alyeska338
09-25-2003, 09:22 AM
Authors describe life and times of Alaska's first guide
ANDREW BERG: Man's journals provide basis for book.
By JOSEPH ROBERTIA
Peninsula Clarion
(Published: September 21, 2003)
KENAI -- "Andrew used to go hunting all by himself at times. ... He'd tie a piece of bacon to a rope, and knot the other end of the rope around his leg. ... Pretty soon an old brownie would come along sniffing around for something to eat. He'd find the bacon and take a bite. ... Andrew would pull the rope toward him, and the bear would follow the bacon. When the bear got up close, Andrew would shoot it. ... He got some mighty big bears that way!"
-- Story about Andrew Berg told to Katherine Bayou, a magazine writer, by "an old, old man from Kenai."
This story, whether fact or fiction, is one of many exciting tales in a new book, "Alaska's No. 1 Guide -- the History and Journals of Andrew Berg 1869-1939," by Catherine Cassidy and Gary Titus.
"There is no other source for a picture of life on the Peninsula during this period," Cassidy said of Berg's journals, which were found in his cabins. "It captures that time period and the essence of the wilderness lifestyle."
Cassidy is a commercial driftnet fisher out of Kasilof. She and her husband, Erik Huebsch, recently purchased and began renovating Tom Odale's old hunting lodge on Tustumena Lake where Andrew Berg was a frequent visitor.
Titus is a ranger and historian for the Kenai National Wildlife Refuge. He also "recently joined the exclusive club of those who have been chewed on by a grizzly bear," he said of an incident in Lake Clark National Park.
It was the injuries from the bear and the subsequent hiatus from work that led to Titus and Cassidy writing the book.
"I've been interested in the local history since I moved here in 1987," Cassidy said. "I saw a photo display on the history of the area by Alan Boraas and Penny McLane, and it hooked me."
Titus had been researching the area's history for 26 years but said his interest really piqued in the 1980s after a visit to Cottonwood Creek Lodge -- built on the south shore of Skilak Lake in the 1930s.
"I wanted to learn more about it and the time period," he said. "It went from a hobby to a passion. I had to hike the trails. I had to see what they saw. The more I learned and saw, the more I just had to know. It snowballed."
The bulk of the material in the book is excerpts from Berg's journal.
The stories include Berg's rescue of a moose stranded on a frozen pond by sliding a dog sled under it during the creature's attempt to stand. He then jumped on the moose's back and mushed the dogs attached to the sled to shore, riding the hapless herbivore the entire way.
Another tale details a hunt for a brown bear in the dark. After bagging the bruin, the frightened hunter that Berg was guiding returned the next morning to find out his kill was 12 feet from nose to tail.
There also is a story of a close call Berg had with a bear while out with a friend on a day their rifles were left at home.
"Two large brown bears in about two hundred yards distance. ... They saw us. ... They charged as a mad dog would. ...I jumped to the creek bank into a patch of young alder sprouts. ... The bear ran by me at the speed of a racehorse. He evidently knew that he was being tricked, stopped with a bellow of rage and started back up stream to look for me."
The authors agreed that there is no debating Berg's physical prowess. His physical abilities were impressive, particularly for a man who had the use of only one hand after accidentally shooting himself in the other.
But he never let his injury slow down his hunting, trapping, cabin building, cannery work or mining.
Not only were his physical abilities extraordinary, so were the distances he would travel on foot.
Berg thought nothing of walking two days in the winter to check mail or walking from a friend's place in Homer to his home in Kasilof before there were roads and bridges spanning rivers and connecting many locations.
"He would walk 10 miles just to visit a guy for lunch," Cassidy said.
The book appeals to hunters, hikers, history buffs and general backwoods types and holds some interest for conservationists as well.
Berg's writings are an example of this, according to Titus.
"Through Berg's journals you can see the things he saw," he said. "You can see his love for the game and the land. You can see it through his eyes, and those sheep, moose, bears, lynx, etc., are still here today."
