7mmWSM
05-29-2007, 08:27 AM
Unfortunately this story has a similar ending to Bartell’s grizz story, so before everyone who jumped on his back jumps on mine, let me say that as first time grizz hunters (but not first time hunters) we did our due diligence and what mistakes were made were learned from. This was without a doubt the most exciting and heartbreaking trip I have ever been on, and I thank my lucky stars that I was able to be a part of it.
Day 1
Went to range to sight in rifles with the same bullets we were using on the grizz.
Day 2
Pack up the big ford econoline, towing trailer with quad and dirtbike, canoe on top. Head for Williams Lake and stopped by Steven Rupp’s place as he had given us some advice on our area. I can not understate how much his advice helped, he spent a lot of time with us telling us what to too look for, and how to go about sorting out a grizzly. At the end of the day the bears were exactly where he said they would be. His track record and trophy room speaks for itself. Thanks Steve! Overnight in Willy’s Puddle.
Day 3
Drove in the next morning to our area. We new there was snow on the road, but weren’t sure where and how much. Turns out the pass we had to go over to get too the good stuff was still under 3.5 feet of snow, which we determined after a wet hike up the road from where we left the van. Saw 1 set of tracks crossing the snow. It was decided then that we would try and make it into the area via a longer way round (5 hour detour) because we had heard they were going to be logging along the road and it may have been plowed. On the way back down from the pass one of the guys in our party who had never hunted bear before took a medium blackie that decided to walk right towards us on the road.
Day 4
Drove around to our area, found the road clear and set up camp at the head of a lake. What a relief! Went out to spot that evening and saw a couple of a moose, but nothing else.
Day 5
Hiked in 2.5 hours into a remote valley that had no road/trail access in it but the promise of numerous slides. What an amazing place. There are not many untouched valleys of this nature that you can still be completely alone in this area, and we considered ourselves lucky just to be there. After fording the river (ouch, cold), and picking a trail through nasty blowdowns and devils club, we spotted the first slide, with a GRIZZ feeding on it! That got the blood flowing. By the time we got closer he had bedded down in the thick stuff. Waited 3 hours, saw two blackies come in, and then checked out another slide. On the way out there he was again! Put a stalk on him, and got to within 250 yards, but decided not to take the shot. Waited on him till he bedded again, then hiked out in almost dark up the worst and steepest and nastiest blowdown slope imaginable. Awful way to end a day.
Day 6
Decided to let our bear calm down, and took it easy that day. Glassed some blocks, and spotted a black wolf going after a bull moose. Sweet! That afternoon my Dad is cruising into a glassing spot on the bike when he turns the corner and sees said wolf 10 yards away! Brakes go on and the rifle comes out but by that time the wolf was long gone. My buddy and I at our glassing spot in the evening, almost got run over by a runt of a blackie, who never even saw we were there!
Day 7
Went back in early to the valley with much anticipation. Blowdowns didn’t seem to matter as much! There he was. We set up from across the valley (about 350 yards away), where two of our guys without tags (my Dad and I both had tags) were going to back us up and keep an eye on the slide. Dad and I went in slowly, and times on hands and knees. Crossed the river, and got ourselves within what we thought was easy 200 yards. (Didn’t have the range finder on us, this was clearly a mistake) Both of us had solid rests, and waited till he came out broadside. I counted to three, focused on a brown patch on his shoulder, touched off my round, and hit him somewhere cause he spun and bit at the wound. Dad followed up and hit him in the chest/gut, and sent him for a tumble. He then bolted for the alders. Buddy up on the hill sent in a round, and says he saw it hit the rear leg. I saw fur and let fly again but no guarantees on that one. We thought he was down for the count and started our celebrations. Then we get the news from the buddy spotting that our bear had got up, and dragging his back leg headed for the timber. What a disappointment. Every BC hunters worst nightmare come true. Waited three hours and then picked up a very faint blood trail, which was a bit surprising. Went back out to get through the thick stuff before dark with very heavy hearts and not a lot of hope.
