Amber's connection to the North runs deep. Although she didn't fully explore her Inuit heritage until adulthood, the seeds of resilience were planted early. Her grandmother's escape from a residential school builds the foundation of Amber's strength.

This fortitude, passed through generations, fuels her mission to protect and revitalize Inuit culture, most tangibly through her work with sled dogs.

In a world increasingly aware of the delicate balance between human activity and nature, Rylan Tsuji is a passionate steward of the water. Through his work with conservation organizations and the wisdom passed down through his lineage, he demonstrates that stewardship is more than a duty—it's a legacy. One that he is eager to pass on to his two-year-old son, Luwi, and future generations.

“I PASSED!!!” Mary Miller shared these triumphant words in an Instagram post last year, declaring her newfound status as a level one sommelier with a level two award—the latest in her long list of achievements, adventures, and reinventions. At age 66, her story is one of an unyielding spirit hungering for life’s richness and a willingness to take risks in the pursuit of joy.

It was a workday like any other for Hailey McIntyre and Ocean Rutherford of SAAM Towage when they set off up the coast on their tugboat. However, the 3-day trip from Prince Rupert, BC, to Stewart, BC, to assist in docking and undocking a ship became the first all-female tugboat crew in the over 70-year history of their company.

"I'm surprised none of us died," says Ryan Cameron. He, his brother Caleb, and three other siblings were brought up aboard their family's salmon troller. At six years old, while his peers entered the school system, Ryan was entrusted with a razor-sharp fillet knife on the slippery decks and rough waters of the Pacific Northwest. Now, as he and Caleb own Cameron Ocean Adventures in Ucluelet, British Columbia, and are raising their own families, they recall the ups and downs of their unconventional childhood.

Moniera Khan was 54 years old when she finished dead last in her first mountain bike race. But race results have little to do with her love for riding.

Instead, it’s a celebration of what bikes have brought into her life, what her body can do, and her ability to define success on her terms.

Celina isn't your average athlete; she's a natural, dedicated, and accomplished force of nature. In Squamish, British Columbia, where she's a mountain biker and trail runner, her uniqueness shines through; she's stood on the podium, but winning titles didn't bring her joy. Instead, she thrives on the spiritual and intentional link she shares with nature. 

On the trails of North Vancouver, Kelli Sherbinin emerges as a beacon of light in the mountain biking community. Known for her adaptable teaching style, she is an educator, speaker, and community advocate, promoting riding to connect with nature and challenge individual boundaries. She inspires riders to push their limits and emphasizes the sports' transformative impact on personal growth.

Sitting in her kitchen, one of the few rooms of her home that shows no evidence of DIY renovations, Carys Evans sips from a mug made in her basement studio—one of only a few without a feminist theme, and reminisces about her days as the first sponsored female freeride mountain biker. Her story bends and weaves along a timeline of bikes, travel, working in the trades, finding her way home in clay and the reclamation of vulgar words.

Full of tumultuous energy and a deep-seated desire to prove herself, Claire Buchar poured everything into mountain biking. She’d always dreamed of being an athlete, but at 20, when she took up riding, no courses or workshops were available to learn skills. She simply kept up with the guys and did what they did. Never doubting herself, if they hucked something, she was right there with them.

At one time, Norma was heavily engaged in her local mountain bike community as a well-loved and devoted member. Most recently, however, she has emerged as a sought-after skate documentarian committed to highlighting nontraditional people in the space. As a Mexican woman, she’s spent her career drawing on experiences and lessons learned between both sports to increase accessibility for others.

Mainstream media is awash with stories, slideshows and film clips celebrating “mountain mommas who rip” within days and weeks of giving birth. But many new mothers have discovered those success stories are not always the norm. Set up by the expectation of quick recoveries and hampered by a lack of information available, women looking forward to returning to the sports they love are instead often finding further injury and frustration.

Trans-Cascadia has become one of the Pacific Northwest’s most notorious events: a four-day, blind-format, backcountry enduro race on some of the region’s most challenging terrain. However, their mission extends beyond the event. The nonprofit has created a successful model for setting up a race and supporting sustainable trails, giving back to the local communities on which the event depends.

The time between peak seasons in a resort town brings to mind unfavorable weather and closed businesses. In Whistler, BC, however, the shoulder season is prime time for mountain biking. Warm autumns interspersed with more moisture create ideal trail conditions. Getting laps in before Canadian Thanksgiving, when the bike park closes, can be the perfect end to a phenomenal riding season, but many overlook a whole other network of trails.

In 1911, 18-year-old Maggie Symonds found herself deposited from a ship on the flat rocks five miles southeast of Pachena Point on Vancouver Island along what is now the world-renowned West Coast Trail. Years later, when she recounted her first impression of the uninviting and harsh coastal landscape that would be her home for the next three decades, she remembered thinking, ‘My God, what have I come to?’

When Chelsie McCutcheon’s teenage parents brought her home from the hospital in an apple box, they could have easily continued the party lifestyle so readily available to them. Instead, they pursued sobriety. They also made a conscious effort to raise an active daughter who was healthy and connected to the outdoors. Now McCutcheon, who is a member of the Wet’suwet’en Nation, is using outdoor recreation as a holistic tool for positive social change in First Nation communities.

When I close my eyes, I can see her house. I can trace the swirling patterns of her Battleship linoleum and take in all the turquoise: cupboards, counter, and rotary phone. Her arborite table runs the length of the room and the fridge—an afterthought—sits next to the couch. Looking straight across from the entrance, I can see her photo albums: full of stories, full of life. Pristine in their presentation and complete in their knowledge.

The inaugural BC Bike Ride North – a six-day, all-inclusive guided mountain bike tour through northern British Columbia – has come to an end. We’ve spent the last week riding pockets of hand-built singletrack across a vast distance of over 700 kilometres. Each town we’ve pulled into has been unassuming – mostly residential, with single-storey industrial buildings that sprawl along rivers or are centred around sawmills. But as we left each one, the uniqueness of the experience – the riding, the people, the vistas, and even the food – left imprints on us to last a lifetime.