The bits about the bears would have been interesting if he didn't just keep saying the same things over and over. The book wasn't really about the bears but about the author who thought very highly of how macho he is and how insightful he is about bears and wilderness and how stupid other people are. He finds meaning in life in "fishing, wild mushrooms, my own cooking, Mozart, good wine, woods and women." He describes himself as a terrorist. He hates anybody who dares go into his woods, but he himself wanders about provoking Grizzlies — or says he does. I only believe about half of what he says.