The Great Bear Incident (Many Glacier, Glacier National Park) Red Rock Falls Hike
- Kim Martinez
- 2 days ago
- 4 min read
Dusk is one of my favorite times to hike—quieter trails, cooler air, and that golden light that makes everything feel a little more peaceful. This one seemed like the perfect plan: a familiar 3.6-mile waterfall hike, and we left around 7:00 PM. With sunset not until 9:22 PM, we had plenty of time.
We’d done this trail a couple of years ago and remembered it as an easy, pleasant walk: trees, meadows, a loop around the lake, and then the waterfalls. It started out exactly that way.
The wildlife parade (everything was magical at first)
On the way in, the hike felt almost charmed.
·
A snowshoe rabbit sat and watched us without a care in the world.
A deer followed us so closely we started calling it our “stalker deer.” Even on the way back it stayed near us—almost like it wanted to be petted.
· And then the grand finale: a bull moose, resting near the shore of the lake, tucked into the bushes like he owned the place – which he does.
Manny went to get a better photo (of course). I made the smart choice and wandered around the lake a bit, found a better path, and ended up with a gorgeous view—lake, falls, and moose all in one frame. I waited for Manny to come around.
And waited.
I yelled for him.
No answer......
Enjoying the Hike
I figured he’d catch up easily, so I started walking. Just enjoying the views - peaceful, beautiful.....
But after a while… still no Manny.
I yelled again. Nothing.
The part where I realize I’m alone
And suddenly it hit me: there was no one on the trail. We’d passed a few groups earlier, but by now it was just me and the woods. I wasn't that worried its an easy trail - no way to get lost and only mile or so from the parking lot.......However I did start to take note of my surroundings a bit more after realizing:
Manny had the backpack.
Which meant he had:
· the water (fine)
· my pullover (fine… for now)
· and the bear spray (not fine)
Still, I kept moving, started talking out loud - making reasonable amount of noise, keeping an eye out - enjoying the hike anyway - still expecting Manny to show up.
The Bear
I was hiking at a steady pace when I came around a corner and suddenly, ahead of me, a huge Grizzly bear (note: on a trail they are all "huge") meandered right onto the path.
Only a few yards away!
He stood there with his nose in the air, sniffing—like he was checking the evening menu.
I stopped. Then I turned around and started hiking back the way I came, putting distance between us as quickly as I could while trying to look calm (maybe).
The problem? I was less than a mile from the parking lot… but the bear was between me and it.
So I reversed course—away from the car, away from “done,” and back toward the waterfall.
I started yelling again for Manny, and for help, and for the bear to please choose a different trail. But this wasn’t midday at Many Glacier. This was later—quiet, empty, and getting darker by the minute.
No one heard me.
My “emergency” tech fails the vibe check
At one point I remembered my Apple Watch had a siren feature. I tried to find it while walking (not ideal), and when I finally got it going…
It sounded like a bird call.
Not a terrifying emergency siren. Not a “go away, bear” alarm. More like something you’d use to call a lost canary.
Note to self: buy an air horn.
I reached a low, open footbridge over a small creek—nothing special, but it gave me a clear view of the sky and the trail. For some reason it felt like a “safe bridge,” so I stopped there and tried using the SOS satellite feature on my iPhone.
Talk about a false sense of security.
After turning left, turning right, waiting “five minutes” (which felt more like ten), it finally connected. They asked a bunch of questions and I gave them precise details:
I was on the Red Rock Falls trail near the Many Glacier entrance in Glacier National Park, about 1.5 miles in, separated from my husband (who had the bear spray), and there was a large brown bear on the path between me and the parking lot.
They replied:
“Understood, I will be contacting emergency services, bear with me.”
Bear with me.
I told them, “Not funny.”
Then they started asking things like:
· When did this happen?
· How many minutes ago?
· How did you get separated?
I answered: Now. I’m here. I need assistance.
And: He was looking at a damn moose.
The satellite connection kept dropping. Every time it reconnected, it took forever, and the responses were… not helpful. Eventually I realized there wasn’t going to be a ranger magically appearing on the trail for me.
So I hung up.
Useless.
Waiting it out in the dark
By then, I’d been on my “safe bridge” for over 30 minutes. It was around 9:15 PM, getting darker fast, and the temperature was dropping. A cold sprinkle of rain started to creep in.
I kept thinking Manny would come back for me. But I also kept thinking: what if the bear was still there? What if Manny ran into him too?
So I waited. I shouted now and then. I listened. I tried to stay calm.
And then—finally—Manny appeared.
The first thing he said was:
“Where have you been?”
I didn’t even answer. I just said:
“Bear. Bear.”
He looked around like I was being dramatic.
“Where?”
He pulled out the bear spray and we started moving—fast. It was dark, cold, and lightly raining, and we hurried past the spot where I’d seen the bear.
He was gone.
Which was good… and also not comforting at all, because “gone” doesn’t mean “far.”
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