Wild Rivers
We often only see rivers from the roads we drive, and therefore only glimpse a snippet of their story. We never know the mysteries that unfold along their banks as the river flows deep into the wild.
For humans and animals alike, rivers are the arteries that give life to us all. They’ve shaped habitats, cultures, civilization and generations of indigenous tribes; trappers, hunters and prospectors travelled the river highways and depended on them for survival. In British Columbia, it's said that the heyday of Rivermen came to an end around 1972. Since then, our relationship with rivers has become more recreational.
There are six major rivers in British Columbia, and literally hundreds of tributaries.
We journey to one such river, that twists and turns through forests of coniferous and deciduous trees, and willow marshes of the Sub-Boreal biogeoclimatic zone north of Prince George. Nestled above one of its banks, is an old cabin built by a legendary trapper in the early 1900s. Living amongst its dense forest, creeks and marshes are moose, wolves, beavers, muskrats, grizzly and black bears and elk (the elk were re-introduced to the region in recent years).
We float on the icy water in canoes toward the location Ryan has chosen for our next hunt. The trapper’s cabin, although likely already rented out by rodent guests, will be a warm place to dry our socks.
This hunt belongs to Ryan’s wife, Dana. She has the Limited Entry Tag for a big bull Moose in the area. Like Joel on the Goat hunt, it will be her first.
With the canoe bearing the load, and a cabin stove for cooking we’ll be able to expand our gear for comfort which means better meals extra warm clothes. This bodes well as autumn has come to Northern BC; snow is not unlikely, and nights will be well below freezing…but a small price to pay for the brilliant yellows and reds that paint the landscape as far as the eye can see. Not to mention, there will be no more bugs.
Fall is stunning in the North and deserves more than just a mention – it is like a magnificent encore encompassing and outshining its seasonal sisters that came before. She is the reminder that seasons are indeed for the soul, and nature’s continuous and beautiful dance must never be brushed off.
Autumn is also the primary hunting season in British Columbia, and the time in which those who aim to live off wild game set forth to fill their freezers for the long hard months ahead.
The North's ever shorter dawn has not yet arrived when our canoes dip their noses into the bubbling nook of the river. Just like the Goat hunt, nature's magic is displayed immediately. Two elk emerge, one on the river bank, one wading, like a spirit, through the mist rising from the water’s surface. It is a mother and calf. Their shapes are remarkable and satisfying in a way only divine beings can be. We think nothing of how large and powerful they when back home, but magnificant they are – having adapted to some of Mother Nature's harshest climates.
As we drift on, paddling lightly in the gentle current, the haunt of an elk bugle follows us. Ryan has a Limited Entry elk draw. Now he, too, is on the hunt.
Dried up riverbanks show the traces of moose, elk and bear. How long had it been since they passed and vanished without a sound into the forest?
Beavers slap their tails as we near their dens, and we hear the grunt of a Moose in the brush.
It was not long before a crashing through the woods is followed by the appearance of a giant big bull moose just behind the stern of our canoes. The early afternoon peace is broken by the vigour of the hunt.
What followed was a potentially once-in-a-lifetime 36 hours of joy, fear and chasing that could find its place amongst the great river tales of old.
Check out episode two to see what happens.
