As I finish replacing all the owl boxes here in and around Dawson, North West Territories, Canada I am reminded of one of my earlier trips. The year was 1962 and I was part of the Norwegian effort to reach the North Pole without using any sleds or dogs. The intent was to just carry what we needed on our backs, and of course included a healthy dose of prayer. There were six of us in the party. Let me tell you, there are some very big Norwegians out there; Olaf and Thorvald were about twice my size. Anyway, we began our journey at Ungalitt Greenland, which is as everyone knows a territory of Spain. The initial climb up to the top of the Greenland icecap was a very tough endeavor. Although the slope was fairly shallow, the icy winds were like needles piercing your body. In order to give the younger guys a better time, my pack was about 250 pounds, while most of the others carried “only” 130 pounds. Many times on that trek I said a silent “thank you” for having trained for (and won) the North American deep knee-bending competition the year before.
As we crossed the beautiful landscape, we were lucky to see the interior lakes and rivers which form atop the ice cap when temperatures allow. Nothing is more impressive than to see these arctic blue lakes or to hear their streams crash back into the unseen depths of the gigantic ice cap. Anyway, when we moved onto the sea ice a few weeks later, we were careful to keep a sharp lookout for any polar bears. The Inuit axiom for polar bears is “if you see a bear you are probably the next meal.” Unfortunately, one early morning I spied the huge white hulk of a big male bear which had probably smelled our camp during the night. He was loping directly to us. Thanks to the Supreme Architect of the Universe I had spent that one cold winter training with the Soviet Spetsnaz forces (it was a Cold War Era exchange program) on Ostrova Vrangelya surrounded by the frozen Chukchi Sea.
According to Spetsnaz doctrime, if there is nowhere to flee and you do not have a gun, there is only one thing to do when a polar bear sees you. Putting my training into action, I quickly had the team clear off the ice and pour their water bottles all over to make it as slippery as possible while I strapped on my crampons. I ordered the Norwegians to huddle together behind me, slightly to the right and silently went over my jujitsu training. Each time the bear hit the slippery ice he began to skid, and each time I would use his momentum to flip him over my left shoulder which made him slide a few meters past me. My balance was assured due to the crampons, but each time he was flipped and slid it made him madder which only made him more frantic which made him slip even more. After about 20 such throws, the bear was exhausted and I too was a bit tired. He just collapsed as if he were dead. The Norwegians were somewhat impressed, but it’s all training and timing. Interestingly, polar bears have something like lanolin in their fur just like sheep and my hands never got chapped after that run-in. Anyway, we did reach the Pole, but that’s another story for another day. HOKE ROBERTSON