Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Bearmageddon

After entering Shenandoah National Park at its northern tip, we began to leisurely drive the 50 miles south to our accommodation at Big Meadows Lodge. We had most of the day to do this and planned for a few small hikes along the way, really just to stretch our legs after a few days in the car.

Our first stop was at the Dickey Ridge area, where we strolled along the 2-kilometer Fox Hollow Trail past the remnants of old homesteads and a cemetery. I'd pulled up with a sore shoulder after either our Mount Le Conte hike or cycling through Cades Cove, so we wore our backpacks just to see how I'd manage. We may have looked like idiots, but the pack felt great and we were excited about the rest of the day.

The next stop was Mathews Arm campground, from where we decided to tackle the 8-kilometer Knob Mountain circuit.

The big loop on the left
We should have known this trail was a bad idea the moment Daniel nearly stepped on a snake while walking down the road to the trailhead. We'd only just got over instinctively watching for snakes as we do back home. It barely twitched but the little bugger was definitely alive; it was holding its head taught, ready to strike. Daniel's lucky it was feeling lazy, because he couldn't have been any closer to it. We think it might have been a Copperhead, one of two kinds of venomous snakes within the park (the others being Rattlesnakes). It let us get surprisingly close, and apparently freezing is a typical behaviour because their camouflage is so good.


After a short stretch on a fire road, we turned onto Knob Mountain Trail proper. The area was forested and the trail was cool and shady. We passed a handful of other hikers, but otherwise the trail was quiet. Maybe a mile or two down the trail Daniel, who was plodding along in front of me, paused, took a step backwards and threw his arm out to stop me from continuing on. "There's a bear" he whispered (I may have left out the expletive). Some 40 to 50 meters ahead of us, plodding along the trail was a large black bear. We'd been talking and clapping, hooting and hollering as we walked, so he definitely knew we were around. After watching him for maybe 5 seconds, he lackadaisically sauntered off the side of the trail and disappeared. It was all very civilised, and this is what I meant when I said they're not usually aggressive, at least if they know you're there and you're not too close. It was the perfect bear encounter for hikers, and we were stoked.

The only problem was that he'd disappeared out of our line of sight, and we didn't know where or how far he'd gone. Turning back seemed the safest option. Soon enough a couple of hikers came through from the other direction. We waved and yelled to let them know we'd just seen a bear near where they were walking, and they just looked at us like we were a couple of crazy skips who'd never been in this part of the woods before. Fair enough. Continuing on, we came across another couple. "Keep an eye out" I said, "we've just seen a bear on the trail maybe a mile up". The male hiker let out a hearty laugh and replied, "well now you've seen three bears, because our surname is Bear." It's always nice to meet an American with a sense of humour.

We kept going, pausing only to share a bagel and cream cheese for lunch. The loop covers multiple trails including a mile or so on the Appalachian Trail, which runs for 3500 kilometers from Georgia to Maine. I read Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods a couple of years back - despite hiking the trail in its entirety, he didn't see one bear.

Walking, walking, walking, we knew we were getting close to the Elkwallow trail head when I spotted something moving in the bushes ahead of us and stopped. The trail curved to the side to go around a rise, and on that rise, through the trees and shrubs, I could see a bear. "It's small, looks like a cub" I said to Daniel, who replied "Nah, it's big, definitely adult". We were looking through different parts of the thicket, and he was watching Mama Bear. I don't know how close we were at this point, but it was a safe distance. Due to our being deliberately noisy as always, they were aware of us and kept turning back to check us out. After a minute or so we could see them politely wandering away - it looked as though they were heading off to the side, down the opposite slope of the rise.

We kept talking so they could hear us, before deciding to press on after a few minutes of loitering. The trail curved around to a stone staircase, and there was much less visibility than desired. However, based on our earlier encounter, we assumed all would be honky dory. In slow motion we walked up the steps, talking the whole while. At the top of the stairs and a few steps onto the trail we let out a sigh of relief, only a second before catching sight of Mama Bear and cub looking down at us from a tree, MUCH too close for comfort. After staring at each other momentarily, dumbfounded, Mama Bear started scrambling down the tree, presumably at us. I think we may have actually discovered the elusive drop bear? We backed out of there pretty darn quick, still talking so she could hear us getting further away.

