Johan Otter and his 18-year old daughter Jenna were attacked last week by a grizzly bear mother trying to protect her cubs. Both are alive, fortunately. Johan bore the brunt of the attack, on purpose. He attempted to keep the bear interested in him to spare his daughter Jenna. That strategy largely worked – Jenna sustained some facial lacerations and other injuries, but she is in much better shape than her Dad. See their interview with Katie Couric here.
There’s a point during the interview when Jenna is talking about how hearing her father scream was the worst thing a person could ever hear. Actually, it’s not. There’s one thing much, much worse – it’s so bad most parents would rather be mauled by a bear than hear it, and that’s the choice Johan was forced to make. His injuries are extensive, but he’s expected recover, thank goodness.
But I just knew – even before I heard it on the interview – that the attack had taken place in Glacier National Park.
I was reluctant to blog about this at first. It would be a crime to miss hiking Glacier because of a fear of bears. In the park’s 95-year history, only ten people have been killed by bears there. And the attack on the Otters was the first reported bear attack at Glacier this year, and the season is almost over. That’s not a bad record, considering that as of August, 2005, Glacier had already had over a million and a half visitors this year alone.
I’ve spent a fair amount of time in this park, in the frontcountry and backcountry, and I have never laid eyes on a bear there, either black or grizzly. Oddly, the bear sightings I’ve had in Montana have taken place in much more populated areas – the first one was on the road going up to the Big Mountain resort, and the second was on the road up to my father-in-law’s house in Libby. Those were both black bears.
Grizzly bears are threatened in the lower 48 states, and don’t need any more bad publicity. In fact, grizz are really just big pussies, and will almost always flee at the first sign of a human. But if you surprise them, and they think you are threatening their babies, they will Mess. You. Up. Plain and simple.
The Otters came around a blind curve to find themselves facing the bear. The park rangers advise you to make a lot of noise as you’re heading down the trail – clapping, shouting, whistling, anything that will alert the hard-of-hearing bears to your presence so they will run away like the big wimpy babies they usually are. I don’t know whether the Otters were doing this; they were hiking the steep Grinnell Glacier Trail, and could have been huffing and puffing instead of shouting “Hey, bear!” That happens to me a lot going uphill. Or they might have been making the prescribed amount of noise, and the bear just didn’t hear them. It seems like that could happen too.
But in any event, it doesn’t really matter. Where humans and bears intersect, there will be attacks, and fatalities. Where there are cars, there will be fatal crashes. Where there are viruses, sometimes people sicken and die. Where there is lightning, people might be hit. And the statistics with respect to the bears are such that I’m willing to take my chances, yet listen carefully to the rangers to minimize the risks.
Here’s what they say to do to prevent an encounter:
- Make noise. Most bells aren’t loud enough. Clap and call out.
- Don’t assume that just because a trail is well-traveled, that you don’t have to watch for bears. Some of the most heavily traveled trails in Glacier are surrounded by excellent bear habitat.
- Be mindful of conditions that make it difficult for bears to see, hear or smell hikers. In that vein, be careful by streams, in the wind, or in heavy vegetation. A blind corner or a rise in the trail also requires special attention.
- Keep kids close, and avoid hiking alone.
- Avoid hiking during the early morning, dusk, and after dark.
- Don’t hike where bears eat. For example, avoid cow parsnip thickets, berry patches, or fields of glacier lilies.
- Watch for calling cards, including scat, tracks, torn-up logs, diggings, trampled vegetation, and overturned rocks.
- Finally, don’t approach a bear. Duh.
And if you do see a bear, here’s what you do:
- Bend over. And kiss your ass goodbye.
Heh. Just kidding. Here’s what they really say:
- Talk quietly or not at all; the time to make loud noise is before you encounter a bear. Try to detour around the bear if possible.
- Do not run! Back away slowly, but stop if it seems to agitate thebear.
- Assume a nonthreatening posture. Turn sideways, or bend at the knees to appear smaller.
- Use peripheral vision. Bears appear to interpret direct eye contact as threatening.
- Drop something (not food) to distract the bear. Keep your pack on for protection in case of an attack.
- If a bear attacks and you have bear spray, use it!
- If the bear makes contact, protect your chest and abdomen by falling to the ground on your stomach, or assuming a fetal position to reduce the severity of an attack. (This is what Johan Otter believes saved him.) Cover the back of your neck with your hands. Do not move until you are certain the bear has left.
- Report all bear attacks to the nearest ranger or warden immediately.
They continue:
"In rare cases bears may attack at night or after stalking people. This kind of attack is very rare but can be very serious because it often means the bear is looking for food and preying on you. If you are attacked at night or if you feel you have been stalked and attacked as prey, try to escape. If you can not escape, or if the bear follows, use pepper spray, or shout and try to intimidate the bear with a branch or rock. Do whatever it takes to let the bear know you are not easy prey."
I love how they say a bear stalking you “can be very serious.” Thank you for that insight, Captain Obvious.
But please, go hiking. Even in Glacier. You'll probably never get lucky enough to see a bear.
* I shamelessly swiped this fabulous term from this article and the bear expert who used it. As for the subject of that article, that's a topic for another day, and another (even longer) post.
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