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Sounds good to me
Here's my main writing blog (which will lead you to other blogs if you're interested) http://AnnaLWalls.blogspot.com
Here's my website - http://AnnaLWalls.com
Do stop by and maybe leave a comment here or there. They would be much appreciated.

Hi Anna:

How wonderful you live in Alaska.

I have a collection of wildlife poetry many about Alaska though I have never visited there. I have thought of taking an Alaskan cruise but not by myself. I liked your website. I will look at it more tomorrow.

I am just finishing up writing my 23rd western frontier eBook, "A Brothel, A Beauty And a Murderer!"

Hopefully by Friday it will be finished and then a week-end of grammar editing. I hate looking forward to that.

I finally found someone local as a beta reader I would trust. They have been reading parts and have caught things that have escaped me.

As a late Christmas gift I offer you this Alaskan fishing story.

I wrote it 16 years ago and haven't really edited it so you may find mistakes.

But seeing how you live in Alaska I thought you might enjoy the story.

Sincerely,

Raymond

Alaskan Fishing!

     As I surveyed the scene below, the sight made me hesitate. There were twenty, maybe twenty-five grizzlies of all sizes, feeding on the immense salmon run. I could see thousands of salmon, returning to spawn. How ironic, they fight so hard to make it up the shallow river, only to die after spawning. The Copper River salmon  is the finest taste to savor at any restaurant.

     This was my third trip to this magical place, a fisherman's dream. But fishing near hungry bears, with bad tempers leaves one always on edge, always glancing around, fearful. My guide Ernie and I both carried 44 magnum pistols as I followed him down a well-used bear run trail. When we reached the river's edge, huge grizzly tracks led downstream alerted us and other bears of the best feasting area.

     So we headed upstream, putting distance between us and certain death. Bears like the shallows. It's easier for them to see, chase and catch salmon. So we felt safe in a deeper part of the Copper River upstream. We separated about thirty feet as we waded up to our waist. The water was ice cold but the insulated hip wader's helped us stay warm as we laughed and joked as we cast our lines out.

     I was the first to yell, "Fish on" and it became a tug of war as I reeled. Within an hour, between us, we had six salmon all stacked on shore. Hours passed and we saw no bears in our area, so we relaxed and enjoyed fishing. Suddenly, I heard water splashing loudly and I glanced over at Ernie. Running through the water at full speed was a huge grizzly and he was closing in on Ernie.

     His prominent hump on his back made him walking death. Ernie was fighting to pull in a large salmon, over 40 pounds and didn't hear the splashing. When I did yell, "Grizzly" it was too late. Stark terror was the expression on Ernie’s face as the bear roared and Ernie tried to pull his gun. But it was too late to aim and the grizzly knocked Ernie off his feet, pushing him under the water.

     The bear's head disappeared under the water. When he came up, he had his jaws clamped on Ernie's left shoulder, as he gasped for breath and then he screamed at me,"Run!" Like a rag doll, the bear tossed Ernie into the air as two bright red streams of blood shot through the air. I had my gun pulled out but couldn't get a clean shot and feared I might shoot Ernie.

     The bear caught up to Ernie. This time it grabbed onto Ernie's neck. I cringed as I heard the bones crush and knew my friend was dead. There was no movement at all as Ernie’s body was dragged to the shore. He was lucky, I thought. Many people attacked by grizzlies are eaten while they’re still alive. I knew better than to shoot at a bear from that distance too.

     Plus, with its sloping forehead, bullets even from a 44 often times just glance right off. Once on shore, he dropped Ernie. He looked around, perhaps to see if any other bears were nearby and then he saw me. His eyes were those of Satan himself and then I saw the bulge on the side of his throat. I saw the broken arrow shaft from a bow hunter. The bulge on his neck was a massive infection and the pain had to be horrible.

     I'll bet he was ready to fight anyone and anything without any provocation. That bear didn't ponder for a moment if he should attack or leave me alone. He lowered his head and charged me. I fired three rounds at him hoping to strike a vital part or scare him but he kept rushing towards me like a freight train. I knew in deep of water I couldn't escape.

     In shallow water, I had even less of a chance. I was terrified but knew my only chance to live was to stand my ground and hold tight to my gun. At close range, each bullet would do more damage. Even if I was to die, I wanted him to also die and not attack any others. When he was just feet away, I moved to the left, hoping he would pass me but the claws of his right paw caught my shoulder.