All of this, and I didn't get one decent photograph. I only managed to capture a couple of black shapes through the trees, and a very blurred shot which I think shows the beginnings of Mama Bear's descent from the tree. However, I assure you that the memories are forever imprinted in both our minds and our underpants.



At this point we were far from cool, calm and collected as we had been originally. Our nervous systems had gone haywire, and we still had to get the hell out of the woods somehow. Mama Bear was too mad for us to consider trying to go forwards again, and there were no other hikers around, so we started to double back. Every squirrel, every spider web made us jump. To make things worse, we were acutely aware that by this time it was bear o-clock (late afternoon, early evening), and we had no idea how long it was going to take us to find a safe route out. I suppose this is exactly why you're always told to pack extra water, food and clothing.

Earlier we'd passed a parking lot next to where the Appalachian Trial crosses Elkwallow Trail. Worse case scenario, we could hike all the way back to there, probably two miles from where we'd been forced to turn around. But of course we were now going the wrong direction, and the further we went, the further we'd have to double back again. Eventually the trail got close enough to the road for us to scramble up a rocky bank and edge out onto the roadside.

We relaxed a little then and started to trudge back towards where our car was parked. I seriously considered trying to hitch a lift, and if a ranger had driven past, I would have. Walking along the roadside isn't much fun either - the road is windy and the cars drive quicker than they should. Most of the bends had small stone retaining walls that we stepped onto and used to keep our distance from the cars. We kept making as much noise as our dwindling energy stores allowed - after all, we'd seen two bears on the roadside in Glacier National Park.


Maybe halfway along the road, while walking along one of those walls, I turned my head toward to the forest and found myself face to face, at eye level, with a baby bear up a tree. Remember those little koala toys that had bendy limbs you could wrap around your finger? He was just hanging there, exactly like that. All I could think was "where's Mum" and I flew off the stone wall and into the road. Luckily there wasn't a car coming. He wasn't particularly impressed either, and as soon as we'd made eye contact he scampered straight back down that tree as if it were a fireman's pole.

This was getting beyond a joke, and we just had nothing left in us. When we finally reached our car we didn't know whether to laugh or cry in relief. We kicked off our shoes and scoffed down some food. We hadn't eaten nearly enough. The eight kilometers had unwittingly turned into more than sixteen.


As you can see above, Daniel had actually been tracking the hike on Strava, a GPS application. This shows you exactly how close we were to the trailhead when we ran into Mama Bear and her cub. Should we just have waited longer and tried to push through? I don't know. Nor do I know if we'll be hiking tomorrow.

I waited until we were safely in the car and on our way before I bashfully confessed to Daniel that this had all been my fault. You see, after the first bear on the trail, I'd spent some time quietly musing to myself that there were only two things we were yet to see. Yep, you guessed it. Bear cubs and bears in trees. My bad.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Bolting Along the Blue Ridge Parkway

The Blue Ridge Parkway runs for 755 kilometers through North Carolina and Virginia, between Great Smoky Mountains National Park to the south and Shenandoah National Park to the north. It's supposed to be slow, scenic driving, winding atop the mountains. Instead, we drove the whole thing in less than two and a half days.



The views are undeniably gorgeous, but they're homogenous, and after a couple of days we actually started to get a little bored. The view from the top of Mount Mitchell, the highest peak east of the Mississippi River, is particularly outstanding. Or so we've been told.


Despite being engulfed in clouds and caressed by freezing winds, we walked up to the viewpoint, deserted but for a couple conversing in a strangely familiar accent. I asked where they were from. "Australia", they replied in unison, their hands in their pockets and their shoulders hunched against the cold. "Well yeah, which part?" At this point they realised and laughed, before saying "you first". I ventured "Perth" and they countered with "formerly Perth, now Australind". Turns out they lived in Wembley Downs. You can't make this up.





