Ten Steps to Hiking in Grizzly Country

I arrived in northwestern Montana this April thinking I was an experienced solo backpacker.  Because I’d dealt with black bears in “problem areas” like the Smokies and Yosemite, I thought I would easily adjust to hiking solo in grizzly country.  I thought that fears of grizzlies were overblown. 

Trailhead sign in Glaicer NP.

Turned out, it was more complicated than I'd assummed. 

After eight months, I’m certainly no expert.  Learning the best practices for hiking in grizzly country was straitforward: make noise, be constantly alert, take care with food, keep food and food smells away from camp, carry bear spray.  But the mental aspects required significant adjustment.

I found little information about solo hiking around grizzlies.  Signs and guidebooks simply say don’t do it. The vast majority of locals say don’t do it.  "Why?" I kept asking.  "Is it really that much more dangerous than going with a partner?" 

I am not making any recommendations here.  Its best to follow the official advice.  Or avoid Montana.

But here is my story of the ten steps that I took to hike here, alone:

1. Study reports of grizzly attacks.  Realize that the risk of death is low, but maulings happen more frequently.  Statistically, drownings and falls present a more serious danger.  Try (and fail) to identify patterns in the attacks.  Did the victims make obvious errors? Which areas have problem bears and the highest bear concentrations?  Listen to some people say that the Bob is safer because bears are more wild, while others say Glacier because it’s heavily monitored and bears are sort-of habituated.  Realize that bears are unpredictable, that they could be anywhere.  Even experienced hikers taking all the precautions have been attacked. 

2. Practice skills for hiking in grizzly country;
    -  How to make noise especially around blind corners.
    -  How to distinguish black bears and grizzlies, and how to respond to each.  
    -  How to carry bear spray on a belt so it says with you when you take off your pack, and doesn’t fall down a cliff and roll into a freezing cold lake.
    -  How to keep the safety on the bear spray covered so it doesn’t break in your car, and then accidentally fire into a fellow hiker’s face at the trailhead, causing all sorts of pain and leaving you feeling totally mortified and too embarrassed to ever hike with that group again, even though they were probably your best hope to find hiking buddies.

3. Practice wildlife avoidance tactics.  Choose popular trails.  Wait at empty trailheads for other hikers to arrive.   Avoid trails with grizzly signs.  Avoid hiking at dawn and dusk.  Inquire about bear activity at the backcountry ranger office.  Question everyone you pass about what wildlife they’ve seen.  Hike 10 miles to a campsite where you have a permit, only to hear about a grizzly in the area when you arrive, and hike the 10 miles out again so you don’t have to camp there alone.

Do I really want to camp here?

4.  Seek guidance from experienced solo hikers.  Discover that most of the badass female backpackers did not go through Montana alone when they were on the CDT.  Identify two superheros of backpacking and get up enough courage to ask how they went solo.  Listen carefully as they emphasize that mental state is key.   “Know your place on the food chain."  "Accept the risks you are taking."  "It’s complex,” they say. 

What does that even mean?

5. See grizzlies up close with other people.  Walk by a grizzly that you could reach out and touch with your hiking pole.  Camp in a place where a grizzly walks past the tents.  Feel what it is like to know your place on the food chain.

Notice that there is a risk to hiking with other people because you are less cautious, less aware.  Discover that hiking with other people doesn't feel that safe either. Especially when other people run from bears, or do other stupid things.

Two women running from the grizzly bear towards us on the Highline Trail.

Roadside grizzly at Logan Pass, Glacier Nationa Park.  This makes me uncomfortable for a number of reasons.  People think they are at a zoo.

6. Go solo hiking, and experience the discomfort.  Drive yourself crazy shouting and clapping and making noise.   Lie awake at night, startling at the smallest rustling.  Question whether you are cut out for Montana.  Cry at the incredible beauty.  Wish this place could feel like home.

Solo trip to Lincoln Lake.

7. Decide to stay home.  Have a backcountry camping permit and your backpack packed for the weekend, but then read the day’s news reports of a bear mauling and the FWP press release saying that bear activity is on the rise.  Call the backcountry permit office and cancel the reservation.  Try to think of something else to do, but fail to come up with anything to do at 5 AM but hike.  Face the reality that you are a hiker and your heart longs for the woods.  Spend the day lying in bed feeling depressed.

