Irish eyes weren't smiling on this day

"So, have you seen a bear yet?"

"No," the woman ahead of me said.

I was on the Highline Trail in Glacier slogging along. I decided to take a back position in the crowd. In front of me was a nice woman from Ireland whose husband was from Belfast, England and they were living in Texas.

I never asked them what they were doing in Glacier.

Hiking, I suppose, was the short, dumb answer.

I told the woman about my bear encounter the week before. How I had run into a griz at short range and it had hissed at me and blah, blah, blah.

"I really rather hope I don't see a bear," she said.

I explained to her how just about everyone who hikes in the Park carries bear spray and just then her husband or boyfriend or whatever turns around and asks what it is.

"It's really nasty pepper spray," I say. "Don't spray it and then go to the bathroom. If you have it on your hands, you won't forget it."

I know this because a friend did just that. I have sprayed myself before, but just enough to make my eyes water and my hands burn.

We slogged along some more. Talked Irish weather. You know the routine.

It was the first day of the opening of the Highline Trail and people were in good spirits because the sun was shining and, for once, it wasn't raining. It promised to be a nice day. We were headed to Granite Park and then I was going to turn around and head back to Logan Pass. I was hanging out with the Over-the-Hill-Gang. They were shoveling out problem spots of snow on the trail. The sort of places where, if you were to slip, you could go for a long, nasty ride.

The Gang lets me tag along once in a while. Well, I am getting older. I pronounced that I expected to be dead by 50 and only had 12 good summers left. They just shook their heads.

Park Ranger Ron Goldhirsch was in front of us, leading the way. He'd start shoveling a spot and we'd finish it up. We got to within sight of the chalet and his radio crackled.

Bear up ahead, folks at the chalet said. A griz sow with cub. A dangerous combination, it had already bluff charged two women.

A bluff charge is when a griz comes at you woofing and growling then either stops or veers off before it bites you. It's the sort of thing that creates unanticipated bowel movements in hikers.

The plan was to stick close and hope for the best.

We ran into the bear about a quarter mile further up the trail. Twelve of us were waving our arms and shovels, yelling at the sow and cub, who were ambling up the trail. They could care less if we had bear spray and shovels. They just kept coming until they were a penalty kick away.

This is our backyard, not yours. Step aside.

We stepped aside in a big way. We got off the trail and went up the slope.

The woman from Ireland was seeing her bears, to say the least.

The bears kept coming and then something bad happened.

Someone's bear spray went off by accident. It sprayed the woman from Ireland and the man from Belfast right in the kisser.

Irish eyes weren't exactly smiling after that. In fact, they were streaming big tears.

And for a moment, everyone sort of forgot about the damn bears. They were trying to help these folks.

The bears apparently had enough of us and finally, hopped off the trail and went into the woods, and we never saw them again.

We gave the poor guy from Belfast and the poor woman from Ireland water to wash themselves up with.

They got better after a while and were able to hike to the chalet.

I'm not quite sure how they made out, but pepper spray wears off pretty quickly and soon most folks were smiling, and then laughing about the whole thing.

No one suffered any ill from it.

The woman from Ireland and the man from Belfast got themselves one whale of a bear story.

But I bet if someone asks them about bear spray, the first thing they will do is tear up.

Don't worry, it's a natural reaction.

Chris Peterson is the editor of the Hungry Horse News.