Looking above camp toward where we’d be hunting brown bears, all we could see was snow and mountains, not a tree in sight. The only thing that wasn’t white was an occasional rock sticking out of the blanket of snow. It should be pretty easy to spot a bear in all that white, I thought. Tyrell, my 30-year-old guide, and I had just settled into our base camp at the head of the Kipchuck river about 70 miles south of Aniak, Alaska. Little did we know that we’d be fighting for our lives the very next day.
