CANADA: The Wild Call

By Adam 'Grey' Cochrane

In February 2009 I set off on my first big adventure. I didn’t really have any specific objective, there wasn’t really any meaning to it other than a feeling that I had. Something was calling me out there, so I packed all I could into my backpack and launched myself into the wilds of north west Canada in the depths of winter with no preparation and no training for what challenges I might face.

Vancouver to Nanaimo

For this first leg of my journey I would start in Coal Harbour in Vancouver, British Columbia where I boarded my first ever seaplane. It seated around 9 people and there was barely any room for luggage but lucky for me, all I had was my backpack. I was so excited to experience being on a seaplane. For the last year I had been living in Vancouver and had seen them taking off and landing in the harbour, wondering what it must be like to be in one and now here I was, starting my first big adventure in one. The engines were loud as we launched off from the waters of the harbour and into the air over Stanley park and the Lions Gate Bridge, all with the beautiful mountainous backdrop that Vancouver is famous for. Before long, the flight was over and came to a very bumpy end in the port of Nanaimo.

Nanaimo

Nanaimo is a small and quiet town on the Eastern coast of Vancouver island, with its old style colourfully painted wooden houses and stores in the Old City Quarter, and a small museum. The sun had begun to set when my friend's sister messaged the address and said she was home so to come by any time. The walk was a lot further than I had expected. It began to cross my mind that this journey of mine might be harder than I expected, and this was just the first day!

I arrived at the address and was greeted by my friend's sister and welcomed inside where I was introduced to her roommates. I dropped my bag in the room and joined everyone for dinner, where I learned my friend’s sister’s roommates were from the Snuneymuxw, a Coast Salish First Nation. I was fascinated. After a year in Vancouver, I'd only seen Indigenous culture in museums, often spoken of as if it were a thing of the past. But here were living voices, stories, and traditions. I listened, asked questions, and they welcomed my curiosity.

It saddened me to hear how even today they face isolation and hate, with fewer opportunities than others. I felt angry, helpless—how could people still be so cruel? I helped clean up and joined my friend's sister and a couple of the others on a trip to a local bar where they had live country music. The dark conversations of their troubles were pushed to the back of my mind as I enjoyed watching how a small community was happier together than I had seen anyone in the city who had “everything”.

Nanaimo to Tofino

The next day my hangover, my hefty bag and I made our exit on the next leg of the journey, this time I was headed north west to a small town tucked away in the forest on the coast of the island called Tofino. As I didn’t know where or when I would be going places on this adventure I’d purchased a Greyhound pass. The Greyhound buses seemed to cover almost any route between everywhere in Canada and with the pass I would be able to just hop on and off as I pleased. This was exactly the kind of freedom I needed while also guaranteeing my travel back to Vancouver when the time came.

It was a fairly long bus journey, long enough for my butt to get numb and uncomfortable, and I couldn’t wait to get off and stretch my legs which seemed ironic since the day before I’d done so much walking I began to question if I’d made a grave error embarking on this journey.

Not long after I’d given up all hope of ever feeling my cheeks again the view out of the bus windows were engulfed by large pine and fir trees and out of them emerged a very surreal little town with what seemed like no more than 20-30 buildings.

Tofino

I walked down the hill to the hostel by the water which was a big beautiful traditional looking log house surrounded by nature. It wasn’t the cheapest of hostels and I was going to have to forgo my comforts of being alone by sharing a room which had two bunk beds and two of them already had occupants. They were two friendly men in their early forties who explained that they were ex-cons. Safe to say, they were not what I was expecting from the prejudices about convicts being instilled on us when growing up. I pushed the unwarranted judgement to the back of my mind and saw these people for what they were; two people in Tofino just wanting to surf, be free and have a nice time and unfortunately for them were stuck sharing a room with me.

Morning broke and to my joy, I’d not been murdered in the night by the two ex-cons. I went down to the kitchen and dining area to scope out some breakfast and saw the amazing view from the hostel across the water in the morning sun, the mist rising from the cold water as the warmth from the sun hit its surface for the first time today. Amazing, what a beautiful place!

I wandered around the town getting a few supplies before heading out to explore the surrounding area by foot. One trail led to another and before I knew it, I’d emerged out of the forest and onto the most stunning beach I’ve ever seen. The best part - nobody else was here. It seemed secluded, tucked away, like it had been unspoiled by humans for as long as time. A perfect place to sit and enjoy some peace and reflect on the journey so far.