Learn that there is a measurable risk to staying home, to NOT hiking solo.

8. Feel the fear.  Have a solo bear encounter.  Feel the clarity of mind when you know danger is that close and make those smart decisions.  Have everything go well- the bear stands up on two feet to get a good look at you, then you realize it's only a black bear as it runs off.  

Completely realistic likeness of the solo black bear encounter in Glaicer.

 9. Watch Night of the Grizzlies and the next morning hike to one of the sites of the maulings.  Sit at the edge of Trout Lake for an hour in a hail storm by yourself.  Think about death.  Feel what it is like to be completely alive.

Trout Lake-- site of one of the 1967 grizzly attacks that changed attitudes towards bears and led to our modern managment system.

10. Accept the risk of going solo.  Feel the mental shift that has happened.  Measure the risks, find ways to mitigate the risks.  Feel the fear but also the even stronger drive to be out in this beautiful grizzly country.  Value the wildness of this place.  Respect that you are traveling through the home for these endangered creatures.  Realize that you probably shouldn’t even be here, but that having this experience is powerful and is challenging you in ways you had never imagined, certainly would never have asked for.  Be grateful for all of this.

Solo trip to Dawson Pass, near Two Medicine.

Again, I'm not saying I recommend going solo.  But as someone who previously backpacked solo for many years, and as someone who had trouble finding available hiking buddies, this is what I did.  Because I weighted the risk of hiking solo with the risks of staying home.

I hope this will give you some idea of what they mean when they tell you not to hike solo in grizzly country.

If you have questions, please do not hesitate to contact me.  My email address is listed on my "about me" page.

For more information:

Night of the Grizzlies -watch the documentary or read the book

Good article on food protection by Andrew Skurka

Glacier National Park's bear advice and video

Bear biology and research

Grinnell Glacier

If you hike popular trails in Glacier National Park during early September, you do not hike alone.  Especially not on the trip to Grinnell Glacier from Many Glacier.

Water and rock on the trail to see the glacier.

The hikers I pass are talkative, sharing delight in the scenery and assuring me the climb is “worth it.”  (Guess they don’t know that I love the climbing part.)  I get the impression that because I am solo, they are more open to stopping to chat. A few seem worried about me hiking by myself, and leave me with a cautionary “Be careful.”  How do they all seem to know I’m solo, and not just ahead of my hiking partner?

A few miles in, I start to hear stories of the grizzly and her two cubs.  Each passing version of the story has a different angle.  “The grizzlies were above the trail.” “They went down the valley.”  “Those tourists ran towards the grizzlies and got close to the cubs!”  “Look at this photo of the crazy tourists getting right up close to the mama and cubs—they are such idiots!” 

Two hikers are stopped with binoculars pointing across the valley.  They point and finally I can see the grizzly followed by her two cubs, tiny specks on the far hillside. 

On that far cliff is the grizzly and cubs.

I’m glad I didn’t see them up close.  They traveled quickly, to now be that far away already.

I keep climbing up to the glacier.  Making extra noise.  Then the sight takes my breath away.

WOW this is Grinnell Glacier!  What a sight!  It is worth it!

All of these glaciers and ice fields used to be one continuous glacier, but are now getting smaller and breaking up as a result of climate change.  I'm glad I got to see this glacier now, while it's still here.  Because it'll be gone soon.

On the return trip, I wonder if I will see the grizzlies again.  There are long stretches without any other hikers, so I sing and make noise around blind corners.

All is clear though.  

For more information on this hike:
Grinnell Glacier

Kintla to Bowman, Part 2

Every backpacker we passed our first day told us about the grizzly at Hole in the Wall campsite. 

We had permits our second night for Hole in the Wall Campsite.

Some said they passed close to him on the spur trail between trail and campsite.  Others said he hung around the food prep area at the campsite.  A few said he was a “friendly” bear.  None of this sounded good to me.  I’d rather stay far away from grizzlies.  Twice I have not camped in sites that I had reserved after learning of bear activity there the night before.  But D. was excited about seeing a grizzly and wanted to get a photo.  And we had one more mountain goat survey.