ANDREW BERG: Man's journals provide basis for book.
By JOSEPH ROBERTIA
Peninsula Clarion
(Published: September 21, 2003)
KENAI -- "Andrew used to go hunting all by himself at times. ... He'd tie a piece of bacon to a rope, and knot the other end of the rope around his leg. ... Pretty soon an old brownie would come along sniffing around for something to eat. He'd find the bacon and take a bite. ... Andrew would pull the rope toward him, and the bear would follow the bacon. When the bear got up close, Andrew would shoot it. ... He got some mighty big bears that way!"
-- Story about Andrew Berg told to Katherine Bayou, a magazine writer, by "an old, old man from Kenai."
This story, whether fact or fiction, is one of many exciting tales in a new book, "Alaska's No. 1 Guide -- the History and Journals of Andrew Berg 1869-1939," by Catherine Cassidy and Gary Titus.
"There is no other source for a picture of life on the Peninsula during this period," Cassidy said of Berg's journals, which were found in his cabins. "It captures that time period and the essence of the wilderness lifestyle."
Cassidy is a commercial driftnet fisher out of Kasilof. She and her husband, Erik Huebsch, recently purchased and began renovating Tom Odale's old hunting lodge on Tustumena Lake where Andrew Berg was a frequent visitor.
Titus is a ranger and historian for the Kenai National Wildlife Refuge. He also "recently joined the exclusive club of those who have been chewed on by a grizzly bear," he said of an incident in Lake Clark National Park.
It was the injuries from the bear and the subsequent hiatus from work that led to Titus and Cassidy writing the book.
"I've been interested in the local history since I moved here in 1987," Cassidy said. "I saw a photo display on the history of the area by Alan Boraas and Penny McLane, and it hooked me."
Titus had been researching the area's history for 26 years but said his interest really piqued in the 1980s after a visit to Cottonwood Creek Lodge -- built on the south shore of Skilak Lake in the 1930s.
"I wanted to learn more about it and the time period," he said. "It went from a hobby to a passion. I had to hike the trails. I had to see what they saw. The more I learned and saw, the more I just had to know. It snowballed."
The bulk of the material in the book is excerpts from Berg's journal.
The stories include Berg's rescue of a moose stranded on a frozen pond by sliding a dog sled under it during the creature's attempt to stand. He then jumped on the moose's back and mushed the dogs attached to the sled to shore, riding the hapless herbivore the entire way.
Another tale details a hunt for a brown bear in the dark. After bagging the bruin, the frightened hunter that Berg was guiding returned the next morning to find out his kill was 12 feet from nose to tail.
There also is a story of a close call Berg had with a bear while out with a friend on a day their rifles were left at home.
"Two large brown bears in about two hundred yards distance. ... They saw us. ... They charged as a mad dog would. ...I jumped to the creek bank into a patch of young alder sprouts. ... The bear ran by me at the speed of a racehorse. He evidently knew that he was being tricked, stopped with a bellow of rage and started back up stream to look for me."
The authors agreed that there is no debating Berg's physical prowess. His physical abilities were impressive, particularly for a man who had the use of only one hand after accidentally shooting himself in the other.
But he never let his injury slow down his hunting, trapping, cabin building, cannery work or mining.
Not only were his physical abilities extraordinary, so were the distances he would travel on foot.
Berg thought nothing of walking two days in the winter to check mail or walking from a friend's place in Homer to his home in Kasilof before there were roads and bridges spanning rivers and connecting many locations.
"He would walk 10 miles just to visit a guy for lunch," Cassidy said.
The book appeals to hunters, hikers, history buffs and general backwoods types and holds some interest for conservationists as well.
Berg's writings are an example of this, according to Titus.
"Through Berg's journals you can see the things he saw," he said. "You can see his love for the game and the land. You can see it through his eyes, and those sheep, moose, bears, lynx, etc., are still here today."