     I felt my jacket jerk me to my right before I felt the meat rip off my arm as I screamed in agony. I flew into the air toward shallower water. Everything was a blur as I choked on water. Suddenly, I felt his jaws clamp onto my thigh and he tossed me towards the shore again. When I landed in shallow water blood spurted through the air turning the water red.

     As the bear made his way to me, closer and closer, I couldn’t aim my gun with both hands. So I took aim as best I could with my right hand and got off two shots. I hit him twice but they didn't slow him down one bit. Now I had just one bullet left. His jaws clamped down onto my leg and I heard my bones crack. Now I was face down in the water, trying to hold my breath as he dragged me to shore.

     Then, for some reason, he stopped and released me. I lifted my head out of the water and got a breath of air. The water was ice cold and if anything, it numbed my body’s pain. I was weak but I still gripped my gun. I was staring into the eyes of the grizzly now with my blood on his fur. He was close, so very close. I knew that with only one bullet left, he had to be close enough for me to practically touch his nose.

     Then as I expected, he came towards me one giant paw splash at a time. I raised my gun and shook the water out of the barrel and aimed right for his open mouth. My only chance was to shoot the bear right in the mouth and blow out the back of his head. Anything less and I was as dead as my friend. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would explode as I fired my last shot and watched the grizzly drop into the water.

     He was dead as I barely kept my head out of the water. I tried to stop the bleeding from my shoulder. I looked over to my left and Ernie’s body was slumped on shore. I was sure he was dead. I had to get out of the water, I had to make it to shore. Then I realized I wasn’t safe on shore either. Not only would bears be passing by to feed further downstream, but the scent of our blood would be in the air, attracting bears.

     I struggled to reach my front jean pocket and reloaded my gun, one bullet at a time. I had 12 rounds left that was all. As I lay on shore, the pain was terrible and I had no plan, no plan to stay alive. Suddenly, I heard faintly in the distance the sounds of men, yelling, telling me to "Hold on!" I looked up towards the hillside with blurry eyes and saw three hunters quickly making their way down to where I lay.

     When they reached me, two men rushed to me. The third man checked on Ernie. They did their best to stop my bleeding and comfort me while one of them used his cell-phone to call for a helicopter.

© 2004 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

Very intense story. One huge mistake - NEVER would a guide take anyone fishing that close to that many bears. Bears are a norm on most any salmon river, and for the most part, they leave people alone - this would be a case of man hate. Bears are really quite smart. He would go after a man under these circumstances. So yeah, if you ever want to feel like a rag doll, just tangle with a pissed off grizzly. For your information, a medium sized griz will still have claws easily as long as your fingers. I know because I have some, and I shot that bear. Oh, and by the way, trying to stop a charging griz is like trying to stop a freight train. They might even be dead already, but it takes an incredibly long time (seemingly) for them to actually drop dead. hahaha

Raymond Cook said:

Hi Anna:

How wonderful you live in Alaska.

I have a collection of wildlife poetry many about Alaska though I have never visited there. I have thought of taking an Alaskan cruise but not by myself. I liked your website. I will look at it more tomorrow.

I am just finishing up writing my 23rd western frontier eBook, "A Brothel, A Beauty And a Murderer!"

Hopefully by Friday it will be finished and then a week-end of grammar editing. I hate looking forward to that.

I finally found someone local as a beta reader I would trust. They have been reading parts and have caught things that have escaped me.

As a late Christmas gift I offer you this Alaskan fishing story.

I wrote it 16 years ago and haven't really edited it so you may find mistakes.

But seeing how you live in Alaska I thought you might enjoy the story.

Sincerely,

Raymond

Alaskan Fishing!

     As I surveyed the scene below, the sight made me hesitate. There were twenty, maybe twenty-five grizzlies of all sizes, feeding on the immense salmon run. I could see thousands of salmon, returning to spawn. How ironic, they fight so hard to make it up the shallow river, only to die after spawning. The Copper River salmon  is the finest taste to savor at any restaurant.

