A Bear called Apple

She was the first wild grizzly bear that Kristin and I ever saw. As we came around a corner one October afternoon she sat in the middle of a wide trail, so stuffed with apples she could barely move, under the tree she had just been denuding.

The first thought that entered our heads was to flee. But this bear seemed if anything a little comical, certainly not menacing. She scratched and grunted and tried to raise herself awkwardly into a standing position as if preparing for a formal introduction.

That first sighting of a wild grizzly bear seemed auspicious for Kristin and I, recently arrived from Europe. We had already put down a small deposit on Grizzly Bear Ranch and were trying to wheedle more financing out of reluctant banks to make the place ours.

Four months later, mortgage secured, we arrived with all our belongings in two heavily-laden vehicles on a snowy late winter day. Over the years the bear we had seen that day became an integral part of our lives.

Apple, as we began to call her after the eponymous fruit that she so liked to gorge on, furnished me with much of my early bear knowledge. She was a good teacher.

At times she would deign to walk within a dozen feet of me without a raised eyebrow, but on others, especially when she was on a kill or felt hemmed in, she would become wilder, huffing and moving her head anxiously at the first sign of my approach.

I learned to watch the position of her ears, the subtle open and closing of her mouth, and the stiffness of her body posture, all indicators of her mood and intent.

Several years later Apple had two cubs and we watched them grow up, returning to our valley each year to feed on the salmon. For many of our guests she was the first grizzly bear they ever saw. Sometimes we watched her stride like a monarch along the dirt road next to the ranch.

On other days she would dextrously feed on red-osier dogwood berries that grow alongside the river. More than one guest over the years stood in awe, tears rolling down their faces, after an ephemeral early-morning meeting with this wild grizzly bear on the banks of our misty river.

Locally she became something of a celebrity too. Her image hung in photo galleries in the nearest town. Once, thanks to a timeless photo taken by my friend Jakob, she graced the cover of the Wall Street Journal. And then in 2015, just as she was rearing her second set of cubs, she disappeared. She was almost certainly shot by a trophy hunter. Her cubs returned alone.


We were angry and bereft. But anger alone doesn’t get you anywhere. The only thing we could do was redouble our efforts to try and get the grizzly hunt banned for good. It really should have been a no-brainer. More than 90 per cent of British Columbia residents oppose the hunting of grizzly bears.

Grizzly-viewing brings at least 10 times as much into the provincial coffers as grizzly hunting. Grizzlies have been listed as a “species of special concern” and one population, according to the government’s own numbers, has dropped 40 per cent in population while under a “managed” hunt.

Yet still the politicians maintained that grizzly hunting was laudable. And still the bureaucrats in the ministry fought tooth and nail to keep the hunt alive. It was as if their jobs depended on having a grizzly hunt, and, for some, it may have.

And then finally in the summer of 2017 we had a breakthrough. After a provincial election a new premier of BC was elected, a man who had already visited the ranch and seen our operation for himself. He agreed to ban the trophy hunting of grizzly bears in BC as of the end of the year.

At the time of writing, we still don’t know exactly what they will mean. The government say hunters will still be allowed to hunt grizzlies for meat, but since none do, we are not sure what this will mean.

One thing is sure, however. We can’t do any of this without you, our guests. For every guest we have we take $100-$150 and put it into Apple’s Fund. And this money we spend on local conservation initiatives and to try and get all grizzly bear hunting banned.

If you like to become a part of the drive to ban grizzly hunting in BC forever and donate to our conservation fund, we would be most grateful.

Our donors

Many, many thanks to those of you who have already donated. Without you we couldn’t be doing what we are to help bear conservation.


Gold donors ($500 or more)

  • Heather and Mike Johnson
  • David Lippincott and Maggie McCracken
  • Allan Wheatley
  • Jenny and Tony Stanton


Silver Donors ($100 to $500)

  • Jim and Lizzie Harbach and family
  • Ollie Biggins
  • Denise Gubersky
  • Nick Fisher and family
  • Sam Smart and family
  • Alan Hunter
  • Ginny Stainton
  • Zoltan Markus
  • Lorraine Hughes
  • Geraldine Strauss
  • Craig Simpson
  • Michael Morgan
  • John E. Marriott
  • Larry Laux
  • Edward Baring
  • Jane Lucas
  • John and Gerry Goodacre
  • Steven and Vicki Paterson
  • Lizzie Chan
  • Clare and Mark Ryder
  • Christine Nallaratnam
  • Lucy Roberts
  • Isabel Roberts
  • Kim and Neil Bowden


Bronze Donors (under $100)

  • Jacqueline Hoare
  • Robert Rae
  • Paul Hill
  • Bruce Thompson
  • Adele Page
  • Dawn Gray
  • Anthony Feldhusen
  • Sean Wilson
  • Robert Kalman
  • Phil Gruis
  • Andrea Wilkie
  • Cherie Wasoff
  • Rory Carlton Paget
  • Laura Mccamley


If we have missed any donors please let us know and we will certainly add your name to the growing list of those who have contributed.