Night Of The Grizzlies
©Bert Gildart: Nineteen sixty seven was a dramatic time in Glacier National Park. Some of the park’s worst forest fires were raging, but what I remember most were the park’s first fatal grizzly bear maulings. I remember them because I was intimately involved, and this year, I’m remembering them as Backpacker Magazine is recalling them in their current issue. As well PBS is interviewing me—and others—asking us to recall our various involvements. They’re doing so now as this year marks the 40th year since those tragic times. Like most people, I don’t mind a bit of publicity, but am hoping the various publications will also focus on the good that came from these horrible tragedies. To some extent, that is what Jack Olsen did in his classic book, Night of the Grizzlies.
1967 Killer Bear, created by backcountry neglect
I was involved essentially because all permanent rangers were out fighting fires. In 1967 I was a road patrol ranger and though I wanted to be out fighting fire—and had asked for such consideration—the powers to be felt road patrol work was critical to visitor safety, and so my request was denied. As a result, I was one of the few rangers available when tragedy befell the two 19-year old girls.
On August 13, 1967, shortly after midnight I was piloting a huge truck over Logan Pass. Suddenly I heard a voice from Granite Park Chalet trying to reach headquarters, but failing because of poor transmission. Hearing the voice, from my location high up near Logan Pass, I served as a relay to headquarters, explaining medical attention was needed at Granite Park Chalet—that a young lady had been critically mauled…
That night I returned to my apartment in West Glacier about 3 a.m.
Several hours later, about 6:30 a.m., Norm Hagen, another seasonal ranger, woke me and said that I was needed immediately, that a young lady had been mauled at Trout Lake, and that I was to hike the four miles into Trout Lake and the Camas Creek drainage and see what I could find. Not surprisingly, I was confused, for I could not believe that yet another mauling had occurred. Sadly, Norm told me the young lady at Granite Park had died hours earlier.
Driving around lake McDonald to the trailhead I then rushed into Trout Lake and met Leonard Landa, who had left an hour or so prior to my departure. He was the seasonal ranger at Lake McDonald, and was waiting for some support before beginning a search. With my arrival and that of a helicopter flown in by John Westover who brought in the park’s engineer, Max Edgar, we formed an adequate search party. We all fanned out and began a search–hoping for the best.
Moments later, Leonard called out softly and announced that he had found the girl. We wrapped her in a body bag and Westover flew her out. The engineer left his rifle with me, and Leonard and I searched the valley for other campers and then provided an armed escort to the one remaining couple that we had located miles up the drainage.
Several days later, Leonard and I were dispatched to find the bear. We hiked back into the valley, then hiked up the Camas Creek drainage and spent the night in the park’s Arrow Lake Patrol Cabin. Early next morning (to make a long story short), I went outside to use the bathroom, and there, about 30 yards away, was a grizzly bear. I called for Leonard to bring out the rifles, and when the bear started moving toward us, we both fired. Both shots were fatal, one fired from a .300 H&H magnum, the other from a .30-06. A later evaluation of the bear confirmed we had shot the right bear (we’d been told to shoot any bear we saw, believing that any bear that didn’t run was a suspect bear). Later evaluation also revealed the bear had glass imbedded in its molars and that this was, in fact, a small emaciated 17-year-old sow, weighing less than 300 pounds.
Much the same thing was happening at Granite Park Chalet, though more bears were shot there as more bears had become “conditioned” to the presence of people.
About a week after the incidents, Ruben Hart, the park’s chief ranger and I flew by helicopter back to Trout Lake, and found so much garbage that the huge Hewey Helicopter didn’t have adequate space for just a single trip. In fact, many trips were subsequently required to clean up this backcountry campsite.
In fact, virtually all backcountry campsites had become dump grounds. Because of the conditions, these were tragedies just waiting to happen. In fact, the dual maulings created a national outcry demanding an evaluation of backcountry conditions, and the implementation of a Bear Management Plan, previously lacking.
At Granite Park Chalet, mangers there had been intentionally luring bears to the chalet to entertain guests. At the time, national park managers said they were unaware of the situation, but that was not the case, as David Shea, another seasonal ranger, and I had hiked to the chalet a week prior to the mauling, watched the feeding and reported on our findings to park headquarters. Others had done similarly.
