After soloing in the Sierra Nevada many times I wanted something more adventurous and with more wildlife, so I did a solo trip from Hope to Seward across the Kenai Peninsula (about 80 miles on the trail) in the fall of 1994. Lots of brown/grizzly bears and the often more dangerous moose. Also hundreds of bald eagles, thousands of salmon and dozens of beavers, and more. Saw a number of moose at distances of 1/4 mile or more, saw many bear paw prints the size of dinner plates and huge piles of scat, but not the bears themselves.
After following a very elaborate protocol for cooking, storing food on a line between two trees at least 20 feet high, hiking at least 1/2 mile from camp and across a stream every time, setting up camp with an open fire, and hanging steel cans with small rocks from a perimeter cord 28″ off the ground, I would get into my tent for an illusion of security, lie down with a 12 ga. shotgun loaded with eight 3″ magnum slugs, and try to sleep.
Good luck with that the first couple of nights! I’d never felt so vulnerable and out of my element. This place belonged to them, not me. Every little sound filled me with dread, and it was even worse because I couldn’t see anything from inside the tent. The weather was fine, so I cowboy camped for a night and it was actually better. The last night I stumbled upon a hunter’s cabin and slept feeling blissfully secure.
Oh yeah, and I doubled my planned daily mileage and cut the number of days in half.
That was the first time I carried a gun on a backpacking trip (the darn thing weighed 8 lbs loaded), the only other being on a trek in the Mendocino National Forest where the federal rangers advised us to go in armed in case we stumbled on an illegal marijuana grow, and also warned us that if we were caught with a joint we’d go to jail.