An hour or so of our final afternoon on the Parkway was whiled away at an overlook, our legs dangling off the edge of the wall and the sun warming our backs. A series of strong thermals were dancing up out of the valley, and we were treated to a paraglider and a hanglider setting up their gear before soaring off in quick succession.

Biltmore Estate

George Washington Vanderbilt II bilt Biltmore at the end of the 19th century while still a bachelor. I'm not quite sure how he was planning to use its 250 rooms, but I'm quite sure that this show of extravagance was exactly the point.

Biltmore
Located in Asheville, North Carolina, and still owned by his descendants, it's the largest privately owned house in the country. When GWV II's only child, Cornelia, died in 1976, her eldest son got to choose between the house or the estate. He chose the estate, which was the more profitable of the two at the time. I've no idea how the estate is faring now, but the house receives nearly a million visitors a year, each paying up to $60 just to get onto the property.

You may have seen the house in one of many movies including Richie Rich and Forrest Gump. We took a tour through the interior but weren't allowed to take photos. Not that this stopped a middle-aged American woman wearing tucked-in double denim and sporting the best bleached blond mullet you'll never see.

The most amazing feature of the house is its 265 cubic meter indoor swimming pool, which used to be pumped full of water from a nearby natural source. Given the lack of filtration or chlorination, it would be filled on demand, used and then drained. It even had underwater lighting, which is quite extraordinary given that plenty of folks probably didn't even have electricity at that point in time.

The extensive gardens around the house were designed by Frederick Law Olmstead, considered the father of American landscape architecture. Amongst his most famous creations is Central Park in New York City.

Gardens
Once you've paid your entry fee, there are plenty of restaurants, shops and activities to keep your wallet busy. We settled for a couple of ice-creams for the long hot walk back to our car (there was a shuttle if you didn't want to attempt the five minute stroll).

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough
Luckily we didn't order double scoops, because the servings shown above are supposedly single scoops. How that's even possible, I don't know. It must increase the demand for the shuttle bus.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Things We Wish We'd Never Eaten #2.3: The Little House of Pancakes

The Little House of Pancakes in Gatlinburg should actually be known as the Little House of Not-So-Little Pancakes. Still famished from our hike the previous day and further exhausted from attempting Le Tour de Cades Cove, we stopped in here just before closing time for a late lunch (and an early heart attack).



Pancakes (and especially waffles) seem to have a close synergy with fried chicken in the south of this country. Don't ask me why. I think I got through one of the pancakes, maybe one and a half. Daniel polished off his fried chicken, doused in smoky BBQ sauce, and also managed a couple of free soda refills.


On a side note, you may notice that Daniel is growing a beard after deliberately "forgetting" to pack a razor. It has white whiskers and ginger streaks in the cheeks. Enough to put anybody off pancakes.

Cycling in Great Smoky Mountains National Park: Cades Cove

Every Wednesday morning Cades Cove Loop Road is closed to car traffic to allow cyclists free reign through this scenic valley. Daniel is never going to pass up an opportunity to pedal, so we hired single-speed bikes and sped off into the morning fog. Except we slowed down pretty quick. Turns out there isn't much juice left in one's legs the day after climbing a mountain. And the bikes were as stiff as our knee joints.

Magic
This hill was bigger than it looks, ok?
The loop isn't overly steep but there are more than a few rolling hills. In particular, there are two which you're supposed to walk your bike down. Naturally we ignored this sage advice. There would have been no dramas had Daniel not decided to lay down a skid of epic proportions (his words) halfway down. He managed to keep control for a few seconds before drifting sideways down the wet road, finishing upright but facing the wrong way and in the bushes. The GoPro was filming from my head, so he was pretty chuffed. Come to think of it, that was probably the reason he attempted this display of prowess (his words) or idiocy (my words) in the first place...

