Part of the Folklore of Backpacking

There is hardly anybody who loves the outdoors that does not enjoy a good bear story, is what I think.

Black bear stories are good, but I prefer ones that involve the largest predator in North America, the Grizzly.

I have written before of the tension one feels while hiking through the habitat of the Grizzly, that makes those hikes several levels more exciting, and a whole lot more satisfying, once the trip is over.

Being in Grizzly country means you are in country that is a heck of a lot more wild than your normal 2 to 4 hours out of town. (of course if you live in NW Montana 2 hours out of almost any town puts you in Griz territory).

Last week when I was fortunate enough to be hiking in Glacier National Park, I noticed that most people were pretty careful to make noise while hiking, especially in thick cover . I heard them coming through thick aspen or willows and elderberry clapping their hands.

A young couple from Canada who passed me on the trail had bear bells tied to the back of their packs. Next time I saw them they had removed the bells for some reason (they can get irritating).

Clapping Hands may be the better alternative than bear bells. A bear researcher in Alaska who tied a string to bear bells and jingled them when a bear came along a trail found that most bears ignored the bells. If he broke a twig near the trail the bear always reacted - either investigating or running away.

There is also some initial research that says that wearing brightly-colored clothing or having colorful tents may attract bears, who tend to notice the colors and come over to investigate. (see "The Blend In Theory" article by David Peterson in October 2000 issue of backpacker magazine).

I was hiking alone and was pretty quiet until a couple miles up the trail I saw a large Grizzly on a high ridge above timberline. After that I made sure to clang my trekking poles together when in thick cover (where I coudn't see for more than ten or fifteen feet through the willows). I also pulled out my harmonica and played a tune now and again, which was a good bet to get the bears and most everything else running. ( and hoped they would not act like my teenagers who are so rude as to try to jump me and wrench the harmonica from my hand to kill the noise.)

I try not to read bear attack articles before a trip, so as not to be too paronoid while on the trail (Prudent and noisy is a good thing to be, paronoid and sleepless do not help.).

I am ok with not knowing before my trip that that park rangers call a section of the Loop Trail above Going to the Sun Road "Mauling Meadows", because a hiker was killed there in 1992. (see "Valley of the Grizzlies" article by by David Peterson (February, 1995, Backpacker Magazine),

It was also good that I did not know that the trail I hiked on last Wednesday was the place where a bear mauled a hiker in 1999. (the Swiftcurrent Trail in the Many Glaciers Valley). According to the park service press release, "Kelly Krpata, 26, and his hiking companion Kim Taffer, 27 were hiking down from Swiftcurrent Pass when they rounded a bend in the trail and encountered a dark brown, adult bear coming towards them in a full blown charge.". Kelly dropped to a fetal position and he was bit and clawed on the thigh and hips, and his backpack and sleeping pad were damaged. Park rangers figured that his response (lying down and curling up) minimized his injuries and saved his companion from being injured.

These reports all make Glacier sound like a terrible scary place. That is not at all what it felt like last week. I had never been to Glacier and I have to say it is one of the prettiest places I have seen. Timberline is low - below 7000 feet, and above that the grass and shrub covered alpine extends for 2000 to 4000 feet. I saw bighorn sheep and mountain goats and black bear and as I said, Grizzly. Read about the fondness nature writer David Peterson has for Glacier, in his February, 1995 Backpacker Magazine article "Valley of the Grizzly":

I think I inadventently placed a seed of "toothy monsters out in the vast darkness" in the thoughts of two ladies who came up the Swiftcurrent trail with fishing poles rather late in the day - at 6pm, although I just answered their questions. When they came up the trail I was scanning the alpine with my binoculars, trying to spot that Grizzly that I had seen earlier. They asked if I was seeing any animals, and I told them about the Griz that was up on that mountainside a few hours ago. One said "up there is good" more to her companion than to me, and she hoped he stayed there. Her friend just said "cool" in a voice that cracked a little with fear. I had a feeling they where not going to spend too much time fishing that evening.

I walked down the trail slow, hearing a moose bugling down by the stream a few times, enjoying how wild this country really was, and wondering when I could get back to Glacier again.

Life is short, and what's left can seem especially so for those of us who are at the half century mark. (not sure how much backpacking I will be doing twenty years from now?) I would like to live mine out with as much "spiritual voltage" in it as possible, and I can tell you there is plenty on a high Glacier trail where around the bend one might be face to face with the Great Bear.