2.02.2007

Guided Bear Tours: Quest for Grizzlies

Article Presented by:
Travel Alberta, All Rights Reserved Written by: Travel Alberta


"There's a grizzly! He's in the avalanche run, munching on buffaloberries."

Sitting on a patch of grass beside Dr. Mike Gibeau, one of Canada's pre-eminent carnivore specialists, I was swept by his excitement. Scanning with my binoculars, I sighted the first grizzly bear I had ever seen in the wild.

My 12 companion explorers scrambled for their field glasses. "It's an unusual one," said Gibeau. "This individual is almost black most grizzlies here are silvertips but we can tell it's a grizzly because of its shoulder hump."

Once a year, Holiday on Horseback offers Year of the Grizzly, a six-day horseback trip through Banff National Park lead by Gibeau, plus two cowboy guides. The backcountry journey takes riders along trails through breathtaking mountain scenery north of Banff, an authentic mountain town that attracts visitors from around the world. Banff is just a few hours' drive west of Calgary, Alberta's international gateway city to the Canadian Rocky Mountains.

The outfitter operates three backcountry campsites: Stoney Creek, Flints Park, and Mystic. All camps are rustic. Canvas tents, outhouses, primitive washing facilities, and hearty meals served in tarpaulin-clad cookhouse 'dining rooms' became our home.

Okay, it seemed inviting. But who in their right mind would actually seek grizzlies? After all, these symbols of the wild have a ferocious reputation and hikers throughout Alberta's Rocky Mountains buy bear bells, hoping to avoid encounters. So, was my quest insane?

No. I've seen many mammals of the Rocky Mountains, but never a grizzly. Plus, I've hiked and ridden through the Canadian Rockies. I've never worn bear bells and so far, I've never been attacked. Frankly, I find two-legged critters scarier than four-legged ones. I'm comfortable in the wild and respectful of it and know most animals want to keep clear of people.

Moreover, my fellow adventurers felt like I did.

Ron Warner encourages this respect for the backcountry. He owns Warner Guiding and Outfitting, which operates Holidays on Horseback. "There are no recorded grizzly attacks where horses are involved," said Warner, speaking about the issue of danger. "I've operated out of Banff for 44 years and we've never had an incident."

So, after hearing of the Year of the Grizzly horse packing trip, I was hooked.

Learn Grizzly Habitats and Habits

Having Gibeau along ensured I would learn lots about grizzly habitat and habits. A biologist and former Banff National Park warden, Gibeau has studied the backcountry for 24 years. Most recently, he was a key researcher in the Eastern Slopes Grizzly Bear Project.

Despite his expertise, there was no guarantee we'd find a bear. For me, the vagaries of nature added a thrill to the quest and, when we spotted that first grizzly, an electric current seemed to buzz among our group. Binoculars clamped to my eyes, I watched the bear's every move. Buffaloberry bushes grow on these slopes, which have been cleared of trees by avalanches, and grizzlies can consume as many as 250,000 berries a day.

While we watched, Gibeau chatted quietly, explaining that bear attacks are overly emphasized by sensation-seeking media, promoting the mistaken impression that grizzlies are always aggressive.

Grizzlies do possess powerful shoulders and claws but these didn't evolve just to rip into hapless hikers. Instead, they enable them to dig into the earth, seeking miniscule ant larvae or to rake bushes for mouthfuls of juicy berries. This may not make a great story for the tabloids, but it is nature and evolution at its best.

The lunch break over, we caught our horses. Once mounted, we forded a creek, ascended a hill, and paused to look at our bear, which by then had descended a considerable distance.

"They travel fast," cautioned Gibeau. "This fellow's come down a few hundred meters in the time it took us to catch our horses."

We took Gibeau's advice, not wanting to crowd the bear. He explained that habituation with humans causes the most dangerous encounters from bears. Once a grizzly becomes unafraid, it associates people with handouts.

"Despite our pamphlets and signs, people still stop on the highway and get out of their cars to feed or photograph grizzlies," said Gibeau. "By doing this, they put themselves in real danger, and teach bears to associate humans with food."

As well, people are infringing on bear habitat. Gibeau explained: "Grizzlies need a lot of space: here along the eastern slopes of the Rockies, a male's territory is 1,000 square kilometres (621 square miles) while a female's is 500. By developing the mountain park regions, we're destroying their environment."

Scan for Grizzlies

While absorbing these facts, we all absorbed the sunshine, the fragrant mountain air, and the stunning scenery. And, you can bet we were all scanning for grizzlies.

Suddenly our lead guide, Mike Beerwald, exclaimed, "There's gotta be another one close by, look at the trail." There, right on the trail, were scarlet splashes of fresh bear scat – obviously, a grizzly was dining on red buffaloberries. Was it nearby?

Abruptly stopping, Beerwald cried, "Look! On the right! Oh gosh, it's close!" All of us stopped dead, searching the slope.

I couldn't see it. While others were exclaiming, I grew increasingly exasperated: Helpfully, Beerwald said, "It's right there, in the bushes!"

Live a Guide's Dream

Lowering my gaze from halfway up the mountain, to eye-level I froze. There, approximately 20 metres (66 feet) away, was the head of a huge silvertip, perfectly framed by buffaloberry bushes. Suddenly, it vanished and we erupted, everyone speaking simultaneously. Beerwald was over the moon at being the one to find it a guide's dream.

Always sensible, Gibeau called: "Move along folks!"

We rode on with barely contained excitement... but no more bear sightings. That night, we clustered around the wood stove, replaying the day. Tearing myself away, I headed to my tent. Pretending I was camping solo in the mountains, I'd chosen the site furthest away, which won me my nickname, "Bear-bait." I'll admit it: I found the electric fence encircling the camp reassuring.

With the Palliser Range framing my view of the constellations at Flints Park, I fell asleep beneath the Great Bear. Would tomorrow offer another grizzly?

Indeed, the next afternoon, the spirit of the bear granted a magnificent specimen. We were returning from a scenic ride along Flint Creek, when rider Joanne Bartlett exclaimed: "Is that a bear's butt?" Gibeau simultaneously glimpsed it: "Yes! Stop!"

There, in the sunlight, stood a large silvertip. As we watched, transfixed by its wild beauty, it reared on its hind legs, sniffing the air to investigate. Our horses stood, motionless.

Dropping to all fours, the grizzly disappeared into the woods. Urging us on, Gibeau admitted this was the best sighting he'd experienced on his Year of the Grizzly trips.

It was our last bear. Nonetheless, we found signs of grizzly presence, including fresh digs excavations bears make when digging up ground squirrels for a nice light snack.

The Flint Creek Ranger's Cabin sports 'welcome mats' outside its door and windows. Constructed of sturdy wooden planks with sharp nails protruding, they discourage grizzlies from getting inside. The mats made me even happier about the electric fence protecting our camps.

Regardless of mats, none of us were frightened. Instead, thanks to Gibeau, all of us were enlightened. And that's just what I'd hoped to be during my quest for grizzlies in the heart of Alberta's Rocky Mountains.


About the Author:
Copyright © 2006 Travel Alberta, All Rights Reserved

Travel Alberta is the destination marketing organization for the Province of Alberta. Guided by the Strategic Tourism Marketing Council, Travel Alberta is the steward for the effective delivery of tourism marketing programs. For information about our organization, please visit our Travel Alberta industry web site at http://www.travelalberta.com