Walking in the footsteps of a legend part II: another rookie bear down

[45freezer]

Some pre-reading for context if you have time, otherwise just scroll down to the photos like all the other working stiffs.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/forum/showth...o-bear-hunting

http://www.huntingbc.ca/forum/showth...t-a-First-BEAR!!!


Well guys, managed to get out there this weekend and finally make it happen. This dad & son team was taken out by "Dad" of the original "dad and son," the same man that took out Dave "BiG Boar" Marsh (RIP) for his first bear exactly 8 years before. Having read Dave's thread "rookie bear down," (link above) it felt like I was literally following his footsteps. I met him in the same office where he had met Dave all those years ago. I had similar thoughts to those Dave once did as I took in the business attire, the kind smile and soft spoken voice but was reassured by Dave's words and even then was completely unaware of how proficient this man would be in the woods. He told me his go to honey hole for bears was on the island but with it being a long weekend we're likely to spend more time waiting for ferries than hunting. He said he also knows of a spot on the mainland that should hold a decent population of bears but that he's never hunted there successfully and it is more of a gamble. We opted to roll the dice closer to home, made plans to leave Friday evening and confirmed that my 8 year old son would be able to join us for the hunt.




Friday morning came and the work day seemed to drag endlessly, I found myself constantly looking at the clock and anxiously daydreaming about the weekend ahead of us. Finally the time came to head home and finish packing up. We drove over to Dad's and helped him load up the truck, the whole time wondering if maybe we might be loading a bear into it on the way back. We drove to his boat and got it loaded up fairly quickly as we were running out of daylight fast. We made it to Dad's cabin just as it was getting dark and brought in our gear. He told us that we didn't have to wake up early as the bears like to sleep in but I still woke up at 630 and promptly made myself useful chopping firewood. An hour or so of that worked up quite a sweat in my hunting clothes and I began to worry that any bears would wind me from 3 cutblocks over. It also worked up an appetite, time for breakfast. One thing I can say for sure about Dad is that man knows how to fuel up for the day. I made some french toast for Blake and I and made a few extra slices for Dad, he wolfed those down and then started making some egg mcfuffin style breakfast sandwiches. He packed those away and then heated up a big can of stew and didn't leave a trace behind of anything. I was impressed. At about 1030 we loaded up the boat and motored our way over to our hunting area. Unload the quad, spend a few minutes troubleshooting my bow into his rifle clamps and we're on our way.









Immediately I'm seeing scat on the logging roads, a few piles here and there at first but in some places there are mounds every 30 yards. Made it up above the snow line and the green grass and scat petered out fairly quick so we made our way down to a lower elevation. Up and down the spur roads we go, scat and green everywhere but no bears in sight. Going down one particularly steep, rocky road I heard a bit of a pop followed by a cyclical hissing noise..."hey Dad, we've got a leak in one of the tires." Break out the seal kit and tire pump. While we work on fixing that I send my son back down the road to break apart a couple scat piles we had just passed and let me know what they're composed of. Man that rock got us good, Dad sealed the tire and we're still losing air quick. He doesn't think it will work and talk is shifting to what we're going to do for the rest of the day...back to the cabin, try and find a tire repair shop, hunting doesn't seem to be on that list, I can feel my heart dropping by the minute. Dad isn't a guy that gives up though and he tries again to seal the leak. One more try at inflating it as Blake comes strolling back up the road. He says the bears have been eating "yellow stuff" and I assume he means skunk cabbage as we've been seeing quite a bit of that in the cutblocks. The tire is inflated, Dad is looking at it questioningly and saying he doesn't know if it will hold but back on the quad and down the road we go.

