Deep in Canada’s wilderness, I got a glimpse into another life

A wild grizzly bear stands 40 metres away as I crouch behind a fallen tree, watching it chow down on some grass.

Am I to be the next course? Or merely a Brit abroad, irritating this magnificent animal as it tries to concentrate on a post-hibernation meal?

I’m in the heart of the Great Bear Rainforest, deep in the wilderness of British Columbia. As the name suggests, bears take up residence in the shadows of Canada’s mountains and live off the dark waters of the estuary.

And I’m here to find one.

It’s one of Canada’s lesser-visited destinations, with none of Quebec’s culture or Toronto’s culinary wow factor.

But there’s more to Northern British Columbia than bear spotting; the area is steeped in a bloody colonial history I imagine few in the UK are aware of.

Plus, with snowcapped mountains, chocolate box towns and the city of Vancouver a one-hour flight away, the region has plenty for every taste — but bear spotting takes the ticket.

We’re going on a bear hunt

In my mind’s eye, I see myself befriending a beast, a modern-day Tarzan in hiking boots and a red puffer jacket. But despite their prevalence in the area, it’s a battle simply finding one to get close to.

We have just spent two hours on a jet boat battling wind and rain to reach an estuary to try and spot a glimpse of wildlife. 

As we near our target location, the mountains rise around us, framing the landscape, the icy spray whipping us as we venture further into the wilderness.

Signs that bears are close are becoming more apparent. 

‘You know you are getting closer when you see grass chopped squarely at the ends,’ our guide Rob Bryce explains. ‘They’ve been eating it after coming out of hibernation.’ 

Speaking in a soft Canadian drawl, his tone conveys years of experience — over time, he has become one with the landscape he has dedicated his life to.

Rob’s company, Northern BC Jet Boat Tours, prides itself on taking both tourists and city-dwelling Canadians off the beaten path to discover the overlooked treasures this region has to offer.

He assures me he has never once failed to find a bear in these parts.

The anticipation of seeing one in the wild grows the longer we are on the road, but we’re warned to be wary.

I recall the story of Timothy Treadwell – known as ‘Grizzly Man’ – who insisted he could live alongside bears in Alaska. To no one’s surprise, he was killed and eaten, alongside his girlfriend. 

Their deaths were only discovered after a gruesome audio recording was found inside a camera left at the scene, with park rangers forced to listen to the cries of the couple as they were mauled to death. 

But the chances of us being attacked are, thankfully, slim. Bears who are fresh out of hibernation eat only grass for the first six weeks to rebuild their strength before they can hunt.

Nevertheless, I make a note of where the bear spray is stored and mentally map a crude exit strategy.

Adrenaline rush

Hours into our expedition, the boat falls silent as the engine cuts off.

Rob, with his eagle eyesight, has spotted a brown lump slowly wandering in the tall grass close to the water. 

It’s strange how the human brain reacts to being examined by a predator.

Adrenaline rushes through my body. Eye-to-eye with nature, in my bones I know that I am prey, exposed and staring deep into the soul of the King of the Rainforest. But the bear merely looks up, unfazed by the sight of us, and continues its munching. 

Soon enough, two more reveal themselves, forming a triangle around our boat. To my delight, they are joined by twin cubs.

Seeing the cubs playing in the grass brings a rush of warmth to my heart — and a reminder that we are intruders.

Taking flight

On our travels, we also see less fearsome creatures: more bald eagles and sea lions than I can count, and a whale breaching the surface beneath overcast skies. 

But being stared down by a bear isn’t the scariest part of the trip for me. That honour is taken by my experience of flying in a seaplane for the first time.

Strapped into the tiniest airborne craft I have ever been on, the rattling doors do nothing to make me feel calmer as we rise from Tyhee Lake, which takes its name from the word ‘chief’.

As the water below us gets smaller, the view through the window becomes a portrait of magnificent glaciers. My fears melt away, and we soon land at the foot of the 8,000 ft Hawson Range. 

If you’d rather not fly, the hiking route up the Hudson Bay Mountain up to Crater Lake at the top is also an incredible experience (and the first time I have waded through snow in the month of June).

The scenic trail surrounded by ivory peaks and formidable water takes about two hours to complete — just remember to pack insect repellent.

Slow creeping tourism

While the northern swath of British Columbia remains untouched by mass tourism, our bush pilot, Severine Oosterhof, says she is starting to notice a steady increase in people making the journey.

‘We would only really fly hunters out here,’ she says.

‘But now more tourists and locals are ringing us up asking to see the glaciers, it’s great.’ 

First Nations freedom

For years, more than 200 nations have been governed under the Indian Act, which was put in place following the end of British colonisation in 1871.

The British established rule in British Columbia in 1858, and immediately banned the First Nations from following any part of their culture.

They lost their language and their lifestyle of communal living; they were forbidden from gathering together — stripping them of their identity.

‘To hide gatherings, there would be a guard outside the door who would warn when the colonisers were coming,’ our guide Tina tells us at the Nisga’a Museum.

‘Everyone would then burst into Christian song when they came in.’ 

She adds: ‘It was small acts of rebellion like that which meant our community was able to keep going, even underground.’ 

A trip to the Ksan Historical Village offers a harrowing glimpse into life under these conditions, and the deep connection to nature before colonisation destroyed it. 

Wooden houses stand facing the river, with totem poles that dwarf the trees, representing the lives and experiences of clan members. 

But the stories behind these wooden structures will never be revealed to tourists.

‘It is deeply disrespectful to tell other people’s stories, so much so that under our nation’s laws their family members have the right to take my life’ master carver Calvin McNeil for the Nisga’a Nation says.

Visiting British Columbia couldn’t have come at a better time, as the relationship between state and First Nations begins to change.

Perhaps, as indigenous peoples regain their identity, the human connection with nature – and bears – will be rightfully restored.

Brooke Davies was a guest of DestinationBC.

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