Mama and the three bears

Monday, August 13, 2007

STEWART, BC — This morning when we looked out the window at our campground in Iskut, there was a mess of garbage bags, old paper plates, orange peels and other debris spread all around the garbage cans across the way. Somebody hadn’t clamped the can tightly when disposing of their trash, and the bears had had a feast.
Incidents like these make me glad our trailer has nice, hard sides and a lockable door. Here at our campground in Stewart, they won’t even allow people to camp with soft-sided trailers or tents; it’s just too dangerous.
Before we set out, we wandered down by the side of the lake. It was quite chilly — the truck thermometer said four degrees — and the water was crystal clear. The morning sun cast a blush of warm light on the tops of the mountains across the lake, and the edge of the water barely moved against the round beach stones at our feet. It was a beautiful, peaceful sight.
The southern half of the Cassiar Highway contrasted greatly with the stretch we had covered at the north end yesterday. This was a pleasant discovery, as we covered mile after mile of smoothly paved asphalt, broken only twice with very short gravel sections, one of which was another recent washout.
Not having to watch closely for axle-breaking potholes gave Val more time to admire the absolutely spectacular scenery all along the way. I got to watch it more steadily, when I wasn’t checking Milepost for an interesting tidbit to read out about. It may start to sound boring when I expound enthusiastically about the majesty of the snow-capped peaks, and the beauty of the lakes, flowers and trees, but that’s what it was like, mile after mile. It was interesting to see the vegetation change as we drove further south. The greater height of the pine trees and thicker forests were a definite change, and more and more deciduous trees of an appreciable size came into view, as well as great fronds of fern and lush undergrowth.
We must have seen more than half a dozen glaciers hanging icy and blue between the jagged mountain tops, and from them would splash long, thin streams of foaming water, tumbling downward like a lacy veil against the dark rocks. There were also great patches of snow even at much lower altitudes than one might expect in late summer.
Shortly after lunch we spotted a young black bear at the side of the road before he quickly jumped off the shoulder and disappeared into the bush.
The road in to Stewart, which is a dead end along which we will have to return, took us through more fantastic vistas, as well as views of glaciers right by the highway, and deep gorges and narrow passes between huge high rock cuts. Thick forests of enormous pine trees stood on either side. I guess I’m gushing once again.
We got to our campground at around three, so there was time to unhitch, set up and rest a bit before driving in to town to see the lay of the land and visit the information centre. Stewart’s big claim to fame is bear viewing, so we wanted details. The guide told us the best times are between six and 10, morning or evening, when the sun isn’t at its height. There is a special area with fenced-in boardwalks where you can stand and watch without endangering yourself or impeding the bears’ activities.
After supper, we headed for the viewing area. It’s actually in Alaska! Stewart is at the Canadian border across from a lively ghost town called Hyder, and Fish Creek, where the salmon go to spawn, is on the American side. When we arrived, there were already dozens of vehicles parked and scores of people lining the boardwalk overlooking the creek. I’ve never seen so many telephoto lenses and tripods in one place! Some lenses were as big as sewer pipes, I swear! We felt a bit under-equipped with our little digital, until behind me I heard the click and whir of a disposable pocket camera.
It looked as though some people had been waiting by the stream for quite a while to view the bears. We found an empty section of railing to stand, and looked down on the water, where we could easily see dozens of large salmon resting in the stream, thrashing for a better position every now and then with a noisy splash. These exhausted creatures had made their long journey to spawn and were living out their last minutes or hours before they would die.
Only moments after we got to our spot, a mother grizzly and her three cubs sauntered out of the bushes right across from us! It was almost as though they had made an appointment with us! For a good 20 minutes, we watched this furry family move up and down the stream, mother giving fishing lessons and cubs tumbling about, watching Mama, or tearing into a fresh fish that she brought to shore for them. Every time the mother moved to another part of the stream, the salmon would scatter in all directions and the water would boil with activity. One of the cubs was a good student, trying its hand at catching the slippery creatures, while another was content to stay on shore eating. When the others got a bit far away, it would grab its shredded supper and scamper along to catch up. It was a wonderful session, watching these beautiful animals in their natural setting.