[45freezer]

Spur road after spur road, each cutblock we slowed down and picked apart the hillsides searching for a glimpse of black fur but all we spotted was bear shaped stumps. After a few hours of this I felt a few drops hit my face and instantly regretted not putting my rain jacket on that morning. Dad had mentioned that there's no point hunting bear in the rain and we should keep our fingers crossed for clear skies. My heart sank once again as I pictured us heading back to the cabin well before last light empty handed and soaked. Dad pulled the quad over and made his way over to a small dry patch under some trees. He made a little burrow in the side of the hill and promply dozed off. My primary concern was keeping Blake's spirits up...if there's one thing I've learned about hunting with young kids it's to not let them get cold, wet, hungry or bored. Made our own burrow in the hill, broke out the siracha peanuts and he immediately took a liking to them, cleaning off almost a full bag. Shortly after we dozed off ourselves, waking up occasionally to listen for how heavy the rainfall was.

After a little over 2 hours the rain seemed to have let up a bit. Dad said it could be on and off for the rest of the day and asked if I wanted to keep hunting. I told him I had heard plenty of times that after a good rain is sometimes the best time for bear hunting and that I was ready to get back on the road. Wipe the seats on the quad down and we're off. 5 minutes later we both spot a bear at the same time. He's on the logging road 100 yards away walking towards us. Dad hit the brakes and pulled over within a fraction of a second. I jumped off the quad as he unclipped one side of my bow, I unclipped the other side and nocked an arrow...it's go time. I look back at the bear and see that he's still swaggering down the road towards us, now at about 75 yards. I can also see from that distance that he has a beautiful white heart shaped patch on his chest and my eyes lock onto it. I'm hunting for meat but this will be my first bear, first big game animal, first archery kill besides grouse...I plan to get a rug made if I'm successful. Wasn't going to pass up anything I could get an arrow into but really wanted to get a boar. Also wanted something with character for the rug, a bear with scars, cinnamon fur...or a chest patch like the one I'm staring at within what feels like spitting distance, which he is rapidly closing. There's a slight rise in the road so I crouch down until I can just see its ears poking up above the slope and start walking forward until I feel it's about to pop over the rise. Just before it did I dropped down into a drainage ditch on the right side of the road. At this point it still hadn't seen me but after taking a few more steps it paused and looked at the quad. I looked over to see if Blake had moved but he was dead still, wide eyed, watching from about 40 yards away. I looked at Dad, part of me looking for a sign of what I should do next but his face said everything as he watched on...this is your game now, make your move. I slowly ranged the bear at 33 yards, it still hadn't seen me and was on a path to walk directly past me and then the quad. This is unreal. At about 25 yards it stops and looks at the quad again, trying to make out what it is. I draw back and go to anchor my release behind my ear but in the excitement I forgot to take my helmet off. Had been practicing releasing it quickly throughout the morning for this exact reason but the heat of the moment got the better of me. Am I going to have to draw down and take it off? It's not going to just stand there and let me do that. I worked the straps out of the way with my knuckle, dug it into my anchor point and looked through my peep. It's starting to turn to walk into the woods, still looking at the quad, and pauses for a second. Now is my chance. It's walked about 10 yards since I ranged it so I float my 20 yard pin on it's heart, feel the trigger of my release on my index finger, start to squeeze my back muscles together and just as my shot goes off I watch it take a step forward. I see the arrow sail into the exact spot where it's heart was just a moment before but that one step caused my shot to hit a bit farther back than I meant to. As I watched it run into the bushes my heart sank. I would have rather seen nothing the whole trip than wound something or not be able to track and recover it.

