Discovery Channel has terminated its relationship with Bear Grylls, the British television personality and star of the network’s Man vs. Wild. The severing of the relationship, which began back in 2006 when Man vs. Wild launched on Discovery, comes after the network has allegedly been unable to get Grylls to participate in two unannounced projects he was contracted for, say sources. The sixth season of Man vs. Wild wrapped in August.

“Due to a continuing contractual dispute with Bear Grylls, Discovery has terminated all current productions with him,” a network spokesperson tells The Hollywood Reporter.

A representative for Grylls confirmed that the Man Vs. Wild star has parted ways with Discovery.

"Bear's goal has always been to make life-empowering shows for his many fans around the globe, and he has taken great risks to bring Discovery such award-winning programming over seven seasons," said Heather Krug in a statement to THR. "Unfortunately, Bear and Discovery have not been able to come to mutual agreement on new programming, and he disagrees with Discovery's decision to terminate current productions. Bear has loved the Man vs. Wild journey and looks forward to producing further cutting-edge content again soon for his loyal audience."

This is not the first time Discovery has had a disagreement with its talent. In 2010, the network sued Deadliest Catch Captains Jonathan and Andy Hillstrand for allegedly failing to complete work on the spinoff Hillstranded. The $3 million lawsuit prompted the Hillstrands and Captain Sig Hansen to quit, though a month later the dispute was settled, the suit was dropped and all three returned to work on the show.

Grylls, 37, has parlayed his fame as an extreme outdoorsman into an international media career. He’s written nearly a dozen books, many of them survival guides. His memoir Mud, Sweat and Tears – due to be published in the U.S. in May – already is a best-seller in England and Australia. He’s landed numerous endorsement deals including with Dockers and Degree deodorant. There's a Man vs. Wild video game, he has an iPhone app, and his clothing line is sold at REI and Walmart.

My daughter has all of the makings of a great activist: Her heart is giant, her mind is quick, and she's as naïve as an elf. She believes that every human being is good and kind and will do the right thing. Occasionally she will see otherwise: a guy throwing litter out his window, a mom sneaking soda into a water cup, a dog on a short leash chained to a tree. Dismayed, betrayed, and outraged, she processes these injustices as rare aberrations to her ideal world.

She's wide open with no armor, I often say about her. Not even a thin coat of cynicism to blunt the realities to come.

She was only in kindergarten when she wrote a letter to the People's Republic of China urging them -- adamantly, like pretty please Sirs -- to renounce its one-child per family law. Her sister was adopted from China, and the thought that her sibling might not have been due to unfair legislation struck her as wrongheaded. Families should have the freedom to make this decision, she argued. Her passionate plea, written in 5-year-old script, was signed with a string of x's and o's.

Hungry children, neglected animals, polluted environments, look out. If you think one person isn't big enough to make a difference, just try throwing away a piece of plastic in our house. You'd better hope the Reduce-Reuse-Recycle czar isn't around to bust you.

So when my daughter reads in her "101 Ways to Save the World" book that proceeds from a certain charity will benefit battered women and abused children, she wants to know what it means. What's battered? And why are children abused?

I would give anything if she never had to know about men who hit, or creeps who lurked behind bushes, or adults who hurt the children who trusted them.

I stumble my way through an explanation, realizing quickly that there is no way to sugarcoat abuse. At this exact moment, I know that my daughter is growing her first layer of skin.
When I was a little older than she -- junior high -- I had a friend named Amanda. She was beautiful: thick amber hair, olive skin, and the greenest of eyes. When she chose me to be her friend, I felt as if I had won a prize. I was scrawny and awkward and far from a beauty, but next to Amanda, I couldn't help feeling as if her glow transferred onto me. I liked her parents, too. Her dad was funny, her mom was bubbly. When I played at their house, there was always plenty of snacks, laughs, and smiles.

One day I went to school and Amanda wasn't there. A week, maybe two, passed, and still no Amanda. When finally she returned, I remember the relief that flooded through me. I ran to her in the courtyard, reached for her hands. "You're here. Finally." We hugged and then pulled back and looked at each other.

"I'm back, but not for long," Amanda said. "My mom and sister and I have to move -- to California. My grandparents are there."

"But why?" I whined selfishly because her moving was going to hurt me.

Amanda looked around, then down at her white Keds. Amanda always wore the whitest of Keds. "Because of my dad," she said, looking up briefly.