Bears have a way of turning any paddling trip into a story you won’t forget—whether it’s a curious black bear on a remote beach or a polar bear eyeing your kayak a little too closely.

In this week’s collection, we dive into the reality of traveling through bear country, from close calls to the practical skills and gear that keep all parties safe.

Watch a heart-pounding grizzly encounter, learn how to properly hang a bear bag, and pick up essential tips to avoid interactions before they start. Because when you’re paddling in bear territory, knowledge is key.

– Paddling Magazine Editors

Expedition canoeist Frank Wolf wards off three hungry polar bears—one of which seems hellbent on eating his canoe.

Learn how to keep your food away from hungry critters with these tips from Happy Camper, Kevin Callan.

A grizzly bear charged an unsuspecting kayaker on the Elaho River in Squamish. A nearby rafting group managed to capture the terrifying moment on camera.

By: James Raffan

My two main passions are paddling and the North. Over the last four years, the North has been my main focus while working on a book about polar bears. Paddling has taken a back seat—if you don’t count daily toots around the lake with the dogs at home—but there’s one story connecting bears and boats still keeping me up at night.

We traveled with a group of Inuit from Arviat and Repulse Bay, led by the late Louis Pilakapsi, who was there to site a naturalist’s lodge he and others were looking to start in conjunction with the creation of the national park. Louis and company traveled in open motorized canoes, camped in wall tents and were actively hunting as we made our way around the coast. As long as we camped near them, the bear threat was low.

When we split the group and went our separate ways for days at a time, things got interesting. Heading out onto the treeless Arctic tundra to answer nature’s call required two people—one with TP, one with a gun. As long as we stayed together on and off the water, we were reasonably safe. It was when the togetherness of a small herd of kayaks and kayakers fell apart, things turned scary.

I happened to be in a solo Feathercraft kayak the day the others pulled out their parasails to take advantage of a brisk following wind. They had sail assist, I did not. Within minutes, I was alone. All was going swimmingly—I was contemplating life in general, daydreaming and admiring the colors of the other two boats under sail against the blue of the Arctic sky as they got smaller and smaller. Life, I eventually concluded, was perfect…

A grizzly bear charged As if trudging through the snowy wilderness with her kayak wasn’t enough of an adventure, Nouria Newman managed to run into some big, furry friends along the way.