     This was my third trip to this magical place, a fisherman's dream. But fishing near hungry bears, with bad tempers leaves one always on edge, always glancing around, fearful. My guide Ernie and I both carried 44 magnum pistols as I followed him down a well-used bear run trail. When we reached the river's edge, huge grizzly tracks led downstream alerted us and other bears of the best feasting area.

     So we headed upstream, putting distance between us and certain death. Bears like the shallows. It's easier for them to see, chase and catch salmon. So we felt safe in a deeper part of the Copper River upstream. We separated about thirty feet as we waded up to our waist. The water was ice cold but the insulated hip wader's helped us stay warm as we laughed and joked as we cast our lines out.

     I was the first to yell, "Fish on" and it became a tug of war as I reeled. Within an hour, between us, we had six salmon all stacked on shore. Hours passed and we saw no bears in our area, so we relaxed and enjoyed fishing. Suddenly, I heard water splashing loudly and I glanced over at Ernie. Running through the water at full speed was a huge grizzly and he was closing in on Ernie.

     His prominent hump on his back made him walking death. Ernie was fighting to pull in a large salmon, over 40 pounds and didn't hear the splashing. When I did yell, "Grizzly" it was too late. Stark terror was the expression on Ernie’s face as the bear roared and Ernie tried to pull his gun. But it was too late to aim and the grizzly knocked Ernie off his feet, pushing him under the water.

     The bear's head disappeared under the water. When he came up, he had his jaws clamped on Ernie's left shoulder, as he gasped for breath and then he screamed at me,"Run!" Like a rag doll, the bear tossed Ernie into the air as two bright red streams of blood shot through the air. I had my gun pulled out but couldn't get a clean shot and feared I might shoot Ernie.

     The bear caught up to Ernie. This time it grabbed onto Ernie's neck. I cringed as I heard the bones crush and knew my friend was dead. There was no movement at all as Ernie’s body was dragged to the shore. He was lucky, I thought. Many people attacked by grizzlies are eaten while they’re still alive. I knew better than to shoot at a bear from that distance too.

     Plus, with its sloping forehead, bullets even from a 44 often times just glance right off. Once on shore, he dropped Ernie. He looked around, perhaps to see if any other bears were nearby and then he saw me. His eyes were those of Satan himself and then I saw the bulge on the side of his throat. I saw the broken arrow shaft from a bow hunter. The bulge on his neck was a massive infection and the pain had to be horrible.

     I'll bet he was ready to fight anyone and anything without any provocation. That bear didn't ponder for a moment if he should attack or leave me alone. He lowered his head and charged me. I fired three rounds at him hoping to strike a vital part or scare him but he kept rushing towards me like a freight train. I knew in deep of water I couldn't escape.

     In shallow water, I had even less of a chance. I was terrified but knew my only chance to live was to stand my ground and hold tight to my gun. At close range, each bullet would do more damage. Even if I was to die, I wanted him to also die and not attack any others. When he was just feet away, I moved to the left, hoping he would pass me but the claws of his right paw caught my shoulder.

     I felt my jacket jerk me to my right before I felt the meat rip off my arm as I screamed in agony. I flew into the air toward shallower water. Everything was a blur as I choked on water. Suddenly, I felt his jaws clamp onto my thigh and he tossed me towards the shore again. When I landed in shallow water blood spurted through the air turning the water red.

     As the bear made his way to me, closer and closer, I couldn’t aim my gun with both hands. So I took aim as best I could with my right hand and got off two shots. I hit him twice but they didn't slow him down one bit. Now I had just one bullet left. His jaws clamped down onto my leg and I heard my bones crack. Now I was face down in the water, trying to hold my breath as he dragged me to shore.

     Then, for some reason, he stopped and released me. I lifted my head out of the water and got a breath of air. The water was ice cold and if anything, it numbed my body’s pain. I was weak but I still gripped my gun. I was staring into the eyes of the grizzly now with my blood on his fur. He was close, so very close. I knew that with only one bullet left, he had to be close enough for me to practically touch his nose.

     Then as I expected, he came towards me one giant paw splash at a time. I raised my gun and shook the water out of the barrel and aimed right for his open mouth. My only chance was to shoot the bear right in the mouth and blow out the back of his head. Anything less and I was as dead as my friend. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would explode as I fired my last shot and watched the grizzly drop into the water.

