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On our first night in Churchill, Pete packed up his camera gear and set out at about 10 pm. Rustled into action by the Aurora app flashing on his phone, he ignored the heavy cloud cover we had been under since earlier that day. He held onto the hope of a break in the clouds or that the strength of the lights would at least brighten their hue.

He left the warmth of our hotel room just as an old military siren blared. I never got a definitive answer as to why the siren is still in service, given that there is no remaining military presence, but if I were to guess, I would say it still serves as an important reminder. That the streets are empty, quiet, and possibly soon to be overtaken by the world’s largest land predators.

Pete returned just a few minutes later. With his eyes focused upwards while walking on a peaceful street, hoping to see any glimmer of green cosmic light, he returned his gaze to street level and realized how utterly vulnerable he was. Realizing that at any second, he could come face-to-face with a curious polar bear. Disastrous encounters in this small northern town usually happen when people forget to respect the environment in which they are in. He did not want to be one of those statistics.

It’s Churchill’s great deception. For all its friendly residents and quiet streets that would lure visitors into feeling welcome and secure, danger lurks large, in the form of an icon of the Arctic who moves stealthily and is primarily motivated by one thing.

Hunger.

Life in Churchill, Manitoba

Accessible only by train or plane, Churchill is a tiny slice of Canadian civilization situated on the banks of Hudson’s Bay. It is situated just north of one of the least visited parks in North America – Wapusk National Park – and is well protected because of the major polar bear den area.

During seven weeks spread over October and November, polar bears can outnumber humans in the surrounding area. The bears congregate near town and wait for the Bay to freeze over so that they can begin their feeding season.

They would have gone several months since their last meal of seal blubber; the females even longer if they gave birth in dens and cut off many weeks of prime feeding while depleting their resources and nursing cubs. In between their annual quest across the frozen Bay to feast on ringed seals, they will have only eaten such things as small rodents, vegetation, and seabirds.

While deadly encounters between humans and these carnivores are rare, the power of a big appetite should not be underestimated.

The residents of Churchill are on high alert during this time when the bears are passing through. House and vehicle doors are left unlocked should anyone need immediate shelter. An alert program is in place with a 24-hour emergency number that everybody knows. Gunshots are commonly used to scare the polar bears that get too close (in one day we heard six shots in the span of a few hours).

Large bear traps can be seen in some spots surrounding the town, and a polar bear holding facility or as the locals call it, “polar bear jail”, even exists to house the ones who are not so easily deterred. The bears will be brought in and tranquillized before being held for up to thirty days; if the ice hasn’t formed on the Bay during that time, then they will be hoisted and transported safely by helicopter to a location further north.

Halloween, smack dab in the middle of bear season, is an event like none other. Residents circle the town in their vehicles while helicopters circle above to ensure that the children can safely go door-to-door after dark. Common sense would have kids avoid costumes that resemble their hungry neighbours, and dressing up as a ghost is not recommended because it blends into the white background.

And journeys into open spaces are done under the watchful eye of someone with a rifle who knows how to use it.

“You’ll see my colleague David there with a 12 gauge shotgun full of lethal ammo. He’s on polar bear patrol.” Rhonda, an interpretive guide at Cape Merry, stood on the steps of our converted school bus to explain the significance of the narrowing sliver of land in front of us, along with her own affinity to the area. She traded one northern locale (in Ontario) for another, and declared Churchill to be the home she would never leave.

Rhonda’s story was one we heard often during our short stay there, from locals and seasonal employees alike who return year after year. What continually draws them there may vary by person – while some likely shirk from the vigilance required to live in the surroundings of such powerful beasts and a harsh climate – I could absolutely acknowledge the appeal.

Not only from the challenge of both mind and body to live so remotely but also to be a part of such a close-knit community where the residents rely on each other to help preserve the safety of both themselves and the bears.

It is a tiny and quiet town, bustling for only two months of the year, but in a fascinating natural environment that can hardly be found elsewhere.

