“That’ll be bear scat,” she said pointing at the ground next to my boots. I expressed surprise: after all, we weren’t even on a mountain hike, properly speaking. This was more like a morning stroll, just a few weeks ago, on a low hill bordering some farmland on the edge of the Sensei's hometown. Classic satoyama territory, in fact.
 |
| Smoking "fun"? Suspected bear scat from a hill near us. |
We do seem to be hearing and seeing more of the ursine types. A few years ago, a cub ran across our trail on Genanpo. We were serenaded from a thicket on Hakusan. And we saw a pawprint in the snow on Honoke, earlier this year. Such incidents tend to support what statistics and news reports are suggesting: Honshu’s bear population has come roaring back.
Before you hit up Rakuten for a can of bear spray – more on that later – it’s worth checking whether you are travelling in bear country at all. And this information sheet from the Toyota City authorities helps you do just that. Bear scat comes in several different forms, it reveals:
 |
| Bear essentials: how to recognise their scat and pawprints. Courtesy of the Toyota City bear information sheet. |
Bears also announce themselves through their pawprints, scratches on tree trunks and the so-called nests of tangled branches that they make while gathering nuts or fruit. To prevent confusion, the information sheet also shows the droppings, hoofprints or scratches left by other kinds of forest denizen such as deer and wild boar.
Then, after taking a deep breath, it would be wise to read Emma Goto’s admirably cool and collected risk assessment over on her blog. Despite the rising number of reported bear encounters, including fatal ones, she points out, “the probability of you actually being attacked by a bear on the trail is still statistically very, very low.”
That may as be, but ardent Hyakumeizan hunters can’t confine themselves to the mountains of Shikoku, where bears are few, or Kyushu, where none have been sighted for years. In other regions, the Hyakumeizan mountains may be less frequented by bears, as Emma suggests, but this would hold true only for the routes most frequented by hikers.
 |
| Forewarned: Kumamap shows you where the heat is. |
Fortunately, it’s possible to quantify the risk of encountering a bear on any specific Hyakumeizan peak. This is thanks to the work of the Kumamap team, who run a database that aggregates reports of bear encounters all over Japan. Helpfully, they have already parsed that data to rank the One Hundred Mountains by bear safety.
The results, the authors say, are surprising – and they certainly surprised me. None of the top three mountains are in Akita or Iwate, the prefectures most in the news for bear attacks. Rather, they are Norikura in Gifu, where a skyline road brings thousands of day trippers straight into bear habitat, Bandai in Fukushima, where trails and ski resorts push deep into bear territories, and Yake-dake in the Northern Alps.
 |
| Into the danger zone? Ski-mountaineers on Norikura. |
So how should hikers protect themselves? The usual nostrums include walking in a group, or if hiking solo, choose a trail with other people on it. There are established guidelines for what to do if you actually see a bear. And, of course, most hikers carry a bear bell, and some pack bear spray too.
Some question the efficacy of these devices. Project Hyakumeizan feels unqualified to join this debate, having never actually set eyes on a bear in Japan. But like the Sensei, who has met with bears on occasion, I do carry a bear bell.
 |
| As they say, a chime in time saves nine .... |
And there’s no harm in referring readers to the advice of an expert, as quoted in the Japan Times:
I carry bear spray and three bear bells, [says Muto Shun, a government geologist who ranges through the mountains of Iwate]. My bear spray is set at my right waist, where I can reach it with my right hand immediately. When walking through bushy places or moving at a fast pace, I have my bear spray out from the holster and in my hand in case of close encounters. My bear bells are placed on both sides of my body so that I can be heard well from all directions.
Can other countries add to this stock of precautionary wisdom? Italy reintroduced the brown bear into its Apennines mountain range during the 2000s. As this population numbers just a hundred or so individuals, bear encounters are far fewer than in Honshu. Nevertheless, since 2014, bears have attacked people eight times.
Six of these cases involved a female bear with yearling cubs, and in one case a female bear killed the victim. It may be that this bear – the infamous JJ4 – was unusually aggressive. It may also be significant that the victim was a trail runner.
The circumstances of the Italian episode recall the – fortunately non-fatal – attack that befell Yamanoi Yasushi near Tokyo in 2011. But let Sartaj Ghuman tell the story, as he masterfully does in his profile of the elite climber published in Alpinist 62:
Nine years ago, Yamanoi-san was running in the forested hills near his house. He had to watch where he put his feet on the narrow, rocky path, and he almost bumped into the bear before he saw her. And then he noticed the cub that she was hiding behind her. He put his arm up instinctively, and the bear’s teeth bore down into his flesh. With a jerk of her massive head, she sent him flying through the air. He landed in some brambles, and before he knew it, the bear was upon him again. This time she bit into his face. Blood streamed. It took him about forty minutes to crawl down the mountain to his house, and then his neighbor called for an ambulance…
Statistically insignificant as they may be, these two incidents do suggest one more point of practical etiquette when visiting the realm of the mountain monarchs. Refer to Kumamap, know your bear signs, let them know you’re coming, by all means.
And then, above all, walk – don’t run – through their territory.
No comments:
Post a Comment