Challenge accepted...
The loop weaves through forests and meadows, and passes by a number of historic buildings which reflect pioneer life in 19th-century Appalachia. Interestingly though, they don't reflect the area when the park was chartered in 1934. The residents of Cades Cove were strongly resistant to the park's creation, and their properties were eventually seized by eminent domain. By this time, most of the locals were living in modern frame residences rather than the log cabins which have been preserved.

Old Homestead
On the Tennessee side of the Smokies (the park straddles Tennessee and North Carolina) there are two main gateway towns: Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. These have to be two of the most bizarre places we've visited. The main street of Gatlinburg looks like this: candy store, novelty t-shirt store, gaming arcade, ice-cream store, Ripley's attraction, and then just repeat. Four or five times. It's the strangest adjunct to an area of outstanding natural beauty. It seemed to be just as much of a tourist attraction as the park itself, although who knows for what reasons. We did play mini golf though. I won, just in case you didn't assume.

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Things We Wish We'd Never Eaten: #2.2: Pack Lunch

You know what? This was one of our best meals to date, because god damn did we earn it. At Le Conte Lodge we were able to purchase pack lunches for $10 a pop, which is a pretty great amenity given that all supplies have to be carted up the mountain on llamas. We collapsed on their deck and devoured every last bit.

$10 well spent
Full of hearty, high-calorie hiking food, the pack contained a bagel and cream cheese, oreos, trail mix, fruit leather, a Gatorade sachet and beef summer sausage. Yes, you read that right, beef summer sausage. This tasty little treat was basically a cured concoction that may once have resembled meat and did not require refrigeration until opened. And yes, we were that hungry.

Hiking in Great Smoky Mountains National Park: The Conquest of Le Conte

It's quite confronting to get off a plane from the Midwest and suddenly find yourself in the South. It's even more confronting to arrive at your bed and breakfast accommodation in rural Tennessee to discover that the owner and his wife spent the 1980s living and lecturing in Perth. It's a really small world. This is the other side of the coin - it seems as though everyone we meet falls into one of two categories. Either they've never met an Australian, or they've visited or lived in Perth. On our third day of the trip we were at RadioShack buying a SIM card for our phone, and we answered the clerk's ubiquitous question with "Perth, Western Australia". Straight away, the guy behind us pipes up "oh yeah, Fremantle, Little Creatures." Turns out he spent some time working at a brick factory in Malaga.

The Smokies are our second National Park of the trip, and these mountains are very different to Glacier. For a start it's about 30 degrees and 80% humidity here. Perfect hiking weather. That was sarcasm, yeah? We threw ourselves straight back into left-foot-right-foot with perhaps a little more gusto than was wise.

After a sickly-sweet southern breakfast of orange marmalade french toast (carb-loading), we set off to summit Mount Le Conte via the Alum Cave Trail. It's an 18 kilometer round trip that gains nearly a kilometer in elevation, and it has a difficulty rating of 'strenuous'. As proof of this, I have a photo of me in which I'm the same colour as my shirt. And I was only halfway up. Needless to say, that photo won't be getting published.

Coral...
Sadly the trail wasn't as serene as we would have liked, as there were a few youth groups marching up carrying people on stretchers, presumably as a team building exercise. Although their relentless chanting and boundless enthusiasm was aggravating, I'll admit it was a pretty mammoth effort. I could barely carry myself up to the top. It took us two hours and forty-five minutes to reach the 2010 meter summit, against a guide time of three to four hours. We were stoked with that result. Our legs were not. But, as expected, the views were in line with the sense of achievement and in hindsight it was so worth it, although there were points along the way where I wondered.



At the top of the mountain is Le Conte Lodge, which was established in 1925. You can stay in one of the cabins up there, but you need to make reservations well in advance. We made do with a couple of rocking chairs on the deck and a pack lunch. It was blissful. Significantly colder at such altitude, it was also easy to imagine how quickly sweat-drenched hikers can succumb to hypothermia.

