Preview of coming attractions in the Bitterroot Valley

WHITEFISH - The scrapes on Bob Brown's shins are stinging proof that even a 26-year veteran of the Montana Legislature is no match for a grizzly bear.

Brown, who retired from lawmaking two years ago, was treed by a charging grizzly Saturday while hiking with his dog west of Whitefish.

"If you don't think a fat guy can climb a tree in a hurry," he said, "think again.

The former Republican president of the Senate was just killing time, hoping for a bit of an adventure and little fishing before his daughter's birthday party when he set out Saturday morning.

Brown and his dog, Mishka, headed to a favorite stream near Olney, just west of Whitefish. Mishka, ironically, is a Karelian bear dog, the same type used to harass problem bears in Glacier National Park. There's one big difference, however - Mishka is trained to work biscuits, not bears.

The pair walked up a logging road along Swift Creek, the day getting hotter and Brown wishing he had remembered his canteen. Loggers had recently carved several new roads, and Brown soon missed a turn in the labyrinth of dirt tracks.

"We went too far, and I knew it was too far," he said. "But I figured we could cut down through the woods to the creek. It was a pretty hot day, and I was thinking that creek was going to taste pretty good."

Brown and Mishka stumbled down the steep, brush-choked hillside, crawling over blow-down in the direction of the stream.

They took a break in the shade next to a swampy marsh where it was a little cooler. After lapping up a bellyful of the brackish water, Mislika ambled off into the brush.

"That's when I first heard it," he said. "It was a big, coughing, huffing, barking sound; more a cough than a bark, really."

Sitting by the marsh, Brown's first thought was moose, but then the dog came running back, clearly agitated. Hot on the dog's heels came an adult grizzly bear, not charging at a sprint, "but covering ground faster than you would imagine."

Instinct replaced thought, Brown said, and he scampered up a nearby lodgepole.

"I went up that tree just as fast as I could go," he said. "There were no limbs; I just grabbed hold and climbed. Under ordinary circumstances, if someone said 'I'll give you 100 bucks to climb that tree,' I wouldn't have even thought about trying."

As he clung to the trunk, the bear reared up on hind legs and began pawing for Brown's feet.

"I was gripping that tree for dear life," he said. "I looked right down into that bear's face and he looked right back at me. Then he dropped onto all fours and Sort of walked around the tree. I thought he was going to climb up after me; I thought, 'good Lord, I don't know how much farther I can go up this tree.' I knew I couldn't stay up there much longer; remember, I was tired. Heck, I was tired before I ever climbed that tree.

"I was really afraid I'd lose my grip. My legs were shaking and I was so tired and thirsty. I just hoped to God that bear would go and leave me alone."

After a couple minutes of grabbing at Brown's shoes, the bear did just that, lumbering into the thicket.

Mishka, who had been "pretty quiet, pretty sober," throughout the attack, came back to the clearing, and dog and owner snuck off in the other direction.

"Of course, the bear Was exactly between me and the creek," Brown Said and I Was so darned thirsty.

After looping up through the timber, he finally made it to his favorite fishing hole, where he gulped long draught of stream water,

"Then I did the craziest thing," he said. "The adrenaline Wore off very calm. I Whipped out and I became a fly and made two or three casts in a fishy little bend in the creek. About the fourth cast it hit me 'Brown, just 10 minutes ago a bear was trying to kill you ' so I pulled up and got out of there."

Brown, who has Spent considerable time hiking and fishing the Bob Marshall Wilderness, Glacier National Park and the Whitefish Range, had never before seen a bear up close.

"I guess I've been hearing these bear stories people tell and thinking, 'Gee, a story, and that's enough of that for me."

The moral to his story, he said, is that it doesn't pay to get lazy and that you're better safe than sorry. For years, he said, he didn't walk into the woods without his water, his pepper spray and, Some times, his magnum pistol. Saturday, he was armed only with his fishing pole.

"You carry that Spray around and never use it and finally you just quit carrying it," he said. "But it's like insurance; most of the time you don't need it, but when you need it you really need it. If he had just hooked just one claw into my pant cuff and pulled me down out of there and that would have been that. I'll have my pepper spray next time."