With time the problems were corrected, and a bear management plan was implemented. Still, about ten years later, another mauling occurred, this time along Divide Creek near St. Mary. Once again, garbage was the culprit, and I focused on that for a major story I wrote for Smithsonian Magazine. The story also examined bear biology.
Today, the park has a well thought out management plan. In the broadest sense, the plan seeks to separate people and bears, and has mandates to help achieve that goal. For starters, regulations prohibit dogs from accompanying their owners into the backcountry. As well, they suggest people not hike alone, or if they do, make plenty of noise. The plan recommends women not hike during their menses. In 1967 all these factors now considered taboo were present. But at the time, no one had researched the delicate coexistence of man and bear.
The plan further specifies that bears that habitually frequent areas of human habitation are tranquilized and then relocated. If they return, they are euthanized. The plan requires that you suspend food some distance from your tent. Of course, I’ve only touched the surface, as you’ll discover if you visit any park service facility.
Is the Bear Management Plan working?
I think it is and when you consider that over 2-million people now pass through Glacier National Park annually, it’s to the park’s credit that most fatalities that do occur in the park are generally not from bear maulings. Stupid things do, however, still occur, and I’ve inadvertently been in situations where people have done unimaginable things, but by and large, the park is much safer today than it was 40 years ago—that awful Night of the Grizzlies.
July 2nd, 2007 at 2:06 pm
jst read this account of grizzly maulings in Glacier. In an amazing coincidence. My family and I had camped in Lake MacDonald on August l2th.1967 We left Glacier early Aug. l3 and did not hear of the maulings till we returned to Illinois 3 days later. It spooked us a bit.
jennie (Tim’s aunt)
July 2nd, 2007 at 2:08 pm
2/ How can I send this article to Tim’s cousin, Rob? Don’t know what website I’m on since Tim put this ‘quick link’ for me.
thanks. Jennie
June 4th, 2008 at 5:52 pm
I think it is sick that they would kill the poor bears, its thier turf that people keep tresspassing on, its just not fair, they existed here thousands of years befor us, if you get killed in bear country, its nobodys fault but your own, we are not gods!
June 4th, 2008 at 7:31 pm
Ryan, Things are much different now from the way they were back in 1967, when Leonard Landa and I were charged by Glacier to kill the offending bear. The bear we shot had been fed garbage and had lost its fear of people. Probably in part because of the garbage its teeth were worn and it had glass embedded between its molars. As a result of the above, the bear had lost its fear of people and had to be dispatched. This was a sad situation and the conditions of the times will probably never repeat themselves. Today there is a solid Bear Management plan and it is working well. That said, I understand exactly where you’re coming from and agree in principle. Thanks!
June 17th, 2008 at 12:18 am
Bert, I appreciate this account of that 1967 experience. Climbing that hill as part of the search party and finding Michele’s body, is as vivid in my memory as if it had happened just yesterday. I also remember that, earlier that morning, I had gone back to bed after flying Roy Ducat to the Kalispell hospital. I was soon awakened again with the announcement, “They found the girl!” (Julie Helgeson). When I landed at Granite Park Chalet, I learned that she had died just two minutes before I arrived!
Wow, what a night!
August 16th, 2008 at 6:03 pm
If I had known 1967 was to be the Summer of Love in San Francisco, I would never have applied for summer work in Glacier Park. I had just completed high school, and went to work as a waiter at Swift Current Motor Inn, about a mile away from a huge hotel (Many Glacier) that most tourists inhabited. Swift Current was at the end of the road, at the start of the main series of trails leading over the High Divide. So Many Glacier got the tourists from all over the globe, it was a huge hotel, while Swiftcurrent got most of the serious outdoors people—It was maily a group about 30 cabins with a sleazy, smallish dining room. The full name was Swiftcurrent Motor Inn.
During the days, I waited tables at Swiftcurrent Motor Inn. At night I was the keyboard player for a seriously middle of the road pop band at the big hotel about two miles south. I walked the distance between the two locations three to four times a week. It was kind of draining, but I was young, and I was having the time of my life. (My twelve string guitar was stolen from my cabin, but that was the only major bummer, until one night in the middle of August).
The end of the summer is fire season in most parks, and the summer of ’67 is still on record as one of the top five worst fire seasons in Glacier Park. By the end of July, the smoke was thick all over, and night was like the day, lit eerily by the red moonlight. It was totally bright out night after night, it was just like the day, except it was all red, and there was perpetual foggy haze of smoke. We breathed it for three weeks.