Within minutes of our arrival, we got a taste of what that life might be like. Enroute from the airport to Churchill in the converted school bus, we made a sudden stop. Our driver noticed a small male bear (with paws the size of dinner plates!) sauntering along the driver’s side in the ditch, clearly heading for the garbage facility up ahead. With walls reinforced by layers of steel, the bears are prevented from devouring the treasures inside, but the aromas emitted are still alluring.

Despite our schedule being in jeopardy, we followed the bear for some time and then drove past the building in order to check that no one would be caught outside and off-guard with the bear approaching. Thankfully, the surrounding yard was empty, save for the penned dogs whose barks eventually scared the bear off in another direction.

“That’s a bonus bear!” our guide Hayley said, referring to the fact that we had our first encounter before even venturing out onto the tundra. A bonus for us indeed, but likely not if someone had been caught unaware around the corner.

Our excitement at seeing that first giant of the north could not be overstated, though. That is what we had made the trip to Churchill for, and the best of our sightings was yet to come.

How to Experience Churchill, Manitoba

We ventured from Winnipeg to Churchill with Frontiers North Adventures, and they offer a variety of tours for different experiences and budgets. They provided us, without a doubt, with one of the most exciting and compelling tours we have ever done, with careful respect for the environment and community of Churchill. We were well taken care of on and off the tundra, and our guide Hayley was nothing short of exceptional.

Churchill Tours we Recommend:

Classic 5 Night Churchill Polar Bear Adventure

This is the experience of a lifetime, and you don’t have to plan a thing other than getting yourself to Winnipeg. You will experience polar bears in their natural habitat on this 5-night tour to Churchill, Manitoba.

Your flights from Winnipeg to the remote town of Churchill are included, and you will stay for 5 nights with all meals included. Not only will you get 2 days of tundra buggy-ing to see the polar bears in their home, but you will also get a true taste of life in a northern Canadian town. You will visit the Itsanitaq Museum, take a Parks Canada Interpretive Centre tour, go dogsledding and more!

This tour is only available from October through November before the bears go out onto the Arctic Ice, and these will sell out, so book early!

Tundra Buggy Autumn Day Tours

If you plan on getting yourself up to Churchill and finding your own accommodations but want to see the polar bears, this tour will work perfectly.

NOTE – you can not venture off on your own to see the polar bears except on a tour.

On this day-long tour, you will board the tundra buggy and venture out onto the tundra to witness the majestic polar bears. Along the way, you may encounter other wildlife too, including Arctic foxes, snowy owls and more!

This tour is also only available from October through November before the bears go out onto the Arctic Ice, and these will sell out, so book early!

We all have those places – spots we’ve been to frequently but have never really visited. And such is the case of us with the city of Medicine Hat in southeastern Alberta. My father moved there several years ago and while we’ve done some limited exploring with him, we had only ever just scratched the surface. What a difference it makes to return with specific quests in mind and with full intent to explore the best of what the city has to offer.

Searching for the Best in Medicine Hat

For the best coffee.

We were, on our second day, planning to hunt for fall colours via bicycle along the shores of South Saskatchewan River in Police Point Park. The weather had other ideas for us. With a dismal forecast we instead turned our attention to activities that would keep us indoors.For a small city, Medicine Hat has a relatively strong cafe culture. Strong enough that if you were to try and crawl it all in one day, there is a high probability that you would blow past the recommended daily limits for caffeine. We took in Heartwood Cafe and Station Coffee Company, and had to opt only for Italian sodas at Café Verve as we were too wired, but the most memorable stop for us was Madhatter Coffee Roastery.

Not only for the delectable coffee (a Viennese Melange, a cappuccino made with half white milk and half chocolate, and with beans freshly roasted right in front of us, the only spot in town to do so), but also for the encouraging conversation with their new owners, Josh and Katrina. In our brief chat the excitement for their venture was clearly palpable, with ambitious and admirable plans to use their excellent relationships with coffee growers around the world to do further good for causes dear to their heart.

For hidden treasure

We were thankfully able to return to the Nature Centre in Police Point a day later, but this time venturing by foot and with our noses to the ground. We were on a quest for treasure that was hidden in tree stumps and clumps around the park.