I walk back over to Dad and he asks if I hit it. I told him with a cringe that I definitely did but far back, possibly in the liver. He replied that at this point some people wait an hour or two for the critter to die but we're going in after it as he pulled his 300 win mag from the quad holster. I immediately went to the spot I felt I hit it and looked for blood on the ground. Not one drop to be seen. Did I actually hit it? Looking back and forth I spot my arrow about 5 yards down the road. I run to it and pick it up, in retrospect I should have slowed down to preserve the scene but I wanted to move as quickly as possible and get another arrow in this bear if I could. The arrow is covered in bright red blood nock to tip, 2" mechanical broadhead fully expanded, no blades broken or damage to the arrow...looks like a clean pass through right between the ribs on both sides. Also doesn't look like dark liver blood. I look in the bushes beside where my arrow was laying. Man that's thick stuff, even if it went 50 yards in that we may never find it. My heart really started to sink now. This was turning from a dream come true into a nightmare fast. Dad stood where he felt like I hit the bear and told me to go back to exactly where I shot from, I ran back to my footprints in the drainage ditch and ranged him at 26 but he was a bit closer to the bush than the bear was when I shot. I run back over and see a more open spot in the brush near where Dad is standing. I decide this will be my entry point and prepare to charge in after a wounded bear with a stick and string in my hands, here goes nothing.

Everything has been moving in slow motion and this is all less than 1 minute after I released my arrow. I start descending the hill and I hadn't taken 4 steps when I see a big, black shape at the bottom of the hill, 10 yards in front of me. It's darker underneath the tree canopy and I wait, partially for my eyes to adjust but also partially because I can't believe what I'm looking at. It's right there, piled up at the bottom of the hill taking its last breaths. I call to Dad that I found it and as he walks over I tell him that it's still breathing so I'm going to shoot it one more time. He reminds me that if I'm getting a rug done that isn't the best idea and that it will expire within a few seconds. I asked him to go grab Blake so that he could see this and while he was doing that I shared this bears last moment and heard its final breath leave its lungs, quite a powerful moment and was interesting to be alone in silence for that part, watching from only a few yards away. Even though I heard it take his last breath I still had to give it a customary poke with a stick...dead as a doornail within 90 seconds of smacking him with a 385 grain arrow shooting a Hoyt powermax at approximately 67lbs. Dad walks over with Blake and seems to witness the opposite of ground shrinkage. "That's actually not a bad sized bear at all," he announces...my spirits are rising at a rapid rate. None of this even seems real...apparently Dad had spotted the bear just before I found my arrow but wanted me to find it on my own, another great decision on his behalf. I pull its lips back and take a peek at his chompers. Worn down and yellow, this is no 2 year old bear. I ask Dad how old he thinks it is and he says at least 4...not the old warrior I eventually hope to be able to target but a respectable first archery bear in my opinion. A quick check between the legs confirms it's a boar. Within minutes I've gone from feeling like things couldn't get any worse to feeling the exact opposite and I'm completely high on life. A bit strange experiencing this for the first time at nearly 30 years old when most people seem to be introduced at a much younger age but I feel like it made everything that much more intense.

[45freezer]

A few quick family photos and the real work can begin. I've heard 1000 times that the work starts once you get something on the ground but you can't really appreciate it fully until you've experienced it. The gutting process that takes a seasoned veteran 10-15 minutes took me close to an hour and at times I wished Dad would lend a helping hand or even just take over but when it was done I realized what a solid life lesson he had given me and at the same time had instilled the confidence necessary to do it all by myself one day if need be. He only made it a few yards downhill but it was the steepest, most obstacle laden hill he could have gone down. I've spent a few hours in the gym in my day but getting him up that slope was a hell of a workout. I don't think I saw Dad out of breath once all weekend, that man has a traditional woodsmans strength and stamina and if I can still be half as fit as him in 25 years I'll be happy as a skeeter in the tent.








Once he was up on the road it was about 6:45pm. Dad said he still had about an hour of hunting time before we had to load up my bear and head back to the boat so he would go try and connect with another bear while I worked on skinning mine out. We let Blake decide if he wanted to stay and help me or go hunt with Dad, he opted to keep hunting. Fine with me, super proud of him so far...he even got his hands messy taking the heart out of the gutpile for a trophy meal. They rode back down the road towards the cutblocks we had just come from as I got to work on the the somewhat tedious task of skinning my first bear for a rug. Aside from the hind legs being a touch uneven and a massive hole from that 2" broadhead I think it turned out alright.

