Grizzly bears are one of the most dangerous creatures you can ever have the misfortune of encountering out in the wilderness. With claws as long as a boning knife and teeth the length of a straight razor, with muscles capable of flipping a car, bears can monumentally ruin your day. Check out a real life encounter below.

Jenna saw the grizzly a second or two before I did. We were on the Grinnell Glacier Trail, and there was a 20-foot-tall boulder sticking out. Jenna was about to walk around it when the bear turned the corner. She could’ve reached out and touched its snout. It was within 5 feet of her, and she could see that it had two cubs. Jenna’s first response was to run away. She took about two steps back toward me. I was still walking up, unaware of what was happening–until she shouted, “Oh no!” The first thing I saw was this big furry thing. It was running straight at me. I remember the fangs and the claws. I never even saw the cubs. I instinctively stepped in front of Jenna. My response was just to stand my ground and not move. The bear immediately went for my left thigh: whomp, bite. It mouthed right in. I looked down at what was happening; it was just surreal.
After the bear bit me, I didn’t fight back. I couldn’t. There wasn’t half a second. It was just impact. Plus, I got thrown off my feet. I knew the smartest tactic was to get into the fetal position, but there was no time. And then I thought: Shoot, my vital organs are totally exposed.
The bear was throwing me around. I looked down the trail and decided the best thing to do was to get myself off the slope. And that’s what I did. I ripped my body free from its jaws and then rolled down a steep embankment over rocks and bushes. I tumbled about 20 feet.
I came to a stop and took a breath. Then the realization came: OK, I’m here. There’s no bear, there’s no Jenna. Those two are together. That’s not good.
I yelled, “Jenna, come down here! It’s safe!” She never heard me. But the bear did. The minute I yelled, I saw the bear looking down. It started running right at me.
It’s unbelievable how fast grizzlies barrel up and down slopes. I went into a fetal position, and the bear latched onto my pack, lifting me up and down like I weighed nothing. I’m 6 foot 1 and 185 pounds.
All I could think was: This is bizarre. But Jenna later told me I was screaming. Then I remember thinking, Jenna doesn’t have a backpack. If this happens to her, she’s dead. That’s when the realization set in: I needed to keep this bear with me. I can protect myself, but Jenna doesn’t have this extra protection. I think my screaming kept it on me.
When a grizzly attacks, it doesn’t bite, hold on, then shake back and forth like a dog. It bites and pulls away, bites and pulls away.
Half the time I was in its mouth, and I could see what it was doing, that it was pulling my flesh, but there was no pain. I could also see blood, though, and I knew it was bad.
So I curled back into protective mode, but this time it got more aggressive, gnawing and scratching my head. It felt like a dog digging for a bone. It was also biting my right arm.
I was face-to-face with the grizzly for about 3 to 5 minutes, but I don’t remember what it smelled like. I don’t recall any sounds, any grunting or growling. In fact, I never felt afraid. I was focused on survival and getting it away from Jenna.
The turning point was when I felt a tooth going into the bottom of my skull at the nape of my neck. When it went in, I heard a cracking sound and felt a lot of pressure. Then it hit me: Yes, I’m keeping this thing with me, but I’m going to be dead soon. So I thought, I need to get out of this situation. I launched myself downhill again and fell another 20 feet. I stopped in a rock chute on the edge of a cliff. My feet were strongly planted on rocks, my back into the mountain, and there were two rock outcroppings above me. Below me, there was a drop of several hundred feet.
The bear came down and just looked at me. I didn’t move or make a sound. Maybe it thought I was dead. I was sitting there preparing to kick it off the mountain if it came after me again. I wasn’t in a vulnerable position, even though I was really banged up. Honestly, I don’t know if I could ever kick a bear off a mountain, but I was prepared to try. Instead it looked down at me and walked away. I never saw it again.
Then I heard Jenna scream. That was the worst sound I’ve ever heard.
The bear had gone back to Jenna. When it lunged at her, she extended her hands and grabbed it around the throat. I think that was when Jenna realized she needed to play dead instead. She quickly curled up in the fetal position. The bear bit her face and then her shoulder. She didn’t flinch. It finally gave up and left, probably to retrieve its cubs.
After her initial scream, I didn’t hear anything more, so I figured the bear wasn’t on her. But I didn’t make a sound myself for fear that it would turn back to me. At this point, I couldn’t do anything to help Jenna, because I was pretty beaten up. I assessed my wounds. I didn’t see any arterial bleeds, but when I touched the top of my head, I felt nothing but bone.
I waited a little longer, then I yelled for Jenna. She called back immediately. And her voice was strong. That was the best sound I’ve ever heard.
After Jenna fell, she had crawled under some bushes and next to a rock for some protection. We were about 30 feet apart. The first thing I asked when I called to her was how her eyes were. Fine, she said, but she had wounds on her face and her shoulder.
I crawled to a ledge, leaving my backpack and a trail of blood behind. I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head, just to cover up my scalp so people wouldn’t have to see me. A ranger told me afterwards that I actually created a seal to stop the bleeding.
For the next 45 minutes, we yelled for help.
I don’t remember much until a guy came sliding down the mountain with his eyes wide open. His wife ran back down the trail and eventually found a ranger-led group on its way to the glacier. That ranger radioed for help.
It was a long 2 hours before medical personnel reached us. During the wait, more hikers stopped. Two boys retrieved my backpack and camera. Others covered us up with their jackets. We were bloody, but they didn’t care.
When the rangers arrived, they started treatment, but it was another 4 hours until a helicopter arrived to lift us out.
My blood pressure dropped to 80/30, and I lost about half of my blood. An artery going through my scalp was torn. But pain was not an issue. Yes, I was hurting, but it wasn’t something I concentrated on. I was just so happy to see people.