Top of the World at Le Conte Lodge
The descent took less than two hours but wasn't actually much easier than going up. Lots of hikers have walking poles, of which I'm often quite envious, but we're usually 20-30 years younger than those hikers, so a cup of toughen-up is what Danny suggested for me instead.

I know we seem to be spending a lot of time out in the woods, and we are, but I want to reassure you that we're never too far from 'civilisation'. Just in case you don't believe me, here's proof in the form of a drive-through discount cigarettes and beer store.

Our Hire Car
 Coolest thing we've seen so far?

The Mall of America

Just imagine a deep booming voice welcoming you to MALL OF AMERICA, the real reason we came to Minnesota. We're not alone in our lunacy; the mall receives 40 million visitors each year (more than twice the number of visitors to downtown Minneapolis and St Paul), making it the most visited shopping center in the world. Why, you ask? Well, for a start, it has a gross area of 96.4 acres. Nearly half of that is retail space for the 530 stores that give the Mall of America the distinction of having more vendors than any other shopping mall in the United States. Then there's the reason it all exists in the first place, the fact that there is no sales tax on clothing or shoes in Minnesota.

Mall of America
We did pretty well in that regard. Stuff is so cheap over here to begin with, remove the tax and it almost feels as though you're stealing. For example, Daniel's choice sneakers cost between $180 and $220 back home. He picked up a pair here for $80. As you'll note below, they're lovely and garish. It's very American to strut around in shorts and pristine bright white sneakers, so throw in the trucker cap he picked up in Montana and he fits right in.

Haul
Speaking of fitting right in, we're starting to find ourselves unconsciously mimicking American accents. Especially here, where people speak with such a Germanic drawl. Large numbers of Scandinavian and German immigrants moved to these northern states in the late nineteenth century, resulting in a dialect known as North-Central American English, or the Minnesota Accent. Certain vowels sound so familiar that we mirror them in conversation without intending to. That said, still nobody can understand a thing we say. We usually have to repeat ourselves - the first time around they're more interested in the accent than the content. Apparently "nobody comes to Minnesota", so we're quite the novelty. For two very shy people, we actually enjoy this immensely. We've found that being off the beaten path is much more conducive to conversation and cultural exchange than visiting, say, New York City or Los Angeles.

Now, back to business. Did I mention that the largest indoor amusement park in the United States is located smack bang in the middle of the Mall of America? Danny was giddy like a kid in a candy store. Inside an amusement park. Inside a shopping mall.


Dannytello (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Ride)
Lego Transformer and Amusement Park
We did, of course, ride a couple of the roller coasters. It was here we met the first person to be unimpressed by our Australian origin. The kid next to us in line very kindly asked if we wanted to share a row of seats, even though Danny warned this kid that he screams like a girl. "Are you Packers fans?" he asked, referring to Wisconsin's Green Bay Packers (NFL). When we responded that no, we weren't from around here, he narrowed his eyes and glared at us with a level of suspicion and contempt unbecoming of a ten-year-old. He didn't say anything but "Go Packers" for the rest of the ride, and departed without so much as a goodbye.

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Things We Wish We'd Never Eaten #2.1: Fro Yo

Apologies - I didn't quite know how to number this post. I wanted to keep the old series alive but at the same time be clear that this is v2.0. It looks messy, but so be it.

Frozen yoghurt. We know it as fruity stuff that comes in tubs in lieu of ice-cream. It's posited as a healthier option, but you deliberately avoid looking at the nutrition label anyway. In America, frozen yoghurt is an altogether different institution.

A Coma in a Cup
Step 1: Grab your overly large cup and choose your fro yo base. If you're feeling virtuous, your choices include 'tart', which I presume is natural yoghurt. But, let's be honest, nobody outside of Los Angeles is choosing that, and it was tucked away in the farthest corner. Other options included vanilla, chocolate and strawberry cheesecake. They're located in pairs, and a middle lever will combine them for you (because to have to pull two separate levers would expend far too many calories).

