I had a super Alaskan experience today.
I biked the Coastal Trail today. Nothing new there; Kincaid Park (where the trail starts and home to a single track trail and miles of running trails) is one of our default running spots, and the Coastal Trail is a lovely 22 mile bike ride round trip. We've done a 30-something mile loop that follows the trail down and along Ship Creek, and there are several iterations of the Coastal Trail that don't involve doing it as an out and back.
But I digress.
I was biking along at a reasonable pace, enjoying the glorious weather, dodging walkers, other cyclists, and tourists. There's been a bit of bear activity in Kincaid Park, complete with signs warning trail users to be alert. I've never been on the Coastal Trail without seeing a moose. This is Alaska, after all. When I went running earlier this week, I found myself doing variations of a little loop that I managed to run three times before I gave up and doubled back. This wouldn't have been a big deal, except I ran past the same, still slightly warm pile of bear scat three times.
So as I'm biking today, I pass a cyclist going the other direction. "Black bear," he says, as we sped past each other.
I kept an eye peeled, and lo and behold a mile or so later I get a glimpse of a bear off the side of the trail near the bluff.
A few more miles and an oncoming cyclist slows down as we approached so I could hear his clearly stated warning of "Bear."
Any other place, the casual warning of upcoming wildlife, especially bears, since they've been especially feisty this year, might cause a change of plan. But here, a casual warning is considered sufficient notice. I made a point of singing to myself at top volume for the rest of my ride when there weren't other people near me. I figure that way, if I got mauled it's just because the bear really didn't like my choice in music.
Gotta love Alaska.