     He was dead as I barely kept my head out of the water. I tried to stop the bleeding from my shoulder. I looked over to my left and Ernie’s body was slumped on shore. I was sure he was dead. I had to get out of the water, I had to make it to shore. Then I realized I wasn’t safe on shore either. Not only would bears be passing by to feed further downstream, but the scent of our blood would be in the air, attracting bears.

     I struggled to reach my front jean pocket and reloaded my gun, one bullet at a time. I had 12 rounds left that was all. As I lay on shore, the pain was terrible and I had no plan, no plan to stay alive. Suddenly, I heard faintly in the distance the sounds of men, yelling, telling me to "Hold on!" I looked up towards the hillside with blurry eyes and saw three hunters quickly making their way down to where I lay.

     When they reached me, two men rushed to me. The third man checked on Ernie. They did their best to stop my bleeding and comfort me while one of them used his cell-phone to call for a helicopter.

© 2004 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

Thanks for subscribing. The website is what it is, and while there's lots of places throughout to comment, and I believe you can then subscribe to any further comments. There is no overall way to subscribe.

T. R. Robinson said:

Like the look of both. Have subscribed to blog but no opportunity to do so presented on website. Look forward to sharing.

Anna L. Walls said:

Sounds good to me
Here's my main writing blog (which will lead you to other blogs if you're interested) http://AnnaLWalls.blogspot.com
Here's my website - http://AnnaLWalls.com
Do stop by and maybe leave a comment here or there. They would be much appreciated.

Hello Again:

Thank you for allowing me to share that story with you.

Sincerely,

Raymond

Anna L. Walls said:

Very intense story. One huge mistake - NEVER would a guide take anyone fishing that close to that many bears. Bears are a norm on most any salmon river, and for the most part, they leave people alone - this would be a case of man hate. Bears are really quite smart. He would go after a man under these circumstances. So yeah, if you ever want to feel like a rag doll, just tangle with a pissed off grizzly. For your information, a medium sized griz will still have claws easily as long as your fingers. I know because I have some, and I shot that bear. Oh, and by the way, trying to stop a charging griz is like trying to stop a freight train. They might even be dead already, but it takes an incredibly long time (seemingly) for them to actually drop dead. hahaha

Raymond Cook said:

Hi Anna:

How wonderful you live in Alaska.

I have a collection of wildlife poetry many about Alaska though I have never visited there. I have thought of taking an Alaskan cruise but not by myself. I liked your website. I will look at it more tomorrow.

I am just finishing up writing my 23rd western frontier eBook, "A Brothel, A Beauty And a Murderer!"

Hopefully by Friday it will be finished and then a week-end of grammar editing. I hate looking forward to that.

I finally found someone local as a beta reader I would trust. They have been reading parts and have caught things that have escaped me.

As a late Christmas gift I offer you this Alaskan fishing story.

I wrote it 16 years ago and haven't really edited it so you may find mistakes.

But seeing how you live in Alaska I thought you might enjoy the story.

Sincerely,

Raymond

Alaskan Fishing!

     As I surveyed the scene below, the sight made me hesitate. There were twenty, maybe twenty-five grizzlies of all sizes, feeding on the immense salmon run. I could see thousands of salmon, returning to spawn. How ironic, they fight so hard to make it up the shallow river, only to die after spawning. The Copper River salmon  is the finest taste to savor at any restaurant.

     This was my third trip to this magical place, a fisherman's dream. But fishing near hungry bears, with bad tempers leaves one always on edge, always glancing around, fearful. My guide Ernie and I both carried 44 magnum pistols as I followed him down a well-used bear run trail. When we reached the river's edge, huge grizzly tracks led downstream alerted us and other bears of the best feasting area.

     So we headed upstream, putting distance between us and certain death. Bears like the shallows. It's easier for them to see, chase and catch salmon. So we felt safe in a deeper part of the Copper River upstream. We separated about thirty feet as we waded up to our waist. The water was ice cold but the insulated hip wader's helped us stay warm as we laughed and joked as we cast our lines out.

     I was the first to yell, "Fish on" and it became a tug of war as I reeled. Within an hour, between us, we had six salmon all stacked on shore. Hours passed and we saw no bears in our area, so we relaxed and enjoyed fishing. Suddenly, I heard water splashing loudly and I glanced over at Ernie. Running through the water at full speed was a huge grizzly and he was closing in on Ernie.