I’m honestly a little surprised at ourselves and that we’ve never tried geocaching before, but it was fitting that we take our first hand at it in Medicine Hat, where the city is on a mission to be regarded as Alberta’s Capital of Geocaching.

The concept is simple, and it was all about the quest. Armed with a handheld GPS, we locked in coordinates and used it as guidance among the paths (and through the bushes!) to pinpoint our destination. On arrival, a small container held a notebook and sometimes other tokens to mark the victorious find. There are dozens to find within the park, and hundreds in the city of Medicine Hat itself.

We were hooked. Especially when we chased a spot down to the river and had that slice of the valley all to ourselves. It then was not at all about the small cache to be found, but about enjoying the places we never would have gotten to otherwise.

For connections with nature

Red Rock Coulee

A couple of years ago we were on a journey by camper van in New Zealand, and one of our stops was the famed Moeraki Boulders. We were stunned by the perfect spherical rocks that sat on the beach, so much so that we were up before the crack of dawn to photograph the sun splitting over them as it began its daily ascent.

Red Rock Coulee Natural Area, just a few dozen kilometers away from Medicine Hat, was so similar, and yet so stunningly unknown in comparison. How is this not a place that tourists and photographers flock to regularly? The science behind the rocks is interesting enough – they are concretions formed over millions of years into red-orange perfect spheres – but to play on them and photograph them (with no one else around!) was a really special experience. You can bet we’ll be back for sunset on another day.

Cypress Hills Interprovincial Park

East of Calgary, most of what people expect is prairie views for days. And despite some dips in the landscape because of the Canadian Badlands, that is mostly what you get. At least until you arrive at Cypress Hills, just a few dozen kilometers from the Hat.

The hills come up suddenly and unexpectedly, rising to the same altitude as Banff, and making it the highest spot of land in Canada east of the Rockies. On the day we visited the weather again was a factor, a sharp wind preventing us from taking to the small lake by canoe as we were so eager to do. Instead, we took a walk on the Old Baldy trail, soaking in all of the alpine fresh air with the town of Elkwater just below us. Had the sun been in the sky, we would have run out of hours in the day just enjoying the views and activities on offer.

For food

There are few better quests in a tourist’s journey than that to find the best local food. And Medicine Hat proved to us that the foodie movement sweeping the world does not end at the big cities. The Hat and surrounding area offer a surprising number of excellent eateries.

Camp Cookhouse

Thankfully, the weather couldn’t stop us from eating here while we were in Elkwater, as we will declare it one of the best restaurants we have ever eaten at in Alberta. Started by a Top Chef Canada contestant and her partner, the Camp Cookhouse has a small but inspirational menu that has to be tasted to believe. Make the drive for the burger, and bring friends so that you can all sample each other’s plates.

Lela’s Place (The Chocolate Shop)

Given the name, we expected to walk into a candy store with few offerings on the menu, but what we found was indeed much better: an authentic homestyle diner serving up large quantities of fresh and diverse food. Don’t expect a streamlined hipster diner of modern day, Lela’s, now known as The Chocolate Shop, has been open since the 1930s and is a true piece of the city’s history.

Local Public Eatery

Excellent food in a large pub atmosphere with a huge selection of craft beer from the two local breweries is what Local Public Eatery is best known for. Most importantly for us though was the outstanding service that can be very hard to find these days.

Paradise Valley Golf Course

Wonderful coulee views, excellent service, a surprisingly diverse and delectable menu (this butter chicken was the best we’d had in a long while), and local music to be enjoyed every Friday night – this was a spot that we didn’t expect to like as much as we did.

For the big WIN

So there are a very few things that I have found myself to be better than Pete at, and that list is very short on athletic activities (except for axe throwing, which I thoroughly kicked his axe at). Not only will the Cottonwood Coulee Golf Course be memorable to us for its dramatic coulee location and the number of deer that crossed our path on the course, but also for the fact that I beat Pete.

(He will be quick to remind me that he won on the first nine, but that I bested him on the back, but I don’t care. That will likely be my one and only win ever, making Cottonwood my favourite golf course forever and ever and ever.)

