The Hyder Experience

It sounded like the perfect photo op… a bear-viewing platform over Fish Creek that, according to all the literature, practically guaranteed daily opportunities to photograph bears fishing for salmon.  Located on a sliver of US property, wedged between the ocean and the town of Stewart in British Columbia, I had read about the multitude of bears that visit this prime salmon spawning site and was convinced that this would be the best place to photograph bears. 

The salmon run in this creek from early August until September.  Hedging our bet that it might be a late run because of the cold summer, we opted to arrive in mid-August.  While hiking the Twin Falls trail out of Smithers, we ran into a couple who had been at Hyder the week before.  The fellow was excited to tell us about the bear he saw scratching his back under a bridge and the sow and cub that visited the evening they arrived.

I was primed… with an itchy trigger finger, I knew that Hyder was the place to be.  I couldn’t have been further off base!

We left Lakelse Provincial Park in rain and arrived in Stewart in rain.  We checked out the Stewart campgrounds, then drove into Hyder to check out theirs. 

Hyder was quite a shock.  After visiting Skagway last year, we figured that Hyder would be somewhat similar.  It is not.  The pavement ends just before Hyder begins.  We were greeted by rain-filled ruts and potholes and boarded-up buildings.  Particularly along the main road, the buildings were mostly run down and looked very similar to what a mining town would have looked like in the early twenties.  Folks in Hyder told us that they like the rugged look of their town.

On our first run into Hyder on Sunday afternoon, we attempted to enter the viewing platform.  But the evening crew didn’t have the pass we needed, so we were turned away and told to check with the park ranger after eight the following morning. 

With the Hyder campground looking more like a parking lot lined with big rigs, we opted to return to Stewart to set up camp.  We chose the treed, municipal campground called Rainey Creek.  Little did we know what an omen that would be!

Hyder has no customs checkpoint, however, Canada does for those returning to Canada.   We found the Canadian guards to be thorough yet very courteous and amicable.  In fact, we were so recognizable to them by the end of the trip that they often asked if we had finally gotten any photos!

Upon our arrival back in Hyder on Monday morning, we were told that a boar, a sow and cub, and a wolf had fished for salmon the prior evening.  Undaunted, we were happy to finally be on the platform.  I soon located the perfect spot to set up the tripod, across the creek from a trampled trail with a half-dozen salmon carcasses lining the shoreline.

It was raining a light drizzle, but we were excited.  About two-dozen folks joined us on the platform.  Several professional photographers had set up cameras, waiting for the perfect shot.  Others were long-time visitors taking both video and photographs.  Still others were first timers like us.  Some came from the U.S., France, Germany, Norway, and all over Canada.

By ten that morning, not a bear had appeared.  The park rangers told us that the bears normally appear from 6 am to 10 am, then from 4 pm through 10 pm.  We decided to take a drive up to Salmon Glacier.  Fog and rain engulfed us on the drive.  We finally turned back when we were barely able to view of the toe of the glacier through the dense cloud cover.

That evening, we stood through a steady rain from 3:30 pm until nearly 8 pm without a bear sighting.  Surely, however, tomorrow would offer more.

We awoke at 6:30 am and decided to forego coffee rather than miss a bear.  The rain began in earnest.  I had my camera wrapped in a two-gallon storage bag, hoping to keep the majority of the rain off its connects and the lens. 

We met a variety of folks during our time on the platform, each with his own way of waiting.  Some were pacers, walking back and forth along the length of the boardwalk.  Others were sitters, content to wait it out, perched on a stool and under an umbrella.  Still others were talkers, making conversation with whoever would chat with them.  Others were simply impatient, leaving after only minutes or a mere hour without a bear viewing.

A small portion of the Hyder bear-viewing platform.

We left at about 9:30 Monday morning, cold, hungry, and needing coffee badly.  We returned at 4 pm and were relieved that we hadn’t missed a thing.  We left at nearly 9 pm, still without taking a single photograph of a bear.  It rained hard and steady all night long.

On Tuesday, we were back on the platform at 7 am.  Again, we left disappointed at around 9:30.  We returned again around 4:30.  Even though we had added an extra layer of clothing, we were soon shivering from the dampness and chill as the temperatures dipped into the 40s.  As the evening waned and the skies became even heavier, I knew that even if a bear did show that there would not be enough light for a decent shot. 

Still, we waited.  As the rain began to soak through our gear, long timer visitors told us that the Hyder bear viewing has become a shadow of what it once was.  We heard rumors that several of the bears had become so accustomed to people that they had wandered into to the towns and had been shot.  The forest rangers were much more upbeat, blaming the weather and the cool summer on the lack of bears.

About 7:30, the platform came alive when an old boar named Jaws made his entrance deep in the back of the creek.  The large brown bear was dubbed Jaws because he has a droopy bottom lip, most likely a souvenir from a battle won years ago.  He slowly made his way up the bank, fishing along the creek.  As we waited for him to edge closer, the steady rain became a downpour.

Jaws, a grizzly boar, fishing.

Conditions continue to deteriorate as we turn from downpour to deluge.

Shortly after Jaws began meandering back down the creek, we spied a small black bear foraging berries along the back of the platform.  Dozens of folks wedged along the platform, each trying to get their shot.  The little bear was completely unconcerned about us.  He walked under the viewing platform to forage on the other side before returning and disappearing into the forest.

Little black bear foraging for berries.

Little black bear heading home.

Happy to have finally taken at least a few photos, even under such dismal conditions, David and I left at about 8:30 that evening to get warm.  We opted for a hot supper to try to ward off the chill.  My camera had gotten so wet, there was condensate on the inside of the long lens.  I hoped to dry it out in a heated restaurant. 

Over dinner, David and I talked about whether or not we should stay another day.  A lovely couple that we had met on the platform sat at the next table.  Their enthusiasm was contagious, and my jury on staying was still out.

Exhausted from the day, the damp, and the chill, we planned to dry out and crawl into bed to try to get warm.  Unfortunately, when we arrived back at Oz, we discovered to our dismay that the canvas was so soaked from the three day’s rain that condensate around the windows had pooled and leaked, leaving both of our sleeping bags soaked. 

At 9 pm, we ended up at the Laundromat to dry out the bedding.  Thankfully, another great couple that we had met on the platform were also drying out and kept us company.  Their conversation helped to pass the already late hour.  We returned to camp and crawled into bed at nearly 11 pm.

The next morning, we were awake at 6:30 to make another run to the platform.  It was still driving rain.  We had now spent over a dozen hours trying to get a shot.

When we arrived, several told us that we had left too early the evening before.  A sow and cub had arrived, with the cub making his first salmon catch.  It didn’t matter… the light was already so low when the boar had appeared that I figured that any shot after that would have been mediocre at best.

We waited another two hours without another bear sighting.  Over breakfast, we talked through our options and the reality of the weather forecast.  Our waitress lamented the short tourist season with the unusual cold and wet.  She told us that just a few hundred feet above the platform that the mountain had received significant snow.

We determined that God was telling us to move inland.  It was really a rather easy decision.  Although I was disappointed at missing my fantastic bear photo op, the mere thought of finding sunshine again lifted my spirits.  Besides, poor Rox had been captured in the back of the truck practically the entire time and was fairly bursting with energy.

We broke camp under a misty rain, said goodbye to Hyder, and headed on to Lake Kinaskin.