I spent the rest of the day exploring this vast beach finding all sorts of interesting wildlife and scenery. This place was truly remarkable. A wooded hill along the side of the beach had a patch of trees scorched around the top and with a roughly circular clearing in the centre.

It reminded me of something I’d seen on one of the sci-fi shows I liked. So I observed it imagining the what-if scenarios of aliens coming to earth. Maybe, like me, they just try to find nice secluded beaches where they can escape and enjoy raw nature - unspoiled and unmanipulated by human hands.

As the sun began to set I made my way back to the hostel, retracing my steps along the beach and back through the forest.

As I descended the hill through the town to the hostel I noticed just how stunning Tofino was, what an amazing place this would be to live. This had been by far my favorite destination on this journey so far.

Tofino to Port Hardy

It had been another long bus journey from Tofino to the north of Vancouver Island so when the bus pulled in at a stop and everyone got off I had naturally thought that I’d arrived at my destination - the ferry terminal. How wrong I was! I’d grabbed some lunch knowing that the ferry wasn’t leaving for a few hours but then as I looked around I noticed that this wasn’t a ferry terminal, and there wasn’t one to be found anywhere. I got back to where the coach had let everyone off and the coach had gone. This hadn’t been my stop.

If I wasn’t where I needed to be, where was I, and how was I going to get to the ferry terminal. I found a local map - the ones that say “you are here” and then another map at the tourist office where I could get a bigger picture.

The good news; I was in Port Hardy, the bad news; I was on the wrong side of the horseshoe shaped bay that makes Port Hardy. I was going to have to start hoofing it 8 KM to the ferry terminal and I really didn’t have time for that. My ferry was due to leave in 2 hours and that’s a long fast walk, in the snow without snowshoes, and with no familiarity with the area.

Determined, I tightened the straps on my bag and set my stride to reach my destination in time. As I turned to make my first step a young blonde girl, probably too old for the teddy bear she was gripping tightly, but yet, too young to be travelling alone was staring at me. Before I could say a word she explained that she had got off the bus too early and was needing to be on the ferry to get home to Prince George.

She’d seen me make the same mistake and plotting my route and wanted to join me. I explained that it was a very long walk and I needed to move fast to make it in time and suggested she find a place to stay or a safer route. But she insisted. Concerned for her safety and realising it was safer with me than leaving her to the unknown in this port town I reluctantly agreed to be her guide.

The walk to the ferry terminal seemed straightforward enough, at least until you reached the other side, then it looked like dense wilderness. The endless walk down the icy road had started with pleasantries but realising the time was ticking away I encouraged the girl to pick up the pace, a while later it was clear I was more ready for this walk than she was as she was lagging quite far behind at this point. I was going to have to choose between getting to my ferry on time or making sure this girl isn’t left on her own in the wilderness.

Naturally, I chose the latter of the two options and dropped my pace to meet back up with her.  We’d been walking down what I hoped was the right road with nothing around us but trees. I looked at my watch with wishful thinking. It was going to take a miracle for us to get to the ferry on time. My mind wandered to the stories you’d hear of people going missing just like this only to be found years later - or what’s left of them having become a meal for some bear.

A low rumble behind us caused me to peek over my shoulder, to my relief, it wasn’t a bear or a wolf, it was a green VW “hippie” van. It drove past us and a short distance in front pulled over. Out popped a young woman who I could now see was living up to the “hippie” character tropes, even the bumper stickers on her van were fitting “what would Buddha do?”.

She was also headed for the ferry and told us to hop in. So, despite the many times I’d been warned not to hitchhike, we agreed to the ride with enthusiasm, launching ourselves and our bags into the van where we met her lovely dog. We were going to make the ferry, and all thanks to this lady, her dog and Buddha. We arrived at the ferry terminal with only a few minutes to spare - just enough to get checked on and barely enough time to find a seat.

Port Hardy to Prince Rupert

The ferry had set off from Port Hardy and begun its long 16 and a half hour journey north through the islands that scatter the west coast of Canada and it was easily one of the most visually pleasing boat rides I had embarked on. As the sun set I snapped a few photos from the back of the ferry, the towering islands on either side in the glow of the fading sun. The girl from Port Hardy had seemingly found comfort in familiarity and decided to stick out the journey with me. She made her “bed” a couple of seats down, snuggling up with her teddy bear and blanket while I did all I could not to fall off the seat while trying to find a position I could be comfortable in.

