National Parks and Bears

“A venturesome minority will always be eager to set off on their own, and no obstacles should be placed in their path; let them take risks, for godsake, let them get lost, sunburnt, stranded, drowned, eaten by bears, buried alive under avalanches - that is the right and privilege of any free American."

- Edward Abbey

The news last week seemed to be full of discussion about a mother grizzly bear who mauled a hiker in Yellowstone National Park and the park’s decision to not euthanize the bear. I first wish to express my sympathy for the family and friends of the lost hiker. I also wish to express that I feel the park service made the right decision given the circumstances. I too have stumbled upon a mother grizzly bear with cubs.

When the encounter occurred, I wondered about how it would end. Would it be a wonderful story for years to come about disaster avoided or were the clicks of my camera a final record of what went wrong on a hike in the woods. I thought of the three other people who had trusted me to guide them into the wilderness area. I thought about my family’s concern about the threat posed by bears and my dismissal of how big of risk it really was. I always believed it was more realistic to be worried about a broken ankle miles from the trailhead as compared to any threat from wildlife.

Our first spotting of the mother grizzly bear was on the outbound stretch of a out-and-back day hike. We saw the bear with cubs from some distance and watched as they spotted us. Slowly and without panic they went out of sight in the direction that we had come from. It was an almost ideal bear interaction as it was far away and ended quickly. However, even with this perfect sighting I began to have concerns. The bears had left in the same direction we had to hike to return to the trailhead. Another sighting was not only possible but likely.

My concerns turned out to be correct. As we finished the outbound section and began to return the way we had come my thoughts turned to the bear and her cubs. When we hit the meadow where we had last seen the bear my eyes began to scan the terrain. I unclasped my bear spray can and placed it into my right hand with my fingers on the safety release.

I knew other friends who were outdoor inclined that talked about never going into the wilderness without a firearm. I had always felt that was ridiculous and possible mechanical bravery that could result in either bears or humans being killed or mauled unnecessarily. I would be dishonest to say that at the moment we stumbled upon the bear for a second time, at this point a mere 25 feet from the mother, that I would not have been reassured to have a loaded firearm. I had test fired a inert can of bear spray before the trip and knew that, at most, I had five seconds of very cloudy spray to prevent a bear attack. If I were to use it effectively, I would have to have the nerve for a “whites of the eyes” moment. I slid the safety cap off and it hit the ground.

We had been following every rule of travel in grizzly country. Undoubtably at 25 feet the bear had heard us. However, as we froze where we were and prepared for an attack the bear never once looked at us. It passed without pause from our right, across the trail and downhill toward the left. In fact, we ended up having numerous times of being close to the bear after that simply because the bear was in no hurry and traveling the same direction we were. Our attempts forward were slow and loud followed by backing up once we could see either the bear or cubs in front of us. Once we were sure that the bear and cubs were on the same side of the trail and a comfortable distance away, we made a controlled sprint past the area. The danger had passed.

I have no doubts that chance played the difference between how my story and the unfortunate story in Yellowstone ended. I feel in retrospect it is clear to me that the bear I interacted with had certainly seen people before and was not afraid of them. The bear in Yellowstone, surprisingly, had not had these constant human interactions. Even if it had the same experience it still might have reacted the way it did. If bear research proves anything, it is that all bears are different.
It is with a very real understanding of the risks that I support the park service’s decision to not euthanize the bear. I too, as Edward Abbey so succinctly summarized above, believe we need places to take risks, live free of society and be humbled if even for a little while. It is a credit to the park and the practice of killing problem bears that the park managed to go 25 years without a death caused by bears.

It took me several trips to the West for me to truly wrap my mind around the idea that national parks are not outdoor theme parks. The cultural impact of Yogi Bear and developed campgrounds runs deep. That said, the emergency services at National Parks are second to none. Your chances of surviving an accident or wildlife encounter in a national park are without a doubt better than with any other land management agency due in no small part to the park service’s mission and budget.

There is risk in every step taken in wild places. It is out of a respect for existence that bears continue to roam the national parks. It is in some way unspoken that the reason people year after year put on a backpack and sojourn in the wilderness is to prove their ability to sustain themselves for a number of days based only on what they carried in on their back. What is maintained with the presence of wild animals is the opportunity to face an honest landscape and reep the risks as well as the rewards. A hike in the wilderness should never be allowed to become a bumper car experience.

I will end the post with Danielle Ate the Sandwich's song Public Property.