At least once every summer, I find myself thanking Mother Nature for making Whistler’s bears a dark, bush-clashing black rather than, say, a camouflaging shade of green.
As it stands, you often see the bears easily from a distance, so you can plot a safe route around or back the way you came.
Often, but not always—and it’s easy to get complacent when you live in bear country.
Every spring we see the trails covered in their poop, notice them grazing the golf courses or going about their own business.
Some of us get dangerously complacent, to the point where we’ll calmly waltz right by a big, fuzzy black bear, sometimes with dogs and/or kids in tow.
But you never know when things might go sideways, and fast.
It’s been a troubling start to the season for Whistler’s bears.
A lactating female bear was shot and killed in late April after it attacked a woman walking her dog in Kadenwood. A video of the bear’s cubs crying at the base of a tree sparked outrage in the resort, and calls for wildlife reform from the community.
In recent weeks, another mama bear garnered attention as she moved about the valley with her three yearling cubs.
Living as I do in the neighbourhood the family is frequenting, I’m very familiar with these bears, and have spotted all four more than once.
Their presence has meant a change in our comfortable routines: different trails at different times of the day, where we know they’re less likely to be hanging out; much less off-leash time than we’re used to.
The best thing we can do is give the bears space, and remember they’re not a tourist attraction—as pointed out by local Emily McCosh, who captured a video of a classic “bear jam” on Highway 99 last week.
A mama bear and her cubs prompted several people to pull over on the highway to get a better view, with some even getting close to the bears themselves.
“Bears are not tourist attractions. Why are you stopping? There’s clearly cubs and a mum bear … I don’t understand what compels you to get close to a wild animal,” McCosh told Pique, adding the people who pulled over did not appear to be part of the same group.
“I was just so shocked to see how stupid people were being,” she said.
It’s not just black bears. Reports of a grizzly sighting near Myrtle Philip Community School and Nicklaus North Golf Course prompted staff at the school to initiate a hold-and-secure protocol May 26 and modify outdoor activity plans as conservation officers monitored the situation.
In 2024, the BC Conservation Officer Service (COS) received 93 grizzly bear calls in the Sea to Sky zone, and 35 in Whistler—down from 125 and 73 the year prior, respectively.
Total Human/Wildlife Conflict Report (HWCR) calls were also way down in Whistler year over year, from 743 in 2023 to just 201 in 2024. For the Sea to Sky, HWCR calls dropped from 5,157 in 2023 to 4,187 in 2024.
Vigilance is key when it comes grizzlies, and wildlife encounters in general. The COS no longer communicates with media directly about wildlife conflicts, instead notifying the RMOW, which utilizes its own channels to get the information out at its discretion.
“If there is an urgent message to communicate, there will be boots-on-the-ground officers ensuring that gets done—COS and possibly RCMP,” an RMOW communications official told Pique last spring.
“From our perspective, grizzlies will be part of our life in Whistler moving forward as long as we have a healthy ecosystem.”
But even when you’re being careful, nature can surprise you.
Case in point: heading home from our morning walk on May 29, during which we kept a keen eye out for black shapes moving amongst the green, the pup and I were surprised by a lone black bear munching on some overgrown grass in the ditch near our house.
All three of us—man, pup, bear—froze for a second. Then the bear started towards us.
We bolted up the driveway, thanking our lucky stars the bear decided not to pursue, and instead went back to happily munching his grass.
Whether or not you care to take it seriously, that encounter could have gone very differently.
And it came just a day after hearing a story from my home province, in which a small dog was attacked and killed by a black bear in Prince Albert National Park.
It’s rare, but it does happen.
Protecting Whistler’s wildlife means securing all attractants and food waste, properly disposing of garbage, keeping dogs on-leash, giving bears the space they need, and educating guests and visitors who may not know any better.
And above all, we can’t get complacent.
Find more info at coasttocascades.org and whistler.ca/bears.
