I was well aware that Churchill, Manitoba– a small community located about 1,000 kilometres North of Winnipeg, Manitoba–was the Polar Bear Capital of the World. What convinced me of this fact even more, however (other than the dozens of road signs, murals, sculptures and decals spread evenly throughout the town), was our arms-bearing guide, Brian Bruce.
In particular, it was Brian’s gun that reaffirmed the fact that we were at a glimpse notice, possibly meeting-and-greeting a bear. Now don’t get me wrong. Brian didn’t come to meet us with a gun on his shoulders. Nor is he the typical, man-of-the-woods type you’d expect to be toting a gun. His metal rifle was wedged between the seats of our tour van. Also, he is a soft-spoken and kind man, who moved here with his wife, Beth, and together they help run the Lazy Bear Lodge.
This probably added to the shock factor.
As Brian explained, the gun is just a “just-in-case” solution to an unexpected encounter with a bear. Although the majority of the bear activity happens during October and November when the bears move back from the tundra to seal-hunting territory, during the summer periods, the bears frequent the city for their walking hibernation stage. How lovely.
Now, the stories in Churchill are laden in history, and any missing bits can be filled in by the extraordinary eyewitness accounts of locals who have lived here for generations; like the story about our lodge, the Lazy Bear, and how it was built, hand-by-hand, by owner Wally Daudrich. It’s unbelievable, but the log cabin lodge could be in Architectural Digest.
The interior is filled with wrought-iron hanging chandeliers, varnished logs that make up the dining room furniture and other structurally necessary bits, and sandstone fireplaces are everywhere. (So far, I’m digging the spruce aromas, the unmatched raw log panels, and the Wi-Fi in the tiny living room-and-lobby area the most.)
But besides these details, Brian and Beth’s adventures also deserve to be penned. On our way to Cape Merry, a national historic site (and after observing my enthused yelp at the site of belugas surfacing in the river), Brian explained that he also basks in the spiritual feeling a beluga sighting brings. There is an ethereal beauty in the immediate interaction you share with these creatures that is beyond wild.
At this time of year the sightings are frequent, because there are about 3,000 belugas that come close to the shore. They’re feeding on capelin, shedding their old layers and feeding their babies. This magical occurrence led Brian and Beth to answer their call-of-the-wild and move from South Manitoba to here. (When not here, they’re in Baja, California spending time with dolphins or kayaking the Nahanni River in the Northwest Territories.)
Passing Jockville, an area where the Cree would come to summer and trade fur long ago, we got out of the car and walked on top of the bare-and-grey land, also known as whacky quartzite. Covered by the orange-and-green hued lichen moss, the willows, arctic avens and buttercups added some necessary colour. By now, the wind was completely breaking speed on my loose fitting jacket, and I had to pull my toque down low to save my face from suffering windburn. But somehow, I managed to stay completely mystified by this experience and wanted more.
We visited the Eskimo Museum and drove by another Brian’s place, Brian Ladoon, who breeds Canadian Eskimo dogs. Soon after, we were back to talking shop. Brian was a high school teacher before all of this touring business, dealing with pesky teenagers, not inquisitive tourists. He says sometimes the local bear conservation officers “jail” bears that wander into town. (It’s officially called the Polar Bear Compound.)
He joked that the teenager bears (or as they’re called by the officers, the sub-adult bears) are the most likely to be caught and contained. Giggling at the term sub-adult, we also told Brian about our teenage years and complemented him for choosing to teach young adults at such an awkward age.
Back in the car, Brian commented with surprise after we told him about our schedule and the nature of our work. I think he appreciated what we do and admires our youthful outlook on life, but he couldn’t imagine always being online, near a cell phone tower, and updating a Facebook acount.
“You know life has really changed,” says Brian. “Beth and I like taking the train from Thompson sometimes. It’s nice, slow and nobody can get a hold of you.” I smile, but I’m already thinking of all the emails I have to send this afternoon. Being aware of our differences, I’m glad we share a similar respect for nature and the experiences it provides.
Read more about what Churchill blogs about here, here or here.
While I’m a contributor to We Blog the World, the below blog post is the copyright of the Canadian Tourism Commission. Please link back and credit all content used to Canada is a Big Place. You can also check us out on Flickr and @biglaceblog.
Victoria Revay is a broadcaster, journalist and on-air personality. She has worked at BCTV on the Global Desk and regularly filled in for Pia Shandel’s show on CFUN 1410 am as a radio producer.
She was channel editor, citizen-journalism hustler and video presenter for Now Public, has appeared as a new media expert and trend/lifestyles expert on shows such as City TV’s Breakfast Television, CKNW 980, CBC radio and the Leo Laporte Show on G4Tech TV.