When we descended into camp, we got lucky and the grizzly was far away from the camp and trail.  We met M. who had been watching the grizzly and we were glad to be sharing the site with another camper.  We turned into bed early.

M. had a story in the morning though!  When he’d unzipped his tent at about 6:30 AM, the grizzly was right outside his door.  After a moment of being face to face, the grizzly ran off. 

After packing up, D. and I scanned the valley with our binocs to locate the grizzly before we left camp.  Hole in the Wall campsite lies at the bottom of a hanging cirque lined with huckleberries like a huge berry bowl with the main trail at the rim of the bowl.   Would the grizzly be on the spur trail that we needed to take back up to the main trail? 

“There are two grizzlies now!” I am horrified.  We watch them move closer together, foraging for berries.  They bluff charge each other, and their grunts and growls can be heard all the way across the valley.

Two grizzlies!  Photo by D.

It is like watching a nature video, but it is real and there is no screen.  Boundaries of trail and campsite are an illusion.  Was the territorial behavior causing hormones to surge in their veins?

The other campers all agree to hike out past the grizzlies together.  The five us us form a tight line.  We loose sight of the bears as we drop down into the bowl.  We sing and make noise, bear spray clutched in our hands.  Ever turn is a blind turn.

D. leading the way with her bear spray out on the narrow trail.  She's one brave woman.

And then, there he is, right above the trail behind some small trees, right on the switchback.  JUST KEEP WALKING AND DON’T LOOK DIRECTLY AT HIM.  We hold our formation, tight, bear spray out. 

Of course we were all gripping our bear sprays, so no photo, but the grizzly, like this one, was right behind the small trees directly above the trail. Artwork by Bev Doolittle.

There he is, so close I could reach out and touch him.  The grizzly could reach out an touch us too.  But he doesn’t.  Then we are past.

Looking back at Hole in the Wall Campsite after we made it past the first grizzly.  I remember having a vague sense that the area was scenic and that I was missing the beauty.

Where is the other grizzly?  A steaming pile of scat on the trail provides part of the answer.  I spy him down below the valley below Brown Pass.  Or is it another grizzly?  How many are there?

At our goat survey site, the other hikers hurry ahead.  I scan the cliffs for goats while D. keeps her binocs trained on the grizzly.  He’s grazing for berries and moving in our general direction.  I’m suppose to look for goats for a full hour.  I manage two full scans of the cliffs.  My pulse thundering the minutes ticking by.  It’s only been 15 minutes but the grizzly is now too close.  We abandon the survey and hike on.

Going down Brown Pass, happy to be leaving the grizzlies to their berries.

I don’t understand the people who called them friendly.  That strikes me as disrespectful.  On the other hand, it was fascinating to watch them so long through binoculars across the valley.  To see how fast they ran when they charged each other.  I wonder if it was right to camp there though.  They have so little space.  I felt like I was encroaching on their home, overstepping. 

Moving to Montana, I didn’t realize the ramifications of being in grizzly territory.  I know my imagination probably runs too wild.  Statistically, problems are rare, and I’m still much more likely to fall off a cliff or get hit by a car.  Maybe it’ll get easier over time.  This place is so gorgeous, it feels worth it… at least most of the time.

Harrison Lake in Glacier

My original plan had been to hike in the Bob, or a section of the CDT in Montana.  But with all the fires, I can't figure out where to go that isn't closed.  Smoke is thick and I can't think straight and I just want to be hiking.  So off for another mountain goat and loon citizen science survey in Glacier National Park, because at least that way I'll know I'm doing something worthwhile.

10 AM 
I see him before he sees me.  I say hey bear and he runs off.  I like that.  It is reassuring that not all bears here in Montana are bossy and bold like that one from the Highline.

Doing loon and mountain goat surveys for Glacier's Citizen Science Program.

4:40 PM
At the head of Harrison Lake, one adult loon is swimming and diving.  I record the time and location on my survey sheet.  Then, I loose sight of him. Where could he have gone?

