Two young men were overdue from climbing a mountain near Banff National Park. Their parents contacted the warden service, shortly after which we located their car. Through our spotting scope, we sighted a climber perched on a ledge, unable to move.

Climbing close to him, we called out for the whereabouts of his partner. “Is he above you? Is he below?” We received only a grunt in reply. People in stressful situations sometimes detach their mind from reality. We found his partner below; he had fallen to his death. Human error is invariably involved in such incidents.

So when people come to us and inquire about a hike or a climb or a trip through bear country, the information we give is simple, clear, and specific. At times park visitors must feel that we talk to them as if they were children. Many just cannot comprehend what can happen to them in the wilderness or on the mountain. They seem impatient to get started but have no understanding of what’s ahead. Therefore, our message is repetitious and full of warnings.

In the case of the two youths, all they had for a climbing rope was a sash cord with a metal hook on one end. They got into a situation where they couldn’t go up and couldn’t go down. The youth on the ledge was overcome with fear. He sat down and couldn’t move. So his friend decided to climb down with the rope to the next ledge and go for help. Knowing he would be gone for a while, he left his jacket so that his companion could keep warm. On his descent, the hook to which the rope was attached came undone from a crack in the rock, and he fell to his death.

In Bear Country

In another incident, a couple were completing the last stages of a hike down Boundary Creek outside Waterton in southern Alberta. Suddenly they caught sight of a bear coming down the trail toward them. The woman, who had a pack on her back, threw herself down on the trail in a fetal position, hands behind the neck, knees up over her stomach. Her husband froze with fear, standing about 20 feet [6 m] from her, watching the approaching bear.

The bear immediately went toward the woman, scratching at the pack on her back in an effort to get food. It inflicted scratches on her back, hip, and buttocks. Finally, realizing he had to do something, her husband reached into his pack and threw some sandwiches on the ground. In doing so, a pot fell from his pack onto a rock, and the noise caused the bear to break off and scurry back into the woods. The couple then made a hasty retreat. We had to destroy the bear, as it had been involved in previous incidents with humans.

The lesson from this is: If you are wearing a pack and are approached by a bear, get rid of the pack. Bears will often approach people to get them to drop their packs for the food they contain; they very quickly learn to do this. The discarded pack or camera or whatever object you have can distract the bear, buying you time to escape.

In another incident in the Lake Louise area of Banff National Park, a man was bitten on the thigh and hand by a female grizzly. She had two cubs with her. The incident didn’t make sense. She had charged from a distance of about 500 feet [150 m], leaving her cubs unprotected. It is not likely a bear would run that distance away from her cubs to attack a person for no apparent reason.

We had a feeling that the hiker’s dog had gone up to the bear and that the bear had chased the dog back to its owner. When we suggested this to the dog’s owner, he denied it, citing the park regulations that a dog must be on a leash, under physical control at all times. I turned to the warden with me and said that we’d have to destroy the bear. Immediately, the hiker’s response was, “Why?”

“The bear attack appears to be unprovoked,” we answered, “so the animal has to be destroyed.”

He thought it over for a moment and then confessed: “OK. You’re right. What you said is exactly what happened. My dog on the loose provoked the bear.”

Some people, when hiking the backcountry, feel that a dog is a protection. It is exactly the opposite. An untrained dog will often run up to a bear, bark, and then bring the pursuing bear back to its defenseless master.

In Banff National Park, there is a popular area called Johnston Canyon. It’s a pleasant one-hour walk to the Upper Falls. Signs are posted and barriers erected so that hikers will stay on the trail. One woman ignored the signs, walked around the end of the fence, and climbed down to the water’s edge to wash her feet. Another woman coming up the trail decided that this was a good idea and did the same. The simple task finished, she stood up on the smooth rock slab, lost her footing, and slipped into the fast-flowing stream.

The first woman reached out and touched her hand but couldn’t hold her. She was swept to her death over the falls. The really sad thing was that she was on her honeymoon, married for just three days. What a needless waste of life​—if only she had not disregarded the signs and the barrier!

So a bit of advice: If you are planning to hike into the backcountry, shorts, T-shirts, sandals, and a light lunch just won’t do. A beautiful summer’s day can change ever so quickly to wind and snow, causing you to suffer from exposure or hypothermia. Be prepared for the unexpected, and always carry extra food and clothing to complete your trip safely.

In addition, you should never climb or hike alone. Climb within your ability. Amateur mountaineers come from sea level and can’t perform the same at 4,500 to 8,000 feet [1,400 to 2,400 m]. So don’t overestimate your strength; the demands will always be greater than you imagine. Start early and turn back in adverse weather.