As a Los Angeleno spending a significant time in Montana one of the reasons for coming up here was to up my hiking and backpacking game. I’ve hiked quite a bit in Southern California but this isn’t an out and back in Runyon Canyon or a stroll through Topanga. This is the wilderness. This is putting your foot down on ground that many other creatures of Mother Nature call home. Some of which at best are scared of humans and at worst find them tasty.

The trail options here are virtually limitless. You could make your way across this vast state strictly on hiking trails. Trails across stretched prairies connect with trails over snow-covered mountain ranges which lead through miles of shaded, canopy-covered paths running parallel to flowing, white-watered rivers. Many without another person in sight. But if you’re going to hike in this part of the country you have to be aware: this is bear country.

Whoever the PR firm is for the bear, the bears are getting their money’s worth. Reminders that this is bear country are everywhere. Every summer activity guide has their “What to do if you come across a bear?” article. Every bookstore has multiple “When Grizzlies Attack!” books. Every sporting goods and outdoor gear store has bear spray for sale. If somehow you manage to avoid all of those, every trail has a large poster exclaiming “THIS IS BEAR COUNTRY” and letting you know that bears are “UNPREDICTABLE AND DANGEROUS!”

There’s no doubt bears are dangerous. But here’s the thing; Bears kill on average 1.3 people a year in the United States. One. Point. Three.  That’s at the bottom of the “humans killed by….” totem pole. Snakes are responsible for five deaths a year and dogs (THIS IS DOG COUNTRY!) kill on average 30. Bees kill another 55 and over 200 people die each year from riding horses. Paper cuts kill 3.7 (ok, I made that up) and vending machines kill 13 (didn’t make that up). It is statistically more likely that I will die driving to the trailhead than mauled by a bear. It is statistically more likely that I will die falling out of bed than mauled by a bear. I repeat the stat in my head. “Bears….. 1.3”. I might be the .3 but the 1? I’ve never been the one at anything in my life.

(While looking for statistics on bear attacks I came across this gem of an article on yellowstonepark.com. Be sure to read the last sentence of the last paragraph, I’ll keep that in mind while a grizzly detaches the flesh from my bones but doesn’t “eat” me)

With this statistical knowledge in mind the first person I tell about my quest is my sister. She has lived in Montana for 20 years and surely would take a rational view of my quest? Sort of. She initially laughs like I’ve told a semi-funny knock-knock joke but her laughter tails off in a sort of “uh, you sure you want to do that bro?” way. As if the vision of a bear mauling me passed through her head after fully comprehending my quest. I could quote her my “death stats” (my sister is an expert rider and owns a few horses but this doesn’t feel like the time to drop horse riding deaths as a pro for my argument) but the statistical truth of thousands of people killed in traffic accidents can’t overcome the horrific vision of one person, much less a relative, getting scalped by a six hundred pound grizzly. I then realize my sister might not have been the best person to run this by. One, she’s a worrier by nature and two; and probably the more important reason, a few years ago three people were attacked (one killed) at a campground she and her husband had camped at two weeks prior. That’s not “bear chasing you up a tree” close but still close enough to rattle anybody.

I decide the best course of action is to keep my quest to myself (and the internet of course!).

Having done my research and declared victory in the “stats vs fear” debate and any and all paranoia vanquished,  I type “grizzly attack” in the Google search bar to satisfy my morbid yet unshakeable sense of curiosity. Thirty minutes later I’m rethinking this whole dumb quest. The results of that search next time…..

RBB