And yet, back in the '80's, this was the very thing suggested should one surprise such a creature while hiking.
Not to get all anecdotal and such, however, the very thing happened to my wife and I back in "83, I think it was.
Wife rounded a trail corner and encountered an old mossy-back grizz, reaching way up to score some berries.
My wife's first reaction was to throw her poncho (she was carrying it) at the bear, scream like a dying banshee and then freeze immobile.
I had time to watch the bear drop to all fours, shuffle around, grunt a few times (possibly farted) and then shat upon the trail and slowly amble off toward the higher ground.
An aside, anecdotally speaking, of course, the bear was not the only one that shat on that trail.
Present company...etc, etc, naturally.
The Ranger, who had passed that very spot just a few moments prior, called the bear by name and told us he was a fairly common sight in the area, but because of his advancing age, he was considered an extreme threat to humans.
He postulated that because of the flying poncho and the unearthly wail emanating from an enigma, the likes of which he most likely had never seen before, made ol' Bruin decide to forgo an easy, probably tasty meal, and get the hell out of Dodge.
Sadly, in the 6 week period after we left, there were several attacks credited to this bear and he was euthanized after one in which he destroyed the bed-mounted cover of a pickup, in pursuit of several hot dogs that had already been grilled, but then left uneaten, and been carelessly tossed in the back of the truck.
The later necropsy, as attested to by my cousin, the aforementioned Ranger, revealed that the poor bears mouth was a Dentist's nightmare (or wet dream, depending on ones' outlook)...broken teeth, teeth worn practically to the gum line, teeth that had rotted to the point that he would have experienced severe pain upon biting in the the usual grizzly bear style.
Anecdotally speaking, of course.
"First you say it, then you do it."