Brilliantly UNTETHERED

Is the wilderness the center of true civilization? A journey to the remote reaches of Vancouver Island sharpens the senses for exploring beauty.

- WRITTEN BY ELLEN MCGAULEY

I feared running into a bear

I pictured an elk wandering into my tent at midnight and ghosts of century-old miners lit by a crackling fire. My imagination is a wild, wild place, and so journeying into Vancouver Island's dense forest, to a lodge only accessible by seaplane or boat, I worried I'd spend four days like Jerry O'Connell's Vern in Stand By Me, wide-eyed in the wilderness. I also feared falling off the side of a mountain.

What did not scare me was scarcity of Wi-Fi. But it should have. Not because I found it difficult to be away from DMs and revolving-door social reels (it wasn't), but because slipping into a world governed by red cedars and slow rivers and, yes, bears, sharpens everything. It's like cleaning a haze off of a camera lens. The same senses that imagined drama in this forest were retuned by it.

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: Enveloped in glass, the lodge's Cookhouse and Ivanhoe Lounge serve as scenic gathering spots. Cedar outdoor showers open to tall tree canopies. Log and canvas guest tents afford big views of the river, mountain peaks, and passing wildlife. Soft textural linens and upholstery furnish private quarters, which are warmed with gas stoves.

By the time I left the island, the only fear I had was losing the reset.

Clayoquot Wilderness Lodge, a luxury outpost in the Bedwell River Valley, opened more than 20 years ago in the spirit of the gold and copper prospectors who once settled there. It was overhauled and reopened in 2021 by Australia's Baillie Lodges, and their timing was good. Nature-immersive resorts like this one offer an increasingly attractive proposition: disconnecting as a way of reconnecting. (Wi-Fi isn't off-limits at Clayoquot, but it's only accessible in each guest's private quarters.)