Safe to say, I didn’t sleep much in the rigid seat but I found solace in the challenge I’d set myself after seeing the “what would Buddha do” bumper sticker to see how long I could meditate for throughout the rest of the journey. Turns out, meditation and sleep aren’t interchangeable, but meditation can make for a good back up in desperate times.

I was already awake when the ferry finally reached the port in Prince Rupert. As we left the ferry, descending the ramp I watched as the girl I’d found in my care since Port Hardy was greeted by some people by a car in the parking lot. I didn’t stick around to find out the details but it was clear she was safe and in someone else’s care now. Prince Rupert was the most northern point of my journey and I wanted to do some exploring, this wasn’t a race, this was an exploration after all.

Prince Rupert

By the time I’d made it away from the dock it dawned on me, dawn was nowhere near, it was around midnight and I was going to need to find a place to stay the night. I reached the top of the hill and I spotted a hostel - that’s convenient. But, when I reached the door, there were no lights on and nobody was inside. I tried my luck with the doorbell and waited a moment. The door opened and inside a tall dark haired man probably in his thirties stood looming over me and welcomed me in. There were no lights on inside still, the man lurked in the dark and it was unclear if he worked there or not. He said there was room available and I’d asked if I should pay and sign in and he said to do that in the morning. I was exhausted so I wasn’t about to argue but something wasn’t sitting right about this situation, this guy gave me the creeps.

I entered the unoccupied room with two bunk beds… great, a room to myself! I unloaded the backpack and noticed a lock on the door and my gut instinct told me to lock it. I turned the light off and climbed into the top bunk. Not long after I heard someone trying to get into the room, I grabbed my small penknife. After a couple of moments of trying to get in, whoever was on the other side of the door gave in. I checked my watch to see it was past 1am now.

My immediate thought was that my gut feeling might have just saved me from something and I wasn’t about to stick around and find out the details so I got my stuff ready to go and kept one eye open as I rested, knife in hand. As soon as dawn broke, I broke out, sneaking out of the window and made a run for the town centre.

I arrived in the centre of town and found that bald eagles were everywhere! Soaring overhead, perched on signs, fences, and lampposts. Incredible!
I headed to the bay so I could catch a better look of them hunting the fish which is where I stumbled across a B&B. After last night, I was done with hostels, at least for now. I checked in and got a room with a view that looked out across the bay. Outside my window, perched on the fence a few feet away, was a huge bald eagle looking back at me.

Exploring Prince Rupert was great, there’s a few good nature trails that take you to some great viewpoints and of course, plenty of nature along the way.

The next morning I went to breakfast and a jolly old man with a big white beard asked what I would like to eat and encouraged me to ask or have anything I wanted from the buffet of options that had been laid out on the table.

I politely requested some scrambled eggs after much encouragement and while I and the other guests ate the man sat in a chair in the corner of the room and played his guitar. I was beginning to wonder, being so far north, this guy could genuinely be Santa… that would be ridiculous.

Prince Rupert to Jasper

To get from Prince Rupert to Jasper I switched up my mode of transport again, this time to the train. It wasn’t the fanciest of trains but it would get me from A to B. It was a quiet train, only a handful of passengers and with a friendly train conductor who was most curious about people’s journeys, everyone quickly became familiar. I’m admittedly not the most extroverted person and like to keep to myself but I did enjoy talking with the conductor who told me all about the history of the train line we were travelling on and fun facts about the towns we were travelling through.

The railway was originally built by the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway (GTPR), which was a subsidiary of the Grand Trunk Railway (GTR). The president of both was Charles Melville Hays—a key figure in the development of the Prince Rupert to Jasper line. Charles Melville Hays had grand ambitions for the GTPR, envisioning Prince Rupert as a major Pacific port to rival Vancouver. He played a central role in selecting Prince Rupert as the western terminus and was heavily involved in promoting and financing the railway.

In April 1912, Hays traveled to England to negotiate funding for the railway’s continued expansion. On his return to Canada, he boarded the RMS Titanic with his wife, daughter, and son-in-law. Charles Melville Hays died in the Titanic disaster when the ship sank on April 15, 1912. His death was a massive blow to the GTPR, which soon after fell into financial trouble.