For inspiration

Alberta is Canada’s most entrepreneurial province, of which we are proud to now say that we are a part of that community. Medicine Hat has seen its share of swings with a resource based economy, but what they have done to adapt in some cases is truly impressive. Medalta is a perfect example. With rare and rich deposits of high-grade ball clays nearby, plus the abundance of natural gas supplying cheap power, Medalta was once a high-production pottery factory that employed hundreds of people during its best days.

While the plant itself is now closed, the space was preserved to hold a museum, a beautiful hall regularly holding markets, photogenic kilns used for intimate dinners and concerts, and large artist workspaces. And next door is the Medicine Hat Brick and Tile Factory, abandoned after severe flooding in 2010, but now open for an intriguing tour that is only just a little bit spooky.

With five days on hunt throughout the city, we left with still more to be discovered – art walks, a deep dive into the historic Esplanade, plus more food and coffee spots left to unearth. We’ll make that happen on our next visit with Dad.

Where to Stay in Medicine Hat

To rest in between our scouting and hunting missions, we stayed at the Home Inn, just off the TransCanada Highway, which gave us easy access to all parts of the city. Our room was spacious but cozy, which allowed us to sleep well and comfortably sit and work when we needed to.

I’m not a person who believes in making resolutions, or the fact that a turn in the calendar is required in order to start anew. But somehow 2015 feels different.I feel like we’ve earned some freedom. That after working so hard this past year and proving that we are truly capable of making our own way, we now deserve to begin the playing hard part. In fact, for the first few days of the year, I couldn’t contain my excitement, and maybe drove Pete a little nuts. While we of course still have all kinds of work to do, I struggled to sit and do it. I was bouncing, beaming, glowing.

And as I tried to explain my feelings to him later while in a downright giddy mood, he looked me in the eyes and then down at my drink. Back to my eyes, and down to my drink again. That’s not it, I asserted, even though the Verger Sour in front of me – similar to a whisky sour but doused in cinnamon – was devilishly delicious and being guzzled like juice.

We had begun our first excursion of what we expect to be a phenomenal year, and despite the temperatures dipping outside to the lowest we’d seen them in a long while, I was embracing it all with gusto. Bring it on, 2015.

Bring it on, Charlevoix.

The small city of Baie-St-Paul, the heart of the Charlevoix region, inspires as much from the outside as within. The first view is an impressive one, winding into a deep valley forged by a massive meteor millions of years ago up against the mighty Saint Lawrence river, some say it is this galactic connection that gives this area such a special feel. While it is easy to lose track of time enjoying the view from above, (like we did, gazing at the sinking sun late in the afternoon), life in the city below has just as much draw.

There is an impressive number of galleries that are representative of the vibrant and diverse community surrounding. Quaint cafes and restaurants line the quiet streets, many with a focus on supporting the local community in their offerings. And then there’s the bay itself, a small stretch against the river, we played in a mix of sand and snow for our January visit. A chill wind whipped around us, but any coastal place with beautiful light is enough to draw out our cameras and playful nature.

From there, a short drive took us directly to the Hotel La Ferme. We don’t often divulge many details about the hotels we stay at around the world, but La Ferme was a grand and inspiring experience unto itself.

And that is where I celebrated my new life view over the delectable Verger Sour, where Pete raved about a strong dark beer from a local brewery, and we gorged on some seriously creative cuisine of local specialities including lamb, foie gras, and more. This after an hour spent luxuriating in their Nordic Spa. Wearing nothing but bathing suits and toques, we carefully scattered down the stone path in -20C temperatures to the +40C tub waiting for us outside. Snow blew across the top of the water, steam rose off of bodies as they emerged, and we snuck into a dimly lit corner to soak. I insisted that we play who-could-keep-their-toes-in-the-cold-air-the-longest, but quickly lost. Back inside we alternated between the hot saunas and rubbing our skin down at the snow fountain, before enjoying the quiet room.

We did it a bit backwards though, it seemed, and we longed for the heat and relaxation of the sauna after the following day, as we happened to choose the coldest of all our time in Quebec to hit the ski hill nearby.