Warning Signs
5 bear-country scenarios that call for extra vigilance
1. You’re near a rushing stream
“A bear has difficulty hearing you above this noise, so you’re more likely to surprise it,” says Herrero. The water also makes it tough for you to hear a bear snorting. When hiking in bear habitat that’s noisy, keep up the chatter, stay alert, and stop occasionally to scan for bears, advises Herrero.
2. There’s a headwind
A bear’s #1 sense is smell. A tailwind will carry your odor to bears down-trail. “Most bears will decide to avoid you,” says Herrero. When the wind is in your face, that advantage diminishes. “Bears don’t like surprises. If all of a sudden it finds a person 25 meters away, it may just run on auto-pilot.” Changing course may be impractical, but you can still make your presence known; again, talk or sing loudly. And this is a good time to be sure the bear spray on your hip is ready to fire.
3. You come upon a cluster of overturned rocks
If you’re hiking in Yellowstone or Glacier, the work was likely done by grizzlies looking for army cutworm moths. “Ninety percent of the time, bears are going to be where their food is,” says Herrero. If there are also signs of fresh digging, a grizzly is probably nearby. Move swiftly by, and keep your bear antenna up.
4. You’re on bear turf
Grizzlies have learned to expect people on trails, not off them. You don’t want to catch a bear off guard, like when you’re bushwhacking in tall grass. Switchbacks can be a concern if you don’t have a good line of sight. “Ideally, you want to be able to see 50 meters ahead,” says Herrero. When hiking in low-visibility areas or off-trail, let out your best yodel as often as every 10 seconds. Also, scan the ground for fresh bear scat. If beetles or larvae are in it, it’s not fresh. If not, be extremely alert.
5. A raven is circling
“Some of the worst attacks have been when a grizzly was feeding on a carcass,” says Herrero. If you spot a scavenger such as a coyote or crow, assume there’s a carcass–and a grizzly–nearby. Make a wide detour around the area or back away completely.–J.C.

As with many attacks, this one occurred because a mother grizzly was protecting her cubs. What made this even more dangerous was the fact that the two hikers also surprised the bear. This meant that they had no opportunity to escape from bluff charging and foot stamping.

Because this surprise was the absolute cause of the bear attack, the most pertinent advice to apply to your hikes is to make plenty of noise if you find yourself in probable bear territory. The last thing you want is to live through a repeat performance of the story above… or worse.

If you'd like to know more about this survivor and his amazing story of recovery, we encourage you to read the original article at Backpacker.