At one point they even arranged for the train (formerly known as the “Skeena”) to stop in the middle of nowhere. This was because of another fun fact about this train line. One of the Skeena’s distinctive features is the use of "flag stops." In these remote areas, passengers can signal the train to stop by placing a high-visibility item, like a jacket or flag, beside the tracks. This system allows residents and adventurers in isolated regions to access the train, making it an essential service for communities along the route.

We passed through several small towns where only a handful of houses and buildings were visible. The snowfall had been so heavy that they had needed to tunnel out of their houses and businesses to keep things moving - everyone must have had a snowmobile around these parts.

We passed surreal scene after surreal scene until the sun began to descend once more and we pulled into Prince George where I’d need to stay the night before rejoining the train in the morning. I walked into town with the conductor as he’d have to stay there the night too. I found myself at a motel with a room available before going out to try to find some dinner. The town was completely frozen and not a soul was outside. I stumbled across a Tim Hortons and got the chilli meal combo - not the most luxurious meal but it was good enough to fill my appetite before retiring for the night at the motel.

The next morning I woke up bright and early. I checked out and headed down to the train where the conductor was waiting and greeting people aboard. He’d said that today there were even fewer passengers and recommended the train car with a glass roof for this leg of the journey as we’d be travelling through the Rocky Mountains and it wasn’t a view I’d want to miss. Right he was!

As the train continued its journey through to Jasper it traversed the edges of the mountains with a sheer cliff on one side and a sheet drop on the other, it was almost like we were travelling through the air surrounded by giant snow covered mountains.

One gigantic mountain dominated the scene; Mount Robson, the tallest mountain in the Canadian Rockies. I’d wished the weather was clearer to be able to see it in its full glory but I’d settle for the dramatic shadows cast by the clouds and the haze of snowfall.

Jasper

Finally, we’d arrived in Jasper, a little town tucked away in the mountains, what I thought might be packed with tourists was once again, another ghost town. I said my farewell to the conductor as the train pulled away and I headed into town to see if I could find somewhere to stay while I explored Jasper.

I roamed the streets going from hostel to B&B and nowhere was both open and had room. So, out of options and out of energy, I headed back to where I’d seen a big hotel near the train station. I walked in and spoke to the young woman behind the desk about rooms and it wasn’t sounding good but somehow, I manage to sweet talk her into giving me a room for the night for a discounted rate - still way over my budget but once I got into the room and felt the comfort of a real bed - it was totally worth it.

I was going to put my dwindling budget to the back of my mind and enjoy the moment. Once I’d been embraced by the bed for a while I left my stuff and strapped on my boots again ready to explore the local area. I spoke to the receptionist again to see what was around that they would recommend and they had advised me that there was a museum in the hotel and I’m a sucker for a museum so I checked that out.

Not very big but interesting to see how much history was being missed and forgotten from this so-called museum. I then walked around outside for a while to get my bearings and explore the town. Jasper feels like it’s on a bit of a plateau surrounded by mountains. I swung by the tourist office to grab a local map to make a plan for the following day. It was getting late and cold so I went back to the hotel bar where I pulled out the local map I’d picked up at the tourist information point and started plotting my movements for the next day over a cold beer and burger before retiring to bed.

I slept like a baby in that bed and wanted to stay there several more hours but there were great outdoors to explore outside. So, I reluctantly dragged myself from the covers, got dressed and headed out. My first stop would be the train station, there was no way I could afford another night here so I would need to book onto a train out.

As I approached the station I spotted a large man in a duster coat and wide brimmed hat with a big grey beard carrying a large backpack. He looked a bit like Santa, if Santa was a cowboy bounty hunter. Something didn’t sit right about this guy, so I headed inside the station and could see him in the corner of my eye making a hasty approach towards me.

I pretended not to notice, paying attention to the schedule but he got my attention, he was very interested to know who I was, where I was going, who I was with. I kept my answers short and as uninformative as possible. He then got in close and told me about a big hole out in the wilderness he’d found and that it was so big it seemingly had no bottom to it. He’d offered to show me it with excitement in his eyes and as much as I might have wanted to see that hole, I didn’t want to see the bottom of it unless it was on my own terms.