This isn’t a hill for beginner-beginners, our guide JB reminded us, after I made him ski an entire 5kms backwards. In truth I probably reminded him of that, given my tentativeness and sheer lack of skills, and his need to keep a watchful eye. After only truly experiencing skiing for the first time the year before, I was nervous and took to the hill so gingerly while others flew around me. The hill was busy, some of the sections a little tight, and my cocky play-hard attitude from the night before evaded me a bit. I forced us to follow the route facile signs all the way down.

My hesitance was rewarded however, when about halfway down, the trees opened up and the mighty Saint Lawrence came into view. This is the highest hill in Canada east of the Rockies, and serves up a perspective like none other.

At times it appeared that we may hit a rise and ski right off into the water. This is when I didn’t mind at all being the slow-poke on the hill – my frequent stops meant a bit more chill would creep in, but also left me to gaze in admiration at our surroundings.

After my one long run, I was spent. (Skiing with the “brakes on” all the way down is hard on the knees.) Pete continued for two more runs and I retreated to the lodge. I relaxed and took much pleasure from steaming hot chocolate, the panorama, and conversation with other skiers.

Our stay in the area and my ventures on the hill may have been brief, but they were intensely relished, and set the proper tone for the new year. It provided just a taste of our big adventures yet to come.

Where to Stay in Charlevoix

Charlevoix is a just over an hour drive from Quebec City, but is also accessible by train during the summer months.

Le Massif de Charlevoix ski hill sits just outside Baie-St-Paul, while its hotel La Ferme sits in it (guests can also take a train that runs from the hotel to the base of the ski hill). On the base of a burned barn, the hotel has won numerous high level awards and is well-deserving of every accolade for its style, sustainability practices, and commitment to the local community. It is a very inclusive complex, with everything from gorgeous suites to hostel dorm rooms.

“There’s an Einstein!” our guide Hayley called out, referring to the mother and two cubs (mc2, get it?) a few hundred metres away. Polar bears, despite what I had expected, are actually quite easy to spot on the open tundra. Their ivory fur stands out sharply against the white landscape. They sat curled up together, appearing as one giant bundle of fur with three heads. They, like most of the other bears we encountered, were napping to conserve their energy.

Visiting the Polar Bears in Churchill, Manitoba

It had been many months since having a proper feast, and the upcoming hunt for seals would require all the strength they had in store. Hayley then anxiously pointed out the male approaching them. Polar bears will turn on each other in hunger even if those cubs were his spawn, that hungry male would not stop from eating them.

He was getting dangerously close. The mother, being downwind, couldn’t smell him and her head was turned the other way. My instincts clawed at me to open a window and scream in warning, but instead my hands flew up to my mouth and covered it. Our tour group all stood silent, waiting, staring, willing the mother to notice his advance. He seemed to get so close until she finally noticed and prodded her cubs into action. As they began to put distance between themselves and danger, the male gave up his pursuit. He deemed it unworthy of the energy required to chase, and was probably smart to do so. Female bears are less likely to overheat than males, giving her a distinct advantage on that unseasonably warm day.

It used to be that hunting was the greatest threat to these icons of the Arctic. Now, it’s changes in the climate.

Although often accompanied by a sharp wind, we were surprised at the moderate temperature during our visit in late November. -10C was the coldest it got during the day and the sun surprised us often. Our tour was one of the last for the season and on arrival we could spot why. With ice starting to form on the edge of the Hudson’s Bay, soon the bears would be able to venture out onto it entirely and begin the annual seal hunt. But then the day after our arrival, a fierce wind blew all of the ice off the water. The freezing process would have to begin again, and the bears would remain hungry for a few extra days.

Although estimates are difficult to get, as polar bears live in remote areas that are difficult or expensive to get to, the current total number is roughly 26,000. And one of the most closely studied populations is this one near Churchill – where 27% of that population has declined since the 1980s and we were told that a new report soon to be released states it has dropped even further. Fewer young are surviving and fewer older bears are present – they are not living as long as they used to.

