My spring bear season was off to a late start due to a holiday to Australia. Also this is my first season as a Dad, so I wasnt sure how much I'd be able to get away to hunt. Instead of spending sun up to sun down away from home, driving to "more productive" hunting grounds, I opted to hunt local. Sneaking away after work and basically any time I had 2 or more hours to fill.
My local hunting started by glassing and glassing and glassing. With no sightings and motivation dwindling, I changed things up and went to a spot I KNOW to hold bears. It's a bit harder to get to, but that's not what kept me out of the area until now. That spot is just thick nasty shoulder scrub. Visibility is limited to 40 - 50 yards at best and much less in areas.
The area is littered with bears. I've attached a photo of some scat I came across on my first hike in there. The owner of that poop is a big bear and immediately captured my attention for the rest of the season.
So every spare moment I'd grab my pre-packed bag and rifle and fly out the door. Every time I went in the bears had left me some new gifts and pieces of information to follow.
This brings me to yesterday. I finish work and race home to get my kit and go look for the bear that is keeping me awake at night.
3 hours of tracking him along what I assumed to be his regular little trail between feeding areas. Huge scat the whole way. No luck! Wind was good and I was as quiet as could be, but no bear in sight or ear shot. Deflated and tired I internally crack the poops and head for the truck. Having a serious 'why the hell am I out here?' moment. I make it to the truck and almost convince myself to go stalk the same loop again, but that didn't materialize.
I drive for a few minutes and feel the guilt of quitting on a hunt while its still light out. So I pull over at the next intersection. Its 8:10pm. I make a deal with myself to hike the old road until 8:30 then head back out and home.
Well I dont make it that far, 8:15pm and I can hear all hell on earth from below me in the thick stuff. Barely through the brush I catch a glimmer of black. Then some more, then finally a brief look at the whole bear. Jet black with a sandy muzzle. There is no way I can get an ethical shot at him through all this bush. He is motoring pretty steadily from left to right as I see him. I see a distance ahead of him a small shooting lane that would work, but only if he walked in that exact spot.
I set up and waited for him to maybe come past. It felt like forever, the finally his nose, then head, then shoulder and BANG! just behind the shoulder. He flipped on to his back and tried to claw away the pain before running in the opposite direction from me into some nearby cover.
I could hear him banging around for a few moments before he fell silent. To give him a chance to expire I hiked back to my truck and got it as close to the bear as I could. Now for the scary part, going into the thick stuff looking for the bear. He was exactly where I expected. I had a serious uphill effort ahead of me. To avoid making a mess of the meat I decide to try to get him to the truck intact.
I only had 100m to cover but it was all uphill and mostly covered in dead fall. I drag and struggle for nearly 30 minutes before I'm able to book the bear to a recovery strap I carry in the truck. I'd like to say the truck made quick work of getting this bear up the steepest part of the hill, but it's just not true. I had to lock in 4wd and really put some steam into it to budge this guy up the slope.
Finally on level ground I remove the innards and head for home to finish the process in a cleaner environment. I wasnt in bed til 130 this morning, but it's all worth it. That bear has a beauty hide and weighed in at 170lb without hide head or guts. The Pryns will be eating well for quiet some time.
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