One website assures me “my chances of being murdered are 60,000 times greater” than being killed by a bear. I’m not sure if the author is taking into account that I live in Pueblo. Regardless, those statistics are reassuring, but they do not take into account that we’ll be the only ones from Pueblo on the GDT and there will be bears. Worried about bears, I consulted my friend and wilderness expert Jay. He provided sage advice: “the bear is digging for grubs when you come down the trail. He looks at you and then at the grubs – which does he choose”. With that in mind, I’m trying to lose my extra rolls of fat and won’t be wearing white spandex or anything else making me resemble a grub! But what about protection once avoidance fails?
Black bears rarely attack, and even when they do many “experts” say that fighting back may scare them away. On the other hand, with a grizzly bear, experts suggest playing dead if attacked. Apparently, while you might “just” get your arm torn off by punching a black bear, you might as well play dead with a grizzly and accept your fate. Colorado bears (regardless of color) are all Ursus americanus – the common black bear. However, Alberta, British Columbia, Montana and Wyoming also have Ursus arctos horribilis – the grizzly bear. Grizzly bears like to attack and tear you apart like a rabid dog tears apart a rag doll. OK, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but they have really big teeth, weigh nearly 1000 pounds and even their name is scary!
After “calling them in” – according to our boat guide (see last post) – with our bells, whistles and horns, the next question becomes how to protect ourselves from grizzly bears. My always reliable internet research unearthed an on-going debate about guns vs. bear spray. What little data exists seems to favor the bear spray. However, I’m not convinced that the bears didn’t publish the data since it is full of comments like: “spares the bear”. Regardless, since I’m not much of a shooter and carrying a handgun in Canada is asking for permanent residency, we will be using bear spray. Fortunately, I do have some experience with bear spray from a trip a few years back into the grizzly bear infested, wilds of Waterton National Park in Alberta.
This was a running not riding trip. In preparation I read through the “very” helpful and undoubtedly comprehensive information contained in the 2-page park brochure. I was then pretty sure I was ready for my wilderness run. Under the “wildlife encounters” section I was informed that to avoid bear encounters, travel in groups, talk and visit as you walk, don’t run, don’t startle bears and if all else fails and you run into a grizzly – play dead. It was apparent that my being alone, with no one to talk to and running down the trail might not be the best bear avoidance tactics. But the country was so incredibly beautiful I “overlooked” most of the recommendations and trusted in my ability to play dead. If playing dead failed, I was trusting my recent purchase of a new product called “Bear Spray”.
Crossing the bridge over Red Rock Canyon on an early (afternoon) start I was ready for anything with water bottle, practiced “dead” positions, and a small fire extinguisher sized can of “Bear Spray”. A few hundred feet down the trail I started to wonder about using the “Bear Spray”. If I did run into a bear, would I really have the wherewithal to use it properly?
Some “testing” seemed the best preparation. I carefully reviewed the instructions, unstopped the top, grabbed the trigger and took aim off the side of the trail. Whoosh – an incredibly loud sound accompanied a huge cloud of red spray out into the field. Terrified that the noise would attract an angry Park Ranger, I quickly put the can away and began running back up the trail.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t checked wind direction and I was soon reduced to a coughing/gagging/wheezing/crying mess stumbling down the trail after getting a “taste” of the Bear Spray. If a bear had half the reaction I was having, then the spray could easily save my life – assuming I didn’t get down wind again and die first. Stumbling into a nearby creek I flushed my face, eyes, nose and throat profusely and was almost able to see and breath again.
Fear of hitting the “cloud” behind me kept me moving forward up the trail, plus I was now an expert with Bear Spray. Within a mile I was confronted by something almost as dangerous as me – a bear about 100 feet away rearing up on his (could have been a her) hind legs. The next thought of course is grizzly or black bear? Unfortunately to the untrained eye that is a little like standing on I-25 in the dark and trying to decide if the headlights coming toward you are a car or a truck. Probably best to not wait and find out. Since the bear didn’t move, I kept moving further up the trail.
With my first bear sighting so early on I began to think pretty hard about my bear spray. How much spray was actually still in my canister? Had I used it all with the “test” spray? Would the second shot only go half as far? Would the bear run away if I just threw an empty can at it? For the next 25 kilometers to my destination and back these questions haunted my every step – especially as I stepped over pile after pile of bear poop.
Some might be interested to know what the run was like in terms of scenery, trail and conditions. I would like to know as well. Unfortunately, for the entire run I was too busy looking for friendly animals (travel in groups) singing songs out loud (talk to each other – or an imaginary friend), and yelling around every corner (don’t startle bears) to even notice much of where I was running. Actually, I did get a few glimpses of thick woods, crystal clear lakes and streams and snowfields on the sides of steep, rocky peaks – but jumping around like a scared jack rabbit every time a twig cracked or leaves rustled in the wind kind of limited the visual experience.
When I finally emerged back at the start, my voice was gone and my arms still burned from the practice spray. I had learned that while Ursus arctos horribilis is definitely a scary bear – the really scary bears are the ones you never see.
Grumpy Grandpa's Great Bicycling Adventures 