Bears, Steelhead & Northern Lights: A Wild Week in Northern British Columbia (Alaskan Road Trip Part 5)
Returning to the Pharmacy and Getting Back on the Water
We started the morning back at the pharmacy.
Kyle’s thumb had become a real concern at this point, and the pharmacist didn’t sugarcoat it. He examined it carefully, gave us clear instructions on ointment and bandaging, and warned us to watch for red streaks or worsening symptoms. If that happened, we were told to head to emergency immediately because of the risk of serious infection.
It was one of those sobering travel moments where adventure and reality collide.
We left with supplies, a plan, and a better understanding of how serious it could become if it didn’t improve.
Afterward, I grabbed another iced pumpkin cold brew from Buckwood Coffee. It was one of those small moments that somehow becomes unforgettable—the kind of coffee that tastes even better because of everything happening around it.
From there, we stopped at a local shop where a woman helped us sort out fishing access details and even shared information about a private shuttle system on the river. Conversations like that always end up shaping the trip more than we expect.
Then we headed back toward the Bulkley River.
First Cast Success on the Bulkley River
When we reached the river, everything felt electric.
It didn’t take long before we found fish.
Steelhead were in the system, and almost immediately Kyle was into them. One after another, he started connecting while I worked the water beside him, watching the river shift between glassy calm and fast-moving seams.
There’s something about steelhead fishing that feels both frustrating and addictive. You can spend hours without a touch, and then suddenly everything changes in a single cast.
That day was one of those moments for Kyle.
Multiple fish.
Pure momentum.
We celebrated quietly between casts, aware of how rare days like that can be.
Eventually, hunger pulled us off the water, and we decided on pizza for dinner.
Pizza, Mountain Views, and One Unexpected Bear Encounter
We grabbed pizza and ate it on the way back toward the river, still talking about the fishing earlier in the day. Snow had started to dust the surrounding mountains, and the entire valley felt like it was slowly shifting seasons in real time.
Before fully calling it a night, we made one more stop at the river.
This time I stayed in the car eating while Kyle went down to fish again.
He came back with stories almost immediately he had landed more steelhead, but also noticed something else moving in the trees.
Bears.
Multiple sightings.
At one point, while we were still nearby, a black bear appeared close to the riverbank, completely unbothered by us. It moved slowly through the trees, scratching and rubbing against bark, almost performing this strange, comedic behavior that made the moment feel surreal instead of threatening.
Eventually another bear appeared.
We decided that was our cue to leave.
On the way out, we stopped for gas station dessert Ben & Jerry’s and headed back to camp, both of us still processing how casual and wild that entire afternoon had been.
Floating the Bulkley River with a Guide and New Lessons
The next day brought something completely different: a float trip.
We met Shannon at a low bridge launch point. She was warm, experienced, and immediately gave off the kind of calm energy you want in someone guiding you through unfamiliar water.
She asked about our travels, and we learned a bit about her life too how she splits time between guiding, personal work, and long seasonal stays abroad.
From there, we launched into the Bulkley River.
Being on the water in a canoe changed everything.
The river felt faster, louder, and more connected than when we were standing on shore. Because fishing from a vessel wasn’t allowed in this section, we had to drift past every promising run and make decisions carefully about when and where to stop.
At one point, we did hook into a beautiful steelhead while briefly paused along the bank. It was a moment of excitement followed quickly by awareness and respect for the rules and the system in place.
We continued downstream, taking in the scenery as rain began to drift in and out. The river had shifted since the previous day sections that were fishable had already changed with rising water and sediment.
By the end of the float, we were soaked, tired, and completely in awe of how quickly the river could transform.
Rain, Hot Coffee, and Slow Camp Days
Back at camp, the weather shifted again.
We made hot drinks, warmed up by the fire, and let the day settle into something slower. After so much movement, these pauses started to feel just as important as the action.
Inside the hot tent, I worked on editing while snow began to show up on the surrounding peaks. The transition from fall into early winter was happening right in front of us.
It felt like time was speeding up.
And at the same time, everything around us was slowing down.
Bears, Logging Roads, and a Day That Felt Like Wilderness
One of the most intense days of the trip took us deep into the backcountry on a logging road.
The drive itself was long, remote, and increasingly wild the further we went. Lakes stretched out below snow-covered mountains, and the terrain felt completely untouched.
We saw our first bear along the road early in the drive a massive brown bear moving across the landscape.
Shortly after, deer crossed in front of us, unsure of where to go, almost like they were reacting to something we couldn’t see.
By the time we reached the river, everything felt heightened.
There were signs of bear activity everywhere tracks, scat, disturbed shoreline areas. Even the atmosphere felt different.
A conservation officer eventually stopped to check in, asking how we were doing and reminding us to stay aware in the area.
Not long after, we witnessed one of the most unforgettable wildlife scenes of the trip: multiple bears moving along the river, fishing and interacting with the water in ways we had never seen before.
We stayed for hours watching.
It was beautiful, intense, and completely humbling.
Steelhead, Weather Shifts, and a Burned Hand
That same stretch of days brought both highs and lows.
Fishing continued to be productive in bursts, but conditions changed quickly depending on weather and water clarity. Some days were excellent. Others were completely shut down.
At one point, I burned my hand badly while cooking over the fire. It was one of those small mistakes that instantly becomes a lasting reminder of how quickly things can go wrong in camp life.
The rhythm of the trip was starting to feel heavier physically and emotionally.
We were still moving forward, but also starting to feel the weight of everything catching up.
The Glacier Hike Through Snow and Light
Eventually, we set out for one of the biggest hikes of the trip.
Snow had been building in the mountains all week, and we weren’t sure if we would even get a clear window to attempt it.
By early afternoon, we decided to go for it.
The trail climbed quickly into snow-covered terrain. At times we were stepping through ankle-deep snow, questioning the route and our timing, but also completely committed to the experience.
Halfway up, the clouds broke.
Sunlight hit the valley below, and a rainbow stretched across the entire landscape.
It was one of the most surreal views of the trip.
We made it to the top carefully, took in the view, and then began the slow descent back down careful, cold, and completely exhausted.
That night, I cried on the way back to camp.
Not out of sadness, but out of gratitude for being there at all.
Northern Lights Over the Mountains
One of the most unforgettable nights of the entire trip happened almost by accident.
We stepped outside the motel area late in the evening, and without warning, the sky lit up with the northern lights.
Green and purple waves stretched across the sky above the mountains.
We stood there completely still, watching for nearly an hour.
It didn’t feel real.
It felt like the trip had saved one of its best moments for the very end.
Final Days on the River and a Chance Encounter
As the trip began to wind down, we squeezed in a few more days on the water.
Conditions were changing fast, but steelhead were still present in certain sections. One of the final fishing days brought unexpected success, along with a surprising encounter with traveling anglers from overseas who recognized our journey and stopped to talk.
We shared stories, river tips, and recommendations for future travel, and for a moment the entire experience felt connected in a way that stretched far beyond British Columbia.
Final Thoughts on Northern British Columbia
We had gone from summer travel into full autumn, and finally toward winter, watching snow build on mountains we had driven past just weeks earlier.
Northern British Columbia didn’t just give us fishing or scenery.
It gave us intensity, unpredictability, and moments that will stay with us far longer than any single catch or campsite.
And as we looked back at the mountains behind the motel one last time, it already felt like a place we would return to again someday.
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