There was, and I'm not making this up, a lever labelled 'cake batter'. Even Danny and I have boundaries, so we didn't confirm this concoction, but I wouldn't be surprised. It was paired with cookies and cream. We stuck with vanilla and chocolate.

Step 2: Toppings. This is the fun part. Yeh, there's a fruit section. Presumably that's for the people who get 'tart' yoghurt, but I was quite impressed to see fresh raspberries. Gummi bears, sprinkles, skittles, m&ms, choc chips, oreo, cookie dough and reese's pieces, now THAT'S where it's at.

Step 3: Weigh and pay. It's almost a double entendre.

What Ya'll Doin' in Minnesota?

This seems to be the standard reply when people in Minneapolis find out we're from Australia. I don't think many Aussies make their way to this part of the world.

The Amtrak train we took from Seattle is a route called the Empire Builder, and as it continues east from Whitefish it skirts the southern border of Glacier NP. A day and a half later it terminates in Chicago. We got back on the train in Whitefish but, having already been to Chicago, decided to disembark in the Twin Cities instead.

Something we love about long, scenic Amtrak routes is the running commentary provided by on-board National Park Rangers. As we left Seattle and wound alongside waterways, through forests and over mountains, we'd been regaled with information about the history, geology and ecology of the area. However, for some reason, the commentary in Montana was only provided within the Lounge Car, and our chances of getting a seat were nil. Bizarre, given that they sell the park as the highlight of the route.

Avoiding Chicago wasn't the only reason we stopped in Minneapolis; it's home to the Mall of America (more on that later) as well as Target Field, which has been ranked by ESPN as the number one baseball stadium experience in North America. Finals were well underway last time we were in the states, so we'd not seen a MLB game.

Target Field
We rectified that on our first night here, when the Minnesota Twins lost dismally to the Toronto Blue Jays. Turns out the team isn't as good as their stadium.

Strike
Cheese?
That said, we don't go to sports games for the sports. We don't even go for the cheese fries served in a miniature helmet. At least I don't - I won't speak for Danny. The atmosphere and the people are the real draw cards. We got lucky here and ended up sat next to a hunting taxidermist from Wisconsin and a local firefighter-slash-lumber salesman. Neither had met an Australian before, and couldn't quite believe what they were seeing or hearing. Our firefighter friend was so enamoured with us he invited us to live in his basement. They bombarded us with questions throughout the game, bought us beers, and we literally had them and their friends chanting Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi by the end of the second innings.

The icing on the cake (or the cheese on the fries) was making a brief appearance on the big screen during dance cam. In the interests of full disclosure, we may have been riding the coattails of a kid doing a pretty sick sprinkler two rows in front.  

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

GNP Day 3: Clouds and Avalanches

Our third and final day in Glacier National Park. I'll keep this short - I really just want to share a few photos. After practically passing out the previous evening, getting out of bed was hard work but we actually pulled up pretty well this morning. The leg pain was only noticeable when walking downhill. A hearty hiking breakfast and we were good to go.

We drove to another part of the park known as Two Medicine, and encountered another black bear on the way. This time we had the telephoto handy, but we had to take pictures through the windscreen.




He was just hanging out by the roadside, getting his fill of huckleberries. Black bears are actually very timid and naturally afraid of humans. Nonetheless, there are strict rules about interacting with them, and hefty fines are enforced for doing the wrong thing. They become a sure danger only once they become used to humans and especially if they begin to associate hikers or campsites with food. The expression is that "a fed bear is a dead bear", and it's true - the rangers will sometimes have to kill bears that start stalking people for their food or hang around where they shouldn't.

Two Medicine was pretty, but we didn't stay for long as there was a storm rolling in.





Instead we drove back to St Mary for lunch. The food is beginning to gross us out. Particularly out in the wilds of Montana, if you're not in the middle of a city it's so hard to find anything that isn't deep fried or a burger. The serving sizes are monstrous. We need to start ordering from the children's menu.

