Canadian bears are a bit like buses. You wait for hours with none, then four come along all at once.

It was our seventh day in Canada and I’d begun to wonder if the bears were just a tourism ploy to lure us in with false hopes. We’d seen plenty of wonderful sights including thunderous water falls showering us in spray from impossible heights, deep rocky canyons where ice blue water gushed through narrow channels, turquoise lakes glistening in the sunlight and many more spectacular sights from hiking trails with panoramic views. I’d given myself the shakes standing too near the edge of a rocky outcrop on the Bee Hive above Lake Louise. We’d crossed snow covered paths on steep shale slopes and eaten numerous bananas to get us the last few miles back on some long hikes up and down mountains and beside crystal lakes which changed colours under the passing clouds. 

Now we were heading north to Jasper and the number of times I was banging my head in the camper van were decreasing. We stopped for lunch where the roaring Athabasca river meets Kicking Horse river, which reminded me of a scene from a cowboy film where horses cross just before an ambush. It was just after this that we spotted the bear. The sharp eyed driver saw something black moving up ahead and as we drew up we could see the bear bumbling along happily in the greenery beside the road apparently munching anything in sight. We were the only vehicle there, so we had him to ourselves. Disobeying the well laid down rules someone jumped out camera in hand and started snapping away. The bear, and it was a small very cute looking black bear with a brown nose and lovely eyes, continued his foraging and turned helpfully to gaze towards the camera at one point. From the safety of the van, I was fretting about the mother being in the area, as he was clearly quite young. By now we had caused a bit of a jam, so we moved up to a pull in. As the bear began crossing the road behind us, the Parks Canada patrol pulled up with words of warning to the driver/photographer who was asked politely to get back in the vehicle. This little reprimand couldn’t destroy our joy at seeing the bear so close to us and capturing our best photos so far.

Parks Canada staff patrol the park vigilantly in white trucks with a green stripe. They are a bit like school prefects. You know you’re doing something you shouldn’t… Ah, look behind, there is a Parks Canada truck just on cue! It happened each time we saw a bear – well almost. Anytime we were contemplating a slight deviation from the rules, one would appear! How did they know? It’s a mystery.

Our next bear sighting was the following day as we drove into our campsite, where we were warned a bear had been ‘hanging out’ an hour earlier, so be careful. We drove slowly round and suddenly spotted a large black bear munching grass by a picnic table in an empty camp spot. He stared straight at us and it was probably his size and proximity that made us stay in the van at first – he was only a few feet away. Just as he began moving away and we thought about getting out, yes, you guessed, the Parks Canada truck appeared behind us and started hooting at the bear to encourage it to go up the hill away from the campsite. The photos weren’t quite what we’d hoped for.

The next day en route south two more bears were spotted along the roadside, munching. Another large black bear and at last a young ginger coloured grizzly. We felt quite happy that we’d enjoyed a few sightings and captured some snaps to prove it. The following day we saw another black bear with his back to us, sitting on a grassy bank in the sunshine. Unfortunately, the Parks Canada patrol put a stop to photos that afternoon and we all left the bear to enjoy his picnic in peace.

Seeing the bears had made me a little more cautious about hiking in ‘beary’ type habitat. But we’d been in Canada well over a week and reckoned a path along the side of the lake was somewhere we wouldn’t need bear spray. We were wrong. Half an hour in the path veered into the woods where a large sign said hikers should travel in groups of four or more and carry bear spray as this was a place where grizzly bears lived and ate their lunch. We both hesitated and looked up at the track ahead. It was a fair way to go back for the bear spray… Luckily for us another hiker appeared and we asked if he would be happy for us to tag along, explaining about the lack of bear spray. Jeff was a jolly Canadian ‘postie’ (postal worker) out for a day hike.

“Sure, I’ll hike with you. I don’t have bear spray, but I have dog spray!”

I was thinking flea spray and wondering if it would do the trick. But he fished an aerosol can out of his pocket. Apparently, it was of a similar kind of ‘defensive weapon’ and should do the job in an emergency.

“I tested it in a paper bag before I left and I couldn’t stop sneezing, so I know it works.” He assured us.

I had a picture of a bear blowing his nose into an embroidered hankie and shaking his head, saying, “You made me sneeze… why did you make me sneeze?”

Jeff filled us in on his bear encounters in Lake Louise when he was working on the gondola lift during a ski season. He hadn’t seen any today, just some long horned sheep on the road coming in. On the way back, pepper spray untouched, we spotted some long horned sheep who crossed the trail ahead of us. There were several sweet looking lambs and what looked like a large ram who hovered on a rock above the path. Cameras were clicking and this obviously made the ram nervous. Seconds later he was trotting towards us very purposefully with his head down. I skipped further up the path followed by my fellow hiker, stowing his camera and saying, “I thought he was coming for me.” Meanwhile, Jeff had scrambled to take cover behind a large tree, pepper spray to hand. As he caught up and we were all striding away down the track, with a steep drop bedside us, the ram continued to follow us. Every few metres he would stop and turn his back on us, as if to say, “Run and hide – I’m coming to get you!” Jeff showed us the red scrapes from the tree on his arm and said the story of a ‘killer sheep’ on the Minnewanker (yes, it is spelt like that!) Lake trail would be told around the campfire that night, with some embellishments.

Tonight will be our last in the Rockies as we head back to civilisation tomorrow. It has been a blast – living in the outdoors and enjoying all kinds of weather and sights. Most wonderful has been the wild life, especially the fury kind. I wish I could smuggle a little black bear home with me – but I know they’re for the wild, not really for cuddling. 

Photo credits: Simon Farmer