AnimalsMagazine

Look, these bears are neat. They’re different from how we think a bear should act.

But at the end the day, they’re still grizzlies, right? Still at the top of the food chain? Their lives aren’t that hard, right? 

I mean, these claws! These teeth! This massive hump of muscle, which seemingly gives grizzlies the power of superman to move a thousand-pound moose and rip open its rib cage like you or me might open a can of tomatoes. They’re all tools that scream raw power, especially when paired with a tricked-out kit of evolutionary superpowers: height, speed, smell.

But here’s the thing: what we see isn’t always what we get. Our eyes – our assumptions – can deceive us. We can trick ourselves into knowing something is simple, when the simple truth is, nothing’s ever simple.

How so?

Well, for starters, these claws aren’t really made for killing, but for roots. I mean, even when cooking vegan food, you need a decent knife, right Chef Marc Lepine? And you also need a decent set of chewers if the goal is to digest this dirt-based, um, deliciousness? So, yeah, a grizzly bears’ teeth also aren’t necessarily designed for killing.

And as Takota Coen will tell you, to mind a ‘farm’ as big and as unruly as the Robson Valley? Yeah, muscles are key.

Look: weight, muscle, height, speed and smell are all helpful when the craving is Chinook sashimi or moose carpaccio – and definitely helpful during a grizzly bear-equivalent of a pandemic-induced fight for the last roll of toilet paper at Costco.

But there’s more to the story; it’s hard to make a living on this land.

For an animal to be 80-90% vegetarian, or more, and still have the power to sit atop the food chain? Well, it means work. Hard, hard work – work they know how to do because it’s what their home has given them; it’s what their upbringing has taught them.

Every spring when these two wake? It’s go time. Who cares if it’s snowing? It’s time to move and find what didn’t make the winter – and get to it before the competition finds it. Maybe cache it for a rainy day, or eat it now, because all this moving? It costs the only currency that matters here: calories.

Each day? It’s one less to bank the calories needed to survive another year. Not enough calories? Forget being hungry next spring, there won’t be a next spring.

And while scavenging is fine, it’s hardly a career. Dandelions? That’s mint…while it lasts.

Grubbing to find insects and ground squirrels between seasons? It’s better than nothing – but not by much.

An elk calf or two are nice, but it’s more like a decent appy than a main course.

Sorry, elk.

Berries though? It’s not some-stop gap job. This gig’s a must – even if berries aren’t enough to retire on. It’s blue collar all day out here.

Even when this place is dripping berries, these are just two bears amongst many. Many black bears that is.

 You see, it’s not just other grizzlies gunning for the throne, it’s other animals that want – need – the same calories as our two bears depend on.

And when berry season is over? It’s all about whitebark pine seed. That’s right: A tiny, hard-to-find, hard-to-access seed found in a rather drab tree way, way up the mountainside.

Oh! And for this tree to feed a grizzly? The Clark’s nutcracker needs to be able to make its living on this land too. If they’re out of work – if they don’t eat enough – no one’s planting enough whitebark pines to feed a bear.

That’s not the only problem though. Grizzlies can’t actually get the seeds out of the pinecones on their own.

Remember a grizzly bears’ claws? Not only are they not made for killing; they’re also not made for climbing or cracking open rather delicate pinecones.

Claws!

So, not only do bears rely on the tree and the nutcracker for survival, they also depend on the red squirrel to climb, pick, crack and cache the seeds for the bears.

For the bears?

Well, whatever. Squirrels don’t need that many calories. Surely, they’re fine with sharing.

One more thing! These trees? They’re not doing well and without them, we don’t think grizzlies can survive the winter months.

Which might make you think Mount Robson isn’t much more than nature’s version of Squid Game – without the reward. After all, for all of this work – for all of the kilometres walked, all of the battles won, all of the calories banked – these two might only grow to about 120 kilograms.

What? You thought our two bears weighed 500 kilograms?! Even Chocolate, one of the biggest grizzlies ever found in Mount Robson capped out at about 250 kilograms.

You see, Mount Robson Provincial Park isn’t Alaska or the Great Bear Rainforest on Canada’s west coast – habitat stocked with seemingly limitless, calorie-rich fish. Heck, the Robson Valley isn’t even Yellowstone National Park, in the US Rockies, where massive bison roam and drop from hard fought – and lost – battles in the yearly rut.

And yet our two bears survive and thrive within their own context – the only context they know.

It’s why understanding context matters. It’s why understanding how context informs what an animal like a grizzly values in a place like Mount Robson matters. Why? Well, context can help all of us understand why certain decisions are made and why certain beliefs are held.

Context is also what can help us understand this: It’s hard to make a living on this landscape. Heck, it’s hard making a living on any landscape. And it’s why making a good living is, at the end of the day, the only thing that matters to most species. After all, that’s what makes Mount Robson work. And Canada.

Hold on! Are we still talking about a couple of bears or are we actually talking about something bigger?

Good question.

You see, just like in nature, there is a unique context to every region in Canada – a landscape that has helped determine how we make our living and, in turn, how we’ve shaped our values and beliefs.

Just as with our two bears, we’re accustomed to what we know and what we’ve always been able to do – and we can’t just change what we do and what we think with the snap of our fingers.

It’s why animals as powerful as grizzlies are more vulnerable than we think, and it’s also what makes democracy vulnerable too. It’s why a bear, with its food source or living compromised, might get scared for its survival and act defensively. It’s also why people who feel their livelihood is threatened will lash out to protect what they know – to protect themselves and their families.