Another drive across the Going to the Sun Road was in order, as we had to get back to Whitefish to hop back on the train the next morning. Some low cloud in the area made for some awesome views. At one point we were at an observation deck, looking at the view in the photo below. Less than four minutes later the cloud had surrounded us and visibility was only a few meters.



We finished off our time in the park with one last small hike. This one wove through forest at a much lower elevation, so it was humid enough to be unpleasant. After a couple of miles, however, we were rewarded with a view of the gorgeous Avalanche Lake. It was much more impressive than expected, which made up for the fact our shirts felt as though we'd fallen in.



Monday, September 9, 2013

GNP Day 2: Grizzlies and Glaciers

We stayed within the bounds of the park at Rising Sun Motor Inn, and it was so lovely rising at dawn as the sun began to wake the surrounding mountains. Cool, still and quiet; the only noise the crunch of our hiking boots on the road as we trudged to breakfast. 

Early Morning Photography at St Mary's Lake
Glacier National Park is home to an estimated 300 grizzly bears (ursus arctos horribilis), and I'd be lying if I said that wasn't part of the attraction. Nonetheless, I was understandably nervous about hiking in grizzy country. The risk of seeing a grizzly, let alone being harmed by one, is actually very small, particularly if you take the appropriate precautions. Hiking in a group, staying on trail and making lots of noise, especially when hiking into a headwind, near running water or rounding a blind corner, are key. As much as you might like to spot a grizzly, you certainly don't want to surprise a mama bear and her cubs. If all else fails, and you find yourself face to face with 300 kilograms of pure muscle, then you'll want to resort to bear spray.

Bear Spray
I had one of these babies holstered to my hip the whole time we were hiking. It's basically capsicum spray on steroids and has stopped a number of attacks in the past. Most of the time, an initial bear charge will be a bluff, designed to make you pee yourself. You have to stand your ground and not run away - if you do, they'll chase. Then you back away slowly.

In the case of a true charge, the bear spray has a range of 9 meters. Grizzly bears can run at over 60 kilometers per hour (Usain Bolt tops out at 43). Pop quiz: if the grizzly bear is charging you at 60km per hour, and you must discharge your spray when the bear is within 9 meters of you, how long between the bear being in range and your head being in its mouth? 0.54 seconds. Not much of a window. Scary.

We hiked the Grinnell Glacier Trail, which is just over 12 kilometers in length and gains 560 meters in elevation. There are 25 glaciers left in the park, and it is predicted that all will be gone by 2020.

Grinnell Lake
Contemplation




Grinnell Glacier
Downhill to Grinnell Lake
If you look at the photo above, we hiked to the glacier from the the middle lake. Plenty of switchbacks, lots of rocks and no grizzly bears. We did, however, see a moose!

Moose
At this point, our new telephoto lens had already paid for itself. The better part of a full day later, we made it back to the trailhead at Many Glacier Hotel exhausted and overheated. Have I mentioned how freaking hot it is over here? Northern Montana, high elevations, glaciers - we didn't expect it to be hitting 30 degrees.

We threw our packs in the boot of the car and started to drive back to our inn. Suddenly this gorgeous creature decided to pop out and say hello. The telephoto lens was, of course, in Danny's pack in the boot of the car. I jumped out, ran round and got it. Survived. Even though it's brown, this is actually a black bear - you can tell from its straight face profile, prominent ears and lack of a shoulder hump. Quite small, I suspect it was a female or a juvenile.

A Brown Black Bear
This made up for the lack of grizzly bears - am I crazy for being disappointed that we didn't see one!? I'd done a bit of bear research before leaving Australia, partly out of curiosity and partly in the interests of being informed. Among the articles I read was this one, about a grizzly attack in Glacier NP in 2005. I re-read it yesterday, and realised that it happened on the very Grinnell Glacier Trail that we had hiked.

Next time?