From fastest to slowest, there is the pace people walk at DIA, Denver, Nederland, and Wrangell, Alaska. The people of Wrangell walk my speed. Six years had gone by since I last visited the quaint southeast Alaska town and the Anan Creek Bear Observatory.

In a world of constant change, it is reassuring to know that there are still places that stay the same. Wrangell can only be reached by air or sea. Traffic is almost nonexistent and everyone is friendly. Upon collecting my duffle bag at the airport, a local offered me a ride to my lodging at the Stikine Inn. With comfortable rooms and fine dining overlooking the ocean, a bald eagle sat perched on the exact lamppost that one frequented during my previous visit.

Having the afternoon at leisure, I began taking in familiar sights beginning with Totem Park. Aged carvings of eagles, ravens, and beavers may be seen decorating the totem poles. A couple of blocks away lies Shakes Island reached via an elevated wooden bridge.

At the island’s center is the Tribal House which contains numerous native Tlingit artifacts. Behind it under covered open-air sheds sit old totems serving as historical examples and templates awaiting recreation. The most interesting and unusual totem pole on the grounds is the Three Frog Totem. The frogs represent Kiks.adi women who had taken up residence with three slaves in Chief Shakes’ Naanya.aayi clan. For supporting those women, Shakes demanded compensation which was refused. The totem was erected as a ridicule or shame pole for nonpayment.

A mile away on the other side of town is Petroglyph Beach State Historic Site. Over forty petroglyphs depicting whales, salmon, seabirds, human faces and the sun are pecked in dusky metamorphic rock. Located in the mid-tide zone and at times underwater, it is believed that they were created between 1,000 and 8,000 years ago when sea levels were lower. In what would seem the only in Wrangell today compared to six years ago, a couple of shipwrecks on the shoreline had been reclaimed by the fierce winter storms and the ocean. All that remained were two engine blocks.

The next day was spent fishing near Wrangell. My first fish felt like a salmon, but turned out to be a small halibut (known as a “chicken halibut”). Later, a 100 lb. halibut was caught and released by a shipmate in accordance with regulations. The real highlights were observing eagles, humpback whales, and following a sizable pod of surfacing Dahl porpoise.

At the end of the day, crabbers unloaded their catch of Dungeness crab at the docks where Night N Gale Charters had just returned from their day of fishing. In a 31-foot boat that negotiates waves easier than the smaller one I was aboard, they had made a three-hour-long run that paid off with 30 pink salmon, good-size ling cod, and a bunch of black rockfish.

What brings many travelers to Wrangell is the nearby bear viewing. From roughly July 15 to August 15 every year, pink salmon return to Anan Creek to spawn, an hour’s boat ride from town. Drawn by the abundance of food, I spotted fifty bald eagles feeding on fish scraps left over from the bears. Anan Creek is unique in that both brown bears (coastal grizzlies) and black bears gather there. Harbor seals hunted salmon at the mouth of the creek.

A well maintained one-half-mile gravel and boardwalk trail leads to the observation deck. Visitation is strictly controlled with 40 guests and 20 guides allowed per day. The lower part of the creek is inhabited by brown bears. The middle, where viewing takes place, is the domain of black bears, and the upper, which is closed to the public, is home to brown bears. Occasionally the two types of ursine intermingle, but the black bears give the brown a wide berth when one happens by.

On one of my two three-hour days spent there, a mother brown bear and two cubs successfully fished at the unofficial boundary between black and brown. Unlike other bear viewing sites where the animals might stand poised on a rock for an hour before snagging a salmon, the bears at Anan Creek typically spend five or ten minutes attaining their meal. Some occupy rock ledges in the rapids or on the bank while others plunge into the water head first in pursuit of their prey. Once a salmon is firmly secured in its jaws, the bear ambles up the hillside or disappears between mossy boulders to consume its prize. The fish is pinned against the ground under the bear’s paw and the salmon’s skin ripped off and eaten. With such a glut of food available, the flesh is often left and just the calorie-rich fatty skin taken.

A long set of stairs lead down to a photo blind next to the creek for a close- up view of the action. Five people at a time are permitted inside for a fifteen- minute session. Time and demand allowed for two of these each day. The black bears walked under and around the blind merely feet away. One bear across the creek missed several salmon and had seen a few jump in front of its face. After fifteen minutes of trying and at the end of my allotted time in the blind, it clamped down on a chum salmon. It was the largest fish I saw caught at Anan.

For hotel booking information, go to www.stikineinn.com or call 907-874- 3388.

To arrange a bear tour, go to www.alaskawaters.com or call 907-305-0495.

To view past articles and pictures, go to www.davegibsonimages.com.