There's a bear in there

Evening falls over Sitka, afro-pop on Raven Radio, mushroom soup and a reasonably decent stint of writing. The gunpowder plot to kill the king is only hours away - but at the last minute, William has received a message that he's about to be deceived by his own daughter...

...one good thing about doing this blog is hearing from friends I've been out of touch with for a while. Liz McLaughlin tells me she's six months pregnant - I had no idea. Kath Fisher says the fireflies are out at Bodhi Farm. Jan and Charlie have just reached Brisbane to spend some time with Jan's daughter in her late pregnancy. James Bennet-Levy is moving back to Australia from the UK in April. Kym Roylance and her girlfriend set a beach on fire during their family holiday and Alison Carmichael asks me not to go all Annie Proux: 'grey bleak and introspective under the leaden skies'.

More alarmingly, Bev my Canadian friend tells me that I really must watch out for bears and that she and her partner Linda were charged by a mother bear ten years ago and it was terrifying. Bev is pretty tough - I remember she was a long term member of Montreal's wolf pack, a group that ran every day up massive hills all year round. I don't reckon she'd be easily scared.

With this fresh in my mind I picked up my borrowed bike today and headed off in the direction of Green Lake. A lovely ride winding on a thin strip of road between towering mountains on one side and the ocean on the other. I remembered I didn't have a bell or whistle - the idea is to make a fairly consistent noise so you don't surprise bears. My host Carolyn tells me that she sings, but I wasn't quite up for that, so I cycled along whistling instead. I was very bad at it and after about 10 mins I was reduced to repeating the same military style riff over and over again. The forest towered overhead, the road (which is a dead end) dwindled to gravel and then I arrived at a gate and it changed to what could only be called a track, edged with thick forest at the base of the mountain.

Hmm. Am I being a complete wimp worrying about bears? Or would I be a complete idiot to continue down this fairly remote, nearly deserted track during salmon spawning season, knowing there are no houses and only a salmon hatchery (I think) about another 10km further on? My whistle was sounding a little strained, but I decided to continue a little longer.

I made it about 100 metres to where the first stream crossed under the road. One dead salmon lying in the middle of the track. Surely they can't jump that high? And then, when I looked down, a dead salmon lying on the bank with a whopping big chunk bitten out of it - the first time I've seen that.

OK, that's enough for me. With a nonchalent whistle I hopped back on the bike and headed home to the comforts of the internet. Now that I've looked up 'Bear safety in Alaska' I feel a bit more comfortable. And yes, Bev, I'm going to buy some bells tomorrow.

It's been a busy couple of days doing things in Sitka. An interview on Raven Radio, a reading last night and addressing the rotary luncheon today. People have been very friendly and welcoming and reading things from the manuscript is good for getting me into the rhythm of the story again. I'm enjoying the balance of solitude and meeting people.

Melissa Lucashenko picked up on my slightly hectic state of mind and suggested my writing would benefit more from plenty of time doing nothing while I'm here. Not something that comes easily to me, but I did spend a lot of time yesterday curled up in a chair watching the water. It was lovely and I can feel myself slowing down. Often I feel that I must be incredibly tough on myself to make sure the writing gets done. Maybe there is another way.

Love Jesse xxx