These bears are vulnerable, as are many species in the Churchill area. As the climate changes all around, red foxes are beginning to creep north, battling and dominating Arctic foxes, while snow geese are moving south.

The balances are tipping.

Despite knowing their grievous plight, in real life, it is easy to believe that polar bears just want nothing more than snuggles. They aren’t aggressive or territorial like other bears. They make no sound except for slight gripes to each other, and several approached our buggy with what appeared to be only genuine curiosity. A young pair, brother and sister, pushed their pivoting noses up against the heavy steel grill that lined the open back floor. As much as we were instructed to be quiet, we all let out tiny gasps of delight and shuffled about to get a closer look.

I crouched low to hear and feel their breath. There was no growl, no baring of teeth. Neither of them gave off any hint of offence, and I wanted so badly to reach my fingers down and feel their leathery noses.

I knew, however, that either of those bears, or any of them really, would swipe and snap at any exposed part of my body given the opportunity. And it wouldn’t be due to anger or their feeling attacked, but just because they wanted to eat me. I thought about how it had been several months since they feasted on their desired seal blubber and kept my fingers to myself.

They withdrew, peered up at us conspicuously, jumped and stretched up the side of the buggy for a closer look, settled back down, and then wandered off. While we ate our lunch from safely within, the pair rolled around luxuriously on the nearby ice. They did so without a care in the world, so it seemed, gently swatting and nibbling at each other. It was an unexpected spectacle of loving play, and once again any vision I had of a hungry and vicious polar bear was dashed.

How could something so darling be so deadly?

It’s funny how quickly we attach human emotion to something not human.

In the very last hour of our very last day, we found her. Our driver, having heard over the radio of another Einstein nearby, was taking us over there for what would likely be our last encounter of the trip. But a solo female was coming straight for us so we decided to stop. It was rare that we would have a bear to ourselves without other buggies around.

She was young, 3 to 4 years old our guide guessed, and at first seemed just as curious as the others. She wandered around the back, peered up through the grill, but then suddenly just curled up by the back passenger tire and rested her head on one of her giant paws.

And that was it. She just stayed there. She lifted her head every once in awhile if we were a bit too noisy, but otherwise had decided that the perfect spot to nap would be beside us.

It seemed a shocking display of trust, and neither our driver or guide quite knew what to make of her. After several minutes of blocking the track, when we had to move to let other buggies by, she followed. We stopped again and she ambled up behind us and took up the same spot by the tire.

It was the colder of our two days on the tundra but I could barely be budged off of that open back; I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. It was, in the purest sense of this overused word, the most unbelievable experience with nature I have ever had. Something stirred deep in my soul.

Finally, after indulging many moments of silence and awe, we had to leave in order to make our plane. It was agonizing to see her head hung low and with woeful eyes staring up as we drove away. We were all convinced that she was lonely and desperate for our interaction. For our soothing reassurance. For our snuggles. I was not the only one with tears in my eyes as the distance grew between us.

But polar bears don’t feel loneliness, we were told. In reality, her only thought would have been one of hunger. And how she was likely many days away yet from satisfying it.

How To See the Polar Bears in Churchill

Here is the top-rated Tundra Buggy Experience in Churchill. Included with the tour is ound-trip transportation from the Fifty Eight North life style shop in Churchill to the Tundra Buggy launch site along with a picnic style lunch and refreshments.

Note that transportation from Winnipeg to Churchill is not included. There are a number of options for getting to Churchill. You can easily get there via plane or train (there is no road that goes all the way there). For a more luxurious experience, there are day trips from Ottawa, Edmonton, and other destinations.

For us, we had a two-day experience on the tundra. An we have so much appreciation for this excursion with Frontiers North Adventures, which gave us two days on the tundra and two days exploring Churchill. Our time on the buggy of course brought our favourite moments and we were well taken care of during our hours exploring with a well-kept vehicle and plenty of delicious food.

On the second day, we were accompanied by JoAnne Simerson from Polar Bears International who provided a wealth of information. PBI does a lot of work in the area and the world to bring to light the story of the polar bears, including tracking some of the bears that go out onto the Bay (this is our favourite part of their website)!