Fear and Parenting in Alaska
We voted to reintroduce wolves to Colorado months before we moved to Alaska. At the time of the vote, we had no immediate plans to move, but that would be quite the practical joke.
I’ve always enjoyed the fear that comes with wildness. The stare of a wolf, the view across many miles travelled, and many miles that must be backtracked to reach my home or car. I don’t sympathize with ranchers against wolves like I don’t sympathize with fisherman against seals. If wolves or seals are what run you out of ranching or fishing, maybe you weren’t much of a rancher or fisherman to begin with. Or you’re in the wrong place. But people have been attacked too, and dogs, more by wolves than seals I think.
A friend had been surrounded by wolves as a young boy with his family. He carried a paranoia about wolves for decades, probably still does, even though his dad easily dispatched enough of that pack to keep his family safe. Some have reason to fear.
But without fear, would we love this place like we do? My loves of extreme sports and partying and fishing and even family have all been fueled some by the risks that are built into them.
Now here we are in Alaska, where wolves might be impossible to extirpate. I keep wandering by the site of the last sighting with my little kids and little dog. There’s responsibility, then there’s the reality that we can’t control everything. I know I wouldn’t want to. Maybe that’s why I’ve engaged in so much risky behavior, because at least in climbing and fishing and having kids the risks are up front, not hidden under pavement or behind a screen.