On this particular night, one of my musical nights, I was about halfway down the road from Swifty to Many Glacier. The weird light, the smoke and red haze. It was hard to see in distance. I was totally alone. No cars (a very isolated spot). I heard something in the woods to my right. And then the huge grizzly lumbered out onto the road no more than fifty feet from me.
We had been warned that the bears (browns and grizzlies) were being driven down from their usual spots because of the fires, and that they were likely to be looking for food anywhere they could find it in unusual places (trash dumps and the like).
At any rate, I immediately turned around and began walking very slowly and very quietly back toward Swifty. I could actually hear the grizzly’s claws on the pavement. I could tell it was about halfway across the road when it stopped. It apparently caught my scent, turned in my direction and began to slowly plod in my direction. Grizzlies can move very fast. As soon as I heard it change direction and pace I took off running as fast as I could, and the bear started sort of loping behind me. I doubt it saw me, but it smelled me.
It was at the point of panic the car actually did approach from behind the bear.(coming from Many Glacier). The driver saw what was going on, and hit the horn. The bear freaked out and headed back into the trees.
It was the only car I had ever seen in any of my walks to or from the hotel on countless evenings. If it hadn’t been on that night, just at that time, who knows what might have happened. It turns out that it was my boss returning from a business trip in Babb. He stopped of course. When I got in the door, I collapsed. He drove me back to the hotel where I was originally heading because they had rudimentary medical facilities. I was white as a sheet. They gave me oxygen.
I spent the night there recovering. And when I got back to Swiftcurrent the next day, I stayed in my cabin, and no one pried. Later on in the day I told everyone exactly what had happened.
But this not the end of the story.
The same night I was followed (chased?) by a grizzly, two girls (also employees at various locations in Glacier Park) were mauled to death, on the same night, twenty miles apart, by two different bears, while camping with groups.
There was actually a book about this night (not about my experience) called “Night of the Grizzlies.”
On…the…same…night. It totally freaked me right out when I heard this. A few of the rangers covering the Ganite Park Chalet incident were daily habitues of Swiftcurrent Motor Inn. They made sport of the time I was decompressing at Many Glacier. I left the park and came home a couple of weeks early.
So what had been a beautiful, gorgeous summer experience turned very weird fast. Not exactly the Summer of Love. More like the summer of weird.
There is more to this tale, but my fingers are sore.
August 17th, 2008 at 4:15 pm
Richard, if you read the book Night of the Grizzly then you know a little about my involvement as a ranger at Trout Lake. The summer after that infamous night, I spent two weeks with Jack Olsen, the author of the book. Now, I’d very much like to hear the “rest of your tale.” I hope you’ll give you fingers a rest and then resume.
Thanks very, very much for your note.
Bert
August 17th, 2008 at 9:50 pm
Bert,
1967 was a weird summer in Glacier Park. You have the story of my encounter. At the time, no one seemed to be isolating possible offenders. To this day, I wonder about the identity of the large, light colored brown/greenish grizzly (in the waning sun) who crossed my path, then followed me, and finally chased me. I got the sense toward the end that a charge was near. I could not have escaped that.
It was a very big, light colored grizzly. A blonde, almost. I would be interested to know if this bear was on anyone’s radar for the “most wanted” list. I did hear afterward of a bear matching this descripion who had been going through trash at both Many Glacier and Swiftcurrent around the time of my encounter. It was unusual for any bear to come down that far, especially a grizzly, but then, there it was. And the forest fires were forcing new strategies for survival.
My guess is that there was only one bear in this particular populated valley matching the general description. It was just my luck, apparently, to accidentally happen upon it, and to call him or her out (unintentionally) in a direct confrontation. I never got the sense there were any cubs around.
There might have been some other reason for the bear’s curiosity and then, pursuit. Bears are not into random violence.
September 22nd, 2008 at 6:11 pm
Bert,
I hiked to Trout Lake for the first time earlier this month. It was an erie place for me to be because of the 1967 attack. I tried to locate the exact location of the campground and attack. I also thought that I would find some kind of memorial identifying the site. Does any exist?
September 22nd, 2008 at 6:55 pm
I’ve returned to Trout Lake many times and know for sure that no memorial exists. I agree,it is an erie place.
Bert