Bear-anoia

Bearanoia (substitute 'bear' for 'par' in paranoia; noun): A condition afflicting those who have unexpectedly come across a bear while romping in the wilderness. People with bearanoia often mistake the sounds other forest creatures and the wind for an approaching attacking bear. Signs of severe bearanoia include talking and singing loudly while hiking, excessive hand-clapping, accelerated heart rate, and general jumpiness.


Driving from Butte towards Glacier National Park the sky stretches out in front of you the same way it does in the midwest, but the mountains framing its edges somehow change the curvature. Beware of the following cliche, but it really is Big Sky country- the vast blue sky just feels bigger.

We entered the west side of the Glacier, Tuesday, Aug. 18 and began driving towards the glaciers on the other side of the park via the Going to the Sun road that winds up the valley and along steep cliffs before reaching Logan Pass and plunging down to the east-side of the park.

On our way up the valley, we got a campsite on the shores of Lake McDonald and went for a short hike on the Cedar forest nature trail.

Wednesday morning we woke early to ascend the Loop trail (4 miles and 2200 feet elevation gain) to reach the Highline trail near Granite Chalet (a backcountry hike-in lodge for overnight guests) and traverse its 8 miles to Logan Pass. The sun had barely come up into the valley so we were hiking in cool shadows. The views were largely unobstructed as a 1967 fire had left just a skeleton of a forest all around us and some waist high brush.

Glacier National Park has bears: both Grizzly and Black. When hiking in Bear Country it is advisable to make lots of noise so as to never surprise a bear. Bear bells are insufficient so talking, occasionally shouting, and clapping hands were our strategies. At first we felt silly, but soon enough we didn't care that other hikers heard us as long as the bears did too.

Within 1/2 a mile of the start we spotted brush moving about 50-yards off the trail up-slope from us. Indeed it was a Grizzly. We were suddenly much more awake, our pulses racing knowing that we were less than half the advisable distance from this enormous furry animal. We clapped, shouted, and attempted to remain calm as we backed up the trail and fearfully watched to see what the bear would do. Though we're sure it must have spotted us long before we saw it, we were apparently not the least bit interesting to it. It was alone and focused on engulfing whole branches of ripe huckleberries with its huge mouth.

Maybe we should have retreated to the trailhead and found something else to do with our day, but we decided to quickly move past him. As we hustled past the bear seemed to grow bigger but continued placidly devouring huckleberries.

After this encounter, our bearanoia was in full effect. Large rocks became suspect. Squirrels rustling in bushes snapped our heads around. A report from some other hikers of a sow and two cubs "up ahead somewhere" did not help and we clapped with increasing frequency employing rocks to bang together--more sound and less sting than smacking your palms together.

We did not see any other bears that day, but there was a minor show-down with a Mountain goat momma and her kid (see "Crazy creatures and wee beasties" post).

The views were gorgeous. Here are a couple more pics: