Exploring Chilko Lake, the Chilko River, and ROAM’s incomparable Bear Camp - Chapter 3 of Roam British Columbia: Chilko River & Lake

“Let’s find some glaciers and cool off” says Jessie our pilot, as we rise up and away from Squamish, turning slowly north over the Tantalus Range.

The sound from the twin props of the Cessna turn to a dull hum that is blocked partially by our headsets, and in every direction the jagged tops of British Columbia’s Coastal Mountains can be seen, their sides carved and bisected by streaks of white, and as we continue they are revealed to be enormous rivers of ice flowing down into, and creating, deep valleys that end in bright blue rivers and lakes.

As we travel across one such glacier and into its valley, we can see in the distance a large body of water, its deep turquoise surface streaked with the yellow pollen. Jessie informs us that this is Chilko Lake, the largest, natural, freshwater lake in North America and our final destination, and known as Tŝilhqox Biny to the Tsilhqotʼin the region’s original inhabitants and who still call this area home.

We land on a small airstrip, exit the plane, and are greeted by Ashley, who gestures us into a 4runner and takes us on short drive up to the postcard-perfect Bear Camp, situated on the Lake and near the head of the Chilko River.

We meet Eddy, the camp mascot, and after being handed a cold beer by Brian we follow Jesse down to jump in the lake.

That evening as we paddle out onto the lake on paddle boards, from the water we can see the raised safari style tents and buildings of Bear Camp set against the mountains. It is absolutely breath taking.

The following morning we set out with Grace towards Green Lake. Grace is a guide and the daughter of Bear Camp’s owner/operator Brian, and has grown up on these trails and seemingly knows every plant and animal we encounter.

We wind along the base of Mount Tullin and arrive at Green Lake, where Grace instructs us on how to forage for wild onions which we gather and bring back to use in our dinner.

That night the serotonin from our hike combines with ample libations and an evening summer thunderstorm to spark a dance party on the main deck. Dinner is remarkable, created by Brian and his team.

The following day we wake early for our first trip on the river. We don wetsuits and safety gear, and each climb into a “ducky”, a small, personal, inflatable kayak.

The river was at its highest level in over 50 years, meaning sections of the river would alternate between lethargic and extremely fast, making for a fun, adrenaline-infused float down to the “Bear Den”, a gorgeous tent camp setup amongst the pines and aspens along the river.

The next morning Ashley and Grace lead our group on a dramatic hike up from the water’s edge to the top of a nearby Ridgeline.

On the way we see numerous paw prints of the many grizzlies which inhabit the region, and as we cross the treeline out onto the summit of Mount Tullin, a vast, 360 view of the lake and the surrounding mountains is revealed.

Our group is in awe, and uses this as a perfect opportunity for our lunch break. Within our packed lunch is a homemade raspberry lemon bar that is utterly divine. It is by far the fan favorite of the group. I savor every last bite as I take in the view of the vast lake below.

The next day we opt for a relaxing morning, reading on the deck overlooking the lake watching eagles dive and fish in the distance. In the afternoon we set out again on paddle boards to an island in the middle of the lake to swim and jump off a series of ledges into the lake. We laugh and relax in the sun, enjoying the quietude.

That evening as we watch the sun drop down behind the mountains, Brian comes and tells us that the following day we will be going Heli Hiking up to Razorback Mountain. We are ecstatic.

The following morning we begin a day of days with a two hour drive to the heliport, meandering through the dense pine forest until we arrive at clearing. After a safety briefing we climb into helicopter and begin our journey, racing just above treetops and Bluff Lake before rising up high over the mountains and an enormous glacier.

We are dropped off at the foot of the glacier, and begin a dramatic hike up a ridge to a summit with incredible views as far as the eye can see. Surrounding us are glaciated mountains with rivers cutting through the lush valleys below, and wildflowers blanketing the near by alpine meadow.

Far below we can see the helicopter land next to the glacier fed lake, and after our lunch we begin our hike back down, our hearts full.

The next day the only sound I can hear is my own breathing and the sound of my paddle dipping into the lake as we wind around a rocky bend, which reveals the far end of the lake seemingly miles distant.

Travis and Whitney are leading our small flotilla, and we settle into an almost hypnotic rhythm of exploration before winding a bend to see two enormous grizzlies feeding on a field of berries.

Over the last few years a network of mountain biking trails has been built near Choelquoit Lake, and the next day Travis, Brendan, and I bum a ride to the trailhead where we spend the next several hours sending a beautiful network of single track.

We skip out on a ride back to camp, and opt to ride the entire way back to Bear Camp. The effort makes the dinner of steak and portobello mushrooms that much better.

The next day we set out down the river valley to Homathko River Inn where we meet Bonnie who will be our guide for a day of horseback riding.

We start low in the Tatlayoko Valley following the dirt road, and our small caravan is joined by a foal following her mother.

Eventually we reach an incredible viewpoint; the horses know the route by memory, and at one point I let my hands drop to my side to take it all in.

The next morning we wake to the smell of bacon, and we make our way up slowly out of cabins to see the guides preparing rafts, duckies, and associated safety equipment for what will be two days on the Chilko River.

The first half of our trip is leisurely and sublime, and we pass several bears on the shore before arriving at the Bear Den camp where we help to make camp.

The next morning as the sun burns off the fog, Brian prepares an amazing breakfast and we double down on bacon and BC-local Kicking Horse Coffee. Brian gives a safety talk, and we load our gear back into the boats.

The next several hours are a blur, as we descend the lower half of the Chilko which is at the highest it has been in 50 years.

For 18 miles the river descends nearly 3,000 vertical feet, and the high water has turned already-adrenaline-pumping Class IV rapids into Class V.

We make it to a rest point where the guides pause to inspect the upcoming Bidwell Rapid to make a plan of attack. To the untrained eye it looks small and manageable, and I severely underestimate what we are about to encounter.

Whitney our guide goes over (again) the commands and how we need to respond. We would be the last boat to go.

Setting out river quickly increases in speed, and soon we are dropping into rapids that tower 5 feet overhead. We hit the first of the 3 rapids on the Bidwell, and something is off and we are not pointed in the correct direction. Suddenly I feel weightless as our raft is pointed straight up and perpendicular to the river and we are launched in the air.

All I could think about was staying in the raft before Brendan slams into me as he could not stay on the upright, and then the crashes back down as quick as it went up. We let out a collective cheer before I hear “Swimmer!”

Whitney, in all of the chaos, was jettisoned from her seat and into the water. Paddles in hands she was still screaming commands at us for us to paddle as the danger wasn’t over with yet.

She somehow grabs the side of the boat and pulls herself back in, only to be tossed out again. This time I turned around and grabbed one of the straps on her PFD and helped pull her back into the boat. At this point we were stuck in an eddy between a fallen tree and the cliff wall.

Whitney takes control of the boat and helps us regain our composure, calming us down, before instructing us to paddle back out into the river and the next rapid, The White Mile.

The water is swift, and the waves are big, but nothing like Bidwell, and my confidence grows and I feel like we can handle anything.

Suddenly I am launched from the boat. It all happens in slow motion, and as I hit the water a rush of adrenaline and survival instincts kick in. All I hear is Brian’s voice from our safety briefing telling us to grab the rope that lined the raft if we were tossed out, and I grab it mid air and started yelling for Brendan to pull me back in.

There is no way I am getting back in the raft on my own. With nothing to push off of to get back in I need someone to pull me in, and Brendan and the rest of the team grab the straps on my personal flotation device to drag me back in.

The rest of the float is idyllic. As we arrive at the take-out point I want to kiss the ground, and I look up to see a guide reach out with a sandwich and beer. I laugh.

That night we recount our adventures over dinner at the KiNiKiNiK Restaurant, where almost all the foods are local, pasture-to-table. I walk outside to and watch the sky fade from pink to blue in the late summer sunset.