Speaker offers walk on the wild side
April 12, 2010 by Scott Sandsberry
She had already been an international-level competitor and national champion in two entirely unrelated sports. She had climbed precipitous peaks around the world.

Helen Thayer, with her trusty companion Charlie at her side, hauls the 160-pound sled containing her tent, food and other supplies on one of her trips to the magnetic North Pole. Thayer describes Charlie, who was trained to keep polar bears at bay, as a “Canadian Eskimo husky, and his grandfather was a wild Arctic wolf.” (Courtesy photo)
What did that was, in her words, “one month of being totally terrified.”
Nothing, really, can emotionally prepare a woman, traveling on foot and skis with no other companion but a dog — even a dog like Charlie, 100 pounds of profoundly protective husky/wolf hybrid — for a face-to-face encounter with an 8-foot-tall, 500-pound polar bear.
Especially one desperately intent upon turning her into a meal for its two hungry cubs.
Polar bears “are more predictable than a grizzly, but they’re extraordinarily dangerous,” says Thayer, 72, whose presentation at the Capitol will be a fundraiser for both the Cascadians and the Cowiche Canyon Conservancy.
“They’re very fast, and they’re very patient. They will stalk you for days. If one decides you’re on the menu, then you are on the menu. You just have to work to get off it.”

Helen Thayer
*******
The life choices that led Thayer to her avoidance-of-death dance with a polar bear, and to a steady stream of adventures since, read like the misbegotten progeny of a frequent-flyer itinerary and a late-night schedule on ESPN2.
She was born and raised in New Zealand, lives in Snohomish and, lately, has been spending an awful lot of time in Africa among such unlikely hosts as Masai tribesman and Hadzabe bushmen.
After climbing mountains as a child, in more recent years she has walked thousands of miles across the Sahara and Gobi deserts.
As a young adult she was a world-class discus thrower who at various times represented New Zealand, Guatemala and the United States. Years later, at 38, she was the U.S. national champion in luge, a sport unlike any event in track and field.
Finally, at 49 — while standing atop Peak Communism (now Ismoil Somoni Peak, at 24,590 feet the tallest mountain in Tajikistan and the former Soviet Union) — Thayer decided it was time to try something really interesting.
Like teaching.

Polar bears, like this one with hungry cubs, were a constant danger for Thayer on her solo, on-foot-and-skis trek to the North Pole in 1988. She later did the trip again with her husband, a professional helicopter pilot. (Courtesy photo)
“Some Masai kids might never see the inside of a classroom, but they have skills our children couldn’t even dream of,” says Thayer, adding that traveling the world “teaches you to respect everyone else. We never use the word ‘savage’ or ‘uncivilized,’ because we’re all civilized in our own way.”
The polar bear at her tent door on a memorable April morning near the North Pole wasn’t uncivilized.
But it was really hungry.
*******
Strangely, Thayer didn’t hear the bear’s approach and Charlie didn’t smell it.
Charlie’s life had been spent keeping bears out of an Inuit village well north of the Arctic Circle, where Thayer spent a month learning everything she could about dealing with polar bears. “The first whole week was spent trying to convince them I was serious,” Thayer laughs. “(Not some) crazy white woman from the south who hasn’t got a clue.”
When it became obvious to the villagers Thayer wasn’t crazy, just determined, one offered her Charlie.

Helen Thayer treks toward the North Pole. (Courtesy photo)
Charlie had been fearless on their six previous polar bear encounters, staying between Thayer and each hungry beast. One bear tossed aside the 160-pound equipment sled Thayer dragged behind her on her journey, but Charlie was undaunted. So was Thayer, who — to create smoke that might irritate and dissuade the bear — occasionally fired a flare gun. But never her rifle.
“It’s very difficult to drop them with one shot,” Thayer says. “And if you injure a polar bear, you’re going to die, because it’s going to kill you.”
Which was probably what the bear at the door had in mind when it approached Thayer’s tent and, finally, made the crunching sound on the snow that alerted Thayer and Charlie to its presence.
*******
Thayer bolted through the tent door.
That put her nose to nose for an instant with the bear, which recoiled in surprise. Charlie also rushed out, growling and snarling. Thayer saw immediately the bear was a nursing sow, its cubs hanging back while Mom checked out the menu.
“She was obviously impressed with Charlie, but not enough,” Thayer says. “Her desperation kept me on the menu.”
The situation quickly became both a standoff and a waiting game, with the bear circling nonstop, looking for an opening. Thayer stood her ground behind Charlie, vigilantly keeping the bear in her sights and the tent behind her — both to confuse the bear, which wasn’t accustomed to such structures on the landscape, and to appear larger and more formidable.
The bear stalked her relentlessly. An hour went by. Two hours. Three. Four.
“As long as I didn’t panic and run or turn my back, she was staying back, obviously with the idea that she’d just outwait me,” Thayer says. “It’s sort of a mental game: You have to get into the polar bear’s head a little bit, and the main thing is not to get into his stomach.
“The fear is just mind-boggling.”
But, in the end, not lethal.
We know the bear didn’t kill Thayer because she’ll be at the Capitol Theatre on Thursday night, regaling spectators with countless stories from her travels, of which that hungry bear was just one remarkable memory among many.
She has trekked that same route to the North Pole since, this time with her husband. She has also trekked to the South Pole, across deserts, traveling among tribesmen who may never have seen a white woman. But fear has remained her companion, because it has always kept her sharp.
“I never felt bulletproof,” Thayer says. “I always knew I was a very vulnerable human.”
And very much alive.
• Outdoors editor Scott Sandsberry can be reached at 509-577-7689 or ssandsberry@yakimaherald.com
If you go
WHAT: Presentation by world explorer Helen Thayer.
WHEN: 7 p.m. Thursday.
WHERE: Capitol Theatre, 19 S. 3rd St., Yakima.
WHY: Fundraiser for the Cascadians and Cowiche Canyon Conservancy.
HOW MUCH: $15 general admission.
WHO SHE IS: A world explorer who has turned her travels into an educational tool for her Adventure Classroom project, Thayer is most widely known for becoming the first woman to trek alone to the magnetic North Pole, without the use of a dog sled.
Filed under All, Outdoors