5:03 PM
At the mountain goat survey site, I see no mountain goats.

5:34 PM
Still no mountain goats.  Oh well.  I tried.

6:46 PM
Back near the campsite, on the shore of the lake, looking for the loon again.  Instead, a moose on the far shore perks its ears, looks around, and walks into the water.  It’s swimming!  Then, it starts swimming in my direction.  Do you know how fast moose swim?  Why is the moose swimming towards me?

That speck is a moose and it's getting closer.

I get scared when I remember stories I've been told of aggressive moose.  I don't know anything about moose.  Was it just out for a dip to cool off?  Or was it coming to check me out?  Are they territorial?  What are you suppose to do if you encounter a moose?

I dart back to my campsite and hide in my hammock.  Maybe it won’t find me. 

Nothing bad has ever gotten through my camo cuben fiber fortress.

7:26 PM
I feel silly being afraid of a moose, so I creep back down to the lake.  The moose is still swimming but now down-lake, making a wide circle back to the far shore.  It leaps up on the bank and disappears into the brush.

8:12 PM
The lake grows calm as the sun goes down.  Mating dragonflies buzz by.  Everything is beautiful and eerie.

Smoke hangs low between the mountains.

8:25 PM
Why aren't there other people here?  I’ve see no one else all day.  Isn’t this suppose to be the height of tourist season in Glacier National Park?

This is only my third solo backpacking trip in Montana.  Last year I camped countless nights solo on the PCT solo.  Why does it feel so uncomfortable to be solo out here?  I wish Arizona were here.  I wish anyone were here.  I wish I had other hiking friends in Montana.  I wish this place weren't so freakin gorgeous and wild.  That the views didn't bring me to tears and the climbs didn’t make my heart sing.  I wish this place didn't make me FEEL so much passion and longing and heart wrenching fear.  I wish I weren't so curious to learn Montana’s secrets: why the moose swims, where to goats are, where the loon disappears to.

I climb into my hammock.  Everything smells like dirty hiker.  It is the same stuff I had on the PCT.  My long underwear has holes from when I got scared going down Glen Pass and slid on my butt.  I sigh at how many times I've been scared.  Why do I keep putting myself in situations where I'm so uncomfortable?

12:00 Midnight
I awake to breaking branches and rustling too big to be a chipmunk.  It’s getting closer so I try not to breathe.  Images of the bear and moose swirl in my head.  Please don't let claws slice through my tarp.  The rustling moves past.  My watch says exactly midnight, how horror movie corny. 

12:43 AM
I remain awake listening to the silence.  Trying to convince myself the sounds are a large bunny, plump with huckleberries.  Being out here alone makes life vivid and real.  I have to quiet the fears, trust my instincts, tune into this place.  I count the sounds around me, slow my pulse, pull my quilts around me, and fall asleep again.

After surviving encounters with bears, moose, dragonflies, and loons, my last feat is to ford the mighty Middle Fork of the Flathead River.

5:30 AM
I realize with the clarity of morning that the battle is "Joan vs Joan's Fears" rather than "Joan vs Beasts".  What's scary is the prospect of giving up on Montana, of finding it too exhausting to be in the home of these large (and small) creatures, or of deciding it's not worth pushing beyond the comfort zone.

For more information 
Harrison Lake in Glacier National Park: Pick up directions to the ford from the backcountry permit office in Apgar.  From the ford, it is a brushy 6.3 miles to the Harrison Lake campground, following the Boundary Trail and then turning off onto the Harrison Creek Trail.  Permits are required.  Walk-in permits are easy to come by when there are fires everywhere.

Check out Glacier’s Citizen Science Program. 

My first grizzly

Two panicking women come RUNNING down the trail towards us yelling, "GRIZZLY!"  Sure enough, behind them was the bear, making his was down the Highline Trail behind them.

My first time seeing a grizzly bear, and it was off to a bad start.

I'm sure you all know that RUNNING from grizzlies is pretty much the worst thing you can do.  Getting the women to calm down and stop running was critical.

Fortunately, I was out doing a mountain goat survey with an experienced Glacier National Park Citizen Science volunteer.  She is a mountaineer and extremely knowledgeable about Glacier wildlife. 