     His prominent hump on his back made him walking death. Ernie was fighting to pull in a large salmon, over 40 pounds and didn't hear the splashing. When I did yell, "Grizzly" it was too late. Stark terror was the expression on Ernie’s face as the bear roared and Ernie tried to pull his gun. But it was too late to aim and the grizzly knocked Ernie off his feet, pushing him under the water.

     The bear's head disappeared under the water. When he came up, he had his jaws clamped on Ernie's left shoulder, as he gasped for breath and then he screamed at me,"Run!" Like a rag doll, the bear tossed Ernie into the air as two bright red streams of blood shot through the air. I had my gun pulled out but couldn't get a clean shot and feared I might shoot Ernie.

     The bear caught up to Ernie. This time it grabbed onto Ernie's neck. I cringed as I heard the bones crush and knew my friend was dead. There was no movement at all as Ernie’s body was dragged to the shore. He was lucky, I thought. Many people attacked by grizzlies are eaten while they’re still alive. I knew better than to shoot at a bear from that distance too.

     Plus, with its sloping forehead, bullets even from a 44 often times just glance right off. Once on shore, he dropped Ernie. He looked around, perhaps to see if any other bears were nearby and then he saw me. His eyes were those of Satan himself and then I saw the bulge on the side of his throat. I saw the broken arrow shaft from a bow hunter. The bulge on his neck was a massive infection and the pain had to be horrible.

     I'll bet he was ready to fight anyone and anything without any provocation. That bear didn't ponder for a moment if he should attack or leave me alone. He lowered his head and charged me. I fired three rounds at him hoping to strike a vital part or scare him but he kept rushing towards me like a freight train. I knew in deep of water I couldn't escape.

     In shallow water, I had even less of a chance. I was terrified but knew my only chance to live was to stand my ground and hold tight to my gun. At close range, each bullet would do more damage. Even if I was to die, I wanted him to also die and not attack any others. When he was just feet away, I moved to the left, hoping he would pass me but the claws of his right paw caught my shoulder.

     I felt my jacket jerk me to my right before I felt the meat rip off my arm as I screamed in agony. I flew into the air toward shallower water. Everything was a blur as I choked on water. Suddenly, I felt his jaws clamp onto my thigh and he tossed me towards the shore again. When I landed in shallow water blood spurted through the air turning the water red.

     As the bear made his way to me, closer and closer, I couldn’t aim my gun with both hands. So I took aim as best I could with my right hand and got off two shots. I hit him twice but they didn't slow him down one bit. Now I had just one bullet left. His jaws clamped down onto my leg and I heard my bones crack. Now I was face down in the water, trying to hold my breath as he dragged me to shore.

     Then, for some reason, he stopped and released me. I lifted my head out of the water and got a breath of air. The water was ice cold and if anything, it numbed my body’s pain. I was weak but I still gripped my gun. I was staring into the eyes of the grizzly now with my blood on his fur. He was close, so very close. I knew that with only one bullet left, he had to be close enough for me to practically touch his nose.

     Then as I expected, he came towards me one giant paw splash at a time. I raised my gun and shook the water out of the barrel and aimed right for his open mouth. My only chance was to shoot the bear right in the mouth and blow out the back of his head. Anything less and I was as dead as my friend. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would explode as I fired my last shot and watched the grizzly drop into the water.

     He was dead as I barely kept my head out of the water. I tried to stop the bleeding from my shoulder. I looked over to my left and Ernie’s body was slumped on shore. I was sure he was dead. I had to get out of the water, I had to make it to shore. Then I realized I wasn’t safe on shore either. Not only would bears be passing by to feed further downstream, but the scent of our blood would be in the air, attracting bears.

     I struggled to reach my front jean pocket and reloaded my gun, one bullet at a time. I had 12 rounds left that was all. As I lay on shore, the pain was terrible and I had no plan, no plan to stay alive. Suddenly, I heard faintly in the distance the sounds of men, yelling, telling me to "Hold on!" I looked up towards the hillside with blurry eyes and saw three hunters quickly making their way down to where I lay.

     When they reached me, two men rushed to me. The third man checked on Ernie. They did their best to stop my bleeding and comfort me while one of them used his cell-phone to call for a helicopter.

© 2004 Raymond Cook (All rights reserved)

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