Grizzly bears are beautiful. 

From a distance. 

I’ve been closer to them than I wanted to be on a few occasions while trail running at Glacier National Park. But for the most part, I’ve avoided trouble because I do one thing well: Shout. 

When I say well, I mean I yell every minute or so as I’m running slowly along rocky paths. 

“Hey bear!” 

“Coming through bear!” 

“I’m here bear!” 

“Ho bear!”

While this could be a point of irritation for other hikers seeking solitude in the wilderness, I believe it is necessary. I certainly don’t want to surprise a grizzly, and trail running seems like a good way to do it. 

Once, about 20 years ago, on my way to Grinnell Glacier, I was doing my usual yelling when I came upon a ranger-led group.  

“You’re the one making all the noise?” the ranger asked.  

Guilty as charged. 

“We could hear you from way off.” 

She seemed more annoyed than appreciative.

About a week later, on that same trail, a man and his daughter hiking their way to Grinnell Lake were mauled by a grizzly with two cubs. Seems they surprised them. That is one of the biggest mistakes you can make, to surprise or come between a grizzly and her cubs. 

Shouting, I believe, keeps that from happening.  

I tell you this because a grizzly killed a Florida man recently while hiking at Glacier, headed to Mt. Brown Lookout, which is a steep, difficult route that sees a small number of takers. While this was tragic, it may have been a mistake to hike alone in the backcountry at this time of year, where grizzlies are emerging from hibernation. We must remember, this is their home.

I don’t know the circumstances of what happened. In my experience, based on decades of trail running at Glacier, most people hike quietly. I rarely hear another person yelling, “Hey bear!” I do sometimes hear the bells attached to shoes or hiking poles that are supposed to alert a bear to your presence. The problem with these is that they are not loud, and I would question whether they cause a bear to move on. They likely just arouse their curiosity. 

I’ve been told bears recognize human voices, so speaking loudly, even yelling, is the best way to avoid unexpected meetings in the mountains with them. 

I believe Glacier’s grizzlies are very tolerant of people.  

A few summers ago at Glacier, I unwittingly came within about 25 yards of a grizzly when I came around a turn. It was walking through the brush on the hillside above the trail, foraging, looking at the ground. Then, it turned its head and stared at me. Our eyes locked. I froze. Then, it decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. It turned and continued up the mountain.  

Another time, my sons and I were walking toward the campground when the oldest son suddenly stopped. A griz was about 10 feet off the trail. It looked enormous, with a monstrous profile. It stood strong and silent. We began to back up. If it had stepped out to the trail, who knows what would have happened? It turned and walked the other direction, leaving us alone.

And one time, while trail running alone to Iceberg Lake early in the morning to beat the crowds, I was passing through an area with thick brush on both sides. I felt uneasy. Nervous. I slowed down and heard something. Sticks breaking. Leaves crunched. Branches moved. Something big was there. I was more scared than at any time in my life. My heart was beating wildly as I pulled out my bear spray and slowly backed up. I stood, trembling.

I was sure a grizzly was about to step on the trail and charge.

I waited. 

And waited.

Nothing.  

Slowly, carefully, relieved, I began jogging away, looking back all the while. Nothing in pursuit. Thank God.

I took it slow and easy those final miles.

And I never stopped yelling.

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Bill Buley is managing editor of The Press. He can be reached at [email protected].