Defenders Magazine

They lumber amid thick sagebrush, juniper shrubs and Ross’s bentgrass. They’re seemingly unconcerned by the tourists standing wide-eyed a football field away. They pick at things, eating constantly, shifting between a slow amble to an agile run that defies their size and heft. They can weigh up to 600 pounds, and stand more than six feet tall on their hind legs. During spring and summer months, when the sightseeing season heats up in Yellowstone National Park, crowds—gathered with binoculars and spotting scopes—have the same response on seeing them: first gasps, then smiles. Grizzly bears fascinate us. When they emerge from their winter dens, dug out in the fall beneath rocky shelter or along sandy slopes and are spotted gorging themselves on new vegetation or carcasses of bison and elk that died over the winter, we know that spring has arrived. When female grizzlies fiercely defend their cubs, we relate to these mother bears with compassion and understanding. We would do the same for our own children. The grizzly bear embodies our natural heritage and our fascination with the vast wilderness of our great nation.