I politely declined the offer to go and get inside this strange man’s hole - for obvious reasons, and said I was headed out on the next train so wouldn’t have time - this was a lie. I didn’t like lying but it seemed like the best option in the situation. Once he had left in disappointment I booked my ticket for the afternoon train to Banff.

I’d wanted longer in Jasper to explore than that so I was going to have to focus on just one point of interest on my map; Pyramid Lake, curious about its name as I’d long been captivated by the pyramids of the world. 

Pyramid Lake was named for the mountain that stands over it, Pyramid Mountain, which was named this by James Hector in 1859 because he thought it looked like a pyramid… I can’t see the resemblance personally, and I really wish I could as the walk here had been a bit treacherous, lonely, and with large animal tracks around I wasn’t sure just how lonely my walk had actually been. The view was beautiful though and for that, I didn’t regret it.

Banff

After several hours on a train from Jasper I’d arrived in the town of Banff in the late afternoon and made 1st priority to find somewhere to stay that I could afford. A good deal on a hostel would have been great after the indulgent stay in the hotel in Jasper. I went from place to place but again, nowhere was open and had room, and here in Banff that made a lot more sense than in Jasper because here, there were a lot more people around. If I couldn’t find a place I could afford to stay the night, I was going to have to leave on the last bus or train out of Banff which wouldn’t give me a lot of time to explore Banff.

Keeping my eye out for any accommodation options I might have missed earlier I explored the town of Banff. As I sat on a bench overlooking the town to take a break I observed Banff nestled into the valley of the mountains with a river winding through its centre, the people barely visible below from the viewpoint and considered what life must be like in the mountains here. Did the locals get sick of the tourists or did they embrace them as a necessary thing for the town's economy?

After the much needed rest, I made my way back down to the town where I found a quick thrill enjoyed by many tourists here; crossing the frozen river to the other side of town, treading carefully on the thick frozen water. Once I’d reached the other side and climbed the bank of the river, I decided to call it a day on Banff and accept defeat. I’d take an overnight bus to save money on accommodation while moving away from the expensive ski towns.

A few hours later I trekked myself and my heavy bag with all the energy I had left in me to the bus station thinking I could escape the snow storm that had just come out of nowhere. Only, the doors were locked and there was no way inside and thus, no way to know when this bus would come either. Temperatures were plummeting fast since the sun had sunken below the horizon hours ago. As snow continued to fall and temperatures reached -12 degrees I was beginning to think there weren't any buses coming and I was going to need to get smart and have a plan C fast.

Just then I heard a group of Australians huddled together in the cold. They informed me there should be a bus soon and they were due to get on it too. Time went by and by 1am the temperatures had reached -19 degrees, this was a new low for me - literally. That plan C might need to happen after all. I began to think of options but in this temperature it’s hard to think. Just as I was about to suggest alternative plans with the Australians the bus heaved its way through the snow up the hill and with a sigh of relief we all boarded the bus to Calgary.

Reflection and conclusion

I found another Tim Hortons where I sat and had breakfast and a much needed coffee. As I laid my map out on the table and sipped my coffee, reflecting on the journey so far and considering my route options from here I looked out of the window at the towering concrete towers around me. The cities weren't the place for the adventure I was looking for, I needed to be in the wild, and with my dwindling funds it was perhaps time to bring this chapter to a close.

I made quick work of getting back to Vancouver, travelling on the Greyhound buses from Calgary to Edmonton, Edmonton to Kamloops, and finally from Kamloops to Vancouver. It was a long journey and my butt may never feel the same again but it gave me a long time to reflect on the adventure I'd embarked on two weeks earlier. I reflected on the journey and found myself drawn to the Salish tribe I’d stayed with and the missing history I’d seen in the museums. Was Canada ashamed of or trying to brush the past under the rug hoping people would one day forget and move on? I considered how much history may have been lost to such thoughts.

I also considered how much of the vast Canadian wilderness was unexplored and what secrets it might be hiding. There was a pull in these thoughts, something hidden beneath years of upbringing telling me what I should do with my life, it was a sense of what I wanted to do, what I was put here to do but to discover that truth, I was going to have to keep exploring and pushing my limits.

• Image Credits & Sources

  All photos unless otherwise stated are © Areas Grey Ltd. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Written by:

Adam ‘Grey’ Cochrane