About 20 minutes after they left I heard the quad coming back up the road. As they pulled up I jokingly asked if they already got one. Blake replied with his face lit up with excitement "ya dad we got something!" I couldn't believe it, 2 bears down within 2 hours and it was our first day hunting this area. Dad grabbed a bone saw that he had left behind in case I needed it and said they were going to process it and would be back soon. I got back to work skinning my bear, interesting how these things we evolved doing for hundreds of thousands of years feel so natural and seem to almost put you in a trance or meditative state. Before I knew it we were losing daylight and the boys were back to get me and my bear. He certainly wasn't light but we got my bear up on the quad in one piece. Back on the quad and about 1km down the road, we stopped to pick up Dad's bear. Not sure how I didn't hear his 300 go off at that distance. His was already skinned out and it's big pumpkin head was lying in the road as a marker.







I compared our bears paws and they seemed to be very similar in size but the size difference in the bears was significant. We had to saw his in half to get it up on the quad even without the head and hide, dad left the melon behind saying he's shot much bigger...I would love to see those photos some time, the butcher told me it's the biggest he's seen all season and I'm no expert but that was a damn big bear. Was quite an unreal feeling riding out of there with 2 bears on the back when just a few hours before we thought our day if not weekend might be over...the patch on the tire had held up all day without even having to re-pump it!







Back to the cabin around 10pm and too tired to cook anything (Dad had the right idea at breakfast time) we destroyed some peanut butter sandwiches and hit the sack...after a luxury hot shower courtesy of Dad's top notch hunting lodge. Blake was still really excited and kept talking about the day for about a half hour before he fell asleep. I was exhausted but my mind was still moving 100mph and wouldn't let me sleep. Finally I drifted off but woke up bright and early just a few hours later, anxious to get our bears to the butcher, mine being only halfway skinned still needed a bit of work before we could do that. On the way back we picked up some celebratory milkshakes that certainly hit the spot after what felt like much more than just a day and a half. Back to Dad's to finish skinning my bear and clean off our meat before bringing it to the butcher.





Mine is being turned into jalapeno cheddar smokies, breakfast sausage, chops and burger and should be ready next weekend. Last night I cooked up some sweet chili coconut fried bear heart and Blake loved it, I think it needs a few more runs before I perfect the recipe but it wasn't bad at all. Hide is in the freezer right now, have spoken with black powder tannery and will most likely be dropping it off with them next week...won't be cheap but at least I'll have a permanent memory of this experience aside from photos once the meat is gone, fingers crossed they can work around my rookie skinning job and the hide doesn't slip!! Huge thank you to Dad for taking us out, letting us stay in his bear lodge and for putting me on to my first stalk. Another thank you is also in order for Weatherby Fan for giving me permission to recycle his thread title, it seemed incredibly fitting since when I found out the backstory on Dave and Dad that's exactly what came to mind. Definitely a longer write up than most spring bear stories but I wanted to do my best to describe the feelings I experienced harvesting my first big game animal after wondering about it for 20+ years and growing up with hunting in my peripherals but never experiencing it for myself. Hope you guys enjoyed the write up and photos, good luck with your LEH applications!

[HarryToolips]

Nice pics so far, looking forward to the rest..

[HarryToolips]

Nevermind just reloaded, nice bear, good story, and with a bow to boot, congrats!

[Jelvis]

Awesome just like the historic hunts, and you had total success and the photos are amazing.
Jel -- Black bear with a bow and arrow whoa! - Nice lil story 2

[nature girl]

45 freezer I really enjoyed your story and pictures. And such a great memory for you to cherish with your son and dad. Congradulations on your archery bear.
Its a great thing your guad tire worked out for you all.

[BCHunterFSJ]

What a well written story! Thanks...

[sawmill]

Nice bear, looks like you ain`t getting the head mounted though.

[Rob Chipman]

Nice work!