go while we still had enough beach to take off in the small plane. We knew the day had to end, but we all felt blessed that we had been allowed to experience the wonders of this place. I wished a silent benediction to the mother bear and her cub for allowing us to be part of their day.