We got everyone together, and started backing down the trail, talking in calm voices.  But the bear just kept coming down the trail towards us. 

I did not get a photo in the moment, but my drawing is totally accurate.

For those of you that know the Highline, we were about three miles from Logan Pass, on our way to Haystack Butte to do a mountain goat survey.  The trail is narrow and we were on a steep slope.  But we backed to where there was a place we could scramble up the scree to make way for the grizzly. 

The volunteer I was with kept everyone behind her and her bear spray outstretched while we tried to keep everyone calm.  She is one brave, awesome women!

There was a long moment where time stopped when the grizzly got close to us.  Was he going to charge us?  Where the panicking women going to start running again?  We were all relieved when the grizzly just kept moving on down the trail.   I never ever want to get that close to a grizzly again. 

The coolest thing was that the Citizen Scientist I was with was a special VIP volunteer and had a radio so she phoned the rangers to alert them to the bear. The rangers asked us if we would follow the bear to keep people away from our side and monitor where the bear went, while they sent a ranger up the trail from the other direction.  So, we abandoned our goat survey, and turned around to follow the bear at what we hoped was a safe distance.

On the Highline Trail with one awesome volunteer.

As we made our way after the bear (staying in radio contact with the ranger), we passed what seemed like a hundred people coming up the trail, and got their reports.  The bear was sticking to the trail.  Occasionally he’d get off to pass people, but mostly folks did what we did and scrambled aside for him.  What was alarming was how many of the people didn’t have bear spray.  Worse, a few were total idiots, not respecting the bear, and acting like they were in a zoo. 

Finally, we met up with the ranger.  The ranger told us that when the grizzly saw him coming up the trail, the sight of his gun made the bear finally run off the trail down the slope.   Rangers use special non-lethal bullets to haze habituated bears.  Apparently, this grizzly knew the drill.

This great park ranger took time to show us the special rubber bullets he uses and to educate everyone about grizzlies.  I really appreciate his hard work!

Overall, it was an eye-opening experience for me.  I was really glad I was with such a knowledgeable person who kept a level-head.  I think that the biggest risk was from being around other hikers that behaved so irresponsibly.  The grizzly was just wanting to travel on the trail.  It was sad that he was habituated.  But it was obvious that this was a product of the irresponsible behavior of the other visitors, and the fact that this area is so crowded. 

Afterwards, we went to Hidden Lake to do a mountain goat survey there.  We saw a bunch of mountain goats, but all I got was a photo of flowers.

For more information:
High Country Citizen Science Program at Glacier
Glacier National Park's info on bears

Would you camp here?

As I descended to my campsite by the lake, I met campers who'd stayed there the previous night.

Descending to Lake Ellen Wilson Campsite, where I had a permit to camp.

“We watched a grizzly bear all night and this morning on the far shore,” they said, “But it never came to the campsite.”

“But you should be more worried about the mountain goats.  They harassed us all night.”

What would you have done?

Mountain Goats are neat... especially when they are this far away.

I turned around and hiked back out to my car and drove home.  I didn’t want to have goats rustling around my campsite all night long, stealing my hiking poles and shoes to get at my salt.  I didn’t want to be alone in a valley with a grizzly bear.

I like to give animals their space. When I'm not constrained by having to camp in a permited site, I always find campsites that are far from any signs of animals, and if I see lots of scat, I'll just keep hiking. Even if it's something completely harmless like deer. It's my way of being respectful.

The thing that is so tough for me is that some animals in Glacier are acclimatized to humans. I feel much more comfortable around wild-acting animals. Shoot even the begging ground squirrels make me uncomfortable, how they lung at you, how they remind me that we humans are having such a huge impact on these animals. How we've encroached on their land and the few spaces they have left, we come and fed them and disrespect their wildness.

I guess I should have done more research about where to camp.  I'm trying to figure out how to be in Montana.

Mountain goat on the trail.

This hike was in Glacier National Park:
Starting at Lake McDonald Lodge, I hiked up the Gunsight Pass trail past Sperry Chalet to Lake Ellen Wilson.  And retraced my steps back.