Day 8
Went back in and picked up the trail. This guy went for 1.5 kilometers, covering 600 vertical feet, going straight up through the nastiest blowdowns you have ever seen. Unbelievable. I have a new respect for these animals. Found his last blood at a bedding spot straight above the trail (he could easily see his back trail), and where he had access to water from a nearby spring. He had rubbed his wounds on a log and stopped the bleeding. Spent the rest of the day looking for him and couldn’t find hide nor hair. Dad and I decided that if the opportunity arose we would only take one more bear, and consider this one a cut tag.
Day 9
Could have gone to look for another one, but the wind was out of our sails, so we did some fising, packed up camp, did some gold panning in a nearby creek, and then headed home.
For the record my Dad and I have never lost an animal, and we both felt we did our best given the circumstances. We looked for another drop of blood for over 3 hours. We went home with clean consciences, but very heavy hearts.
Day 10
Steve emails me to tell me he came up to visit camp (which we had had to move because of the snow) and saw a 7.5 foot silvertip within 30 minutes hike of the road!!! Ouch. Needless to say he raced around trying to find us, which he couldn’t.
Sorry for the long read, hope to get some pics posted soon.
Day 1
Went to range to sight in rifles with the same bullets we were using on the grizz.
Day 2
Pack up the big ford econoline, towing trailer with quad and dirtbike, canoe on top. Head for Williams Lake and stopped by Steven Rupp’s place as he had given us some advice on our area. I can not understate how much his advice helped, he spent a lot of time with us telling us what to too look for, and how to go about sorting out a grizzly. At the end of the day the bears were exactly where he said they would be. His track record and trophy room speaks for itself. Thanks Steve! Overnight in Willy’s Puddle.
Day 3
Drove in the next morning to our area. We new there was snow on the road, but weren’t sure where and how much. Turns out the pass we had to go over to get too the good stuff was still under 3.5 feet of snow, which we determined after a wet hike up the road from where we left the van. Saw 1 set of tracks crossing the snow. It was decided then that we would try and make it into the area via a longer way round (5 hour detour) because we had heard they were going to be logging along the road and it may have been plowed. On the way back down from the pass one of the guys in our party who had never hunted bear before took a medium blackie that decided to walk right towards us on the road.
Day 4
Drove around to our area, found the road clear and set up camp at the head of a lake. What a relief! Went out to spot that evening and saw a couple of a moose, but nothing else.
Day 5
Hiked in 2.5 hours into a remote valley that had no road/trail access in it but the promise of numerous slides. What an amazing place. There are not many untouched valleys of this nature that you can still be completely alone in this area, and we considered ourselves lucky just to be there. After fording the river (ouch, cold), and picking a trail through nasty blowdowns and devils club, we spotted the first slide, with a GRIZZ feeding on it! That got the blood flowing. By the time we got closer he had bedded down in the thick stuff. Waited 3 hours, saw two blackies come in, and then checked out another slide. On the way out there he was again! Put a stalk on him, and got to within 250 yards, but decided not to take the shot. Waited on him till he bedded again, then hiked out in almost dark up the worst and steepest and nastiest blowdown slope imaginable. Awful way to end a day.
Day 6
Decided to let our bear calm down, and took it easy that day. Glassed some blocks, and spotted a black wolf going after a bull moose. Sweet! That afternoon my Dad is cruising into a glassing spot on the bike when he turns the corner and sees said wolf 10 yards away! Brakes go on and the rifle comes out but by that time the wolf was long gone. My buddy and I at our glassing spot in the evening, almost got run over by a runt of a blackie, who never even saw we were there!
Day 7
Went back in early to the valley with much anticipation. Blowdowns didn’t seem to matter as much! There he was. We set up from across the valley (about 350 yards away), where two of our guys without tags (my Dad and I both had tags) were going to back us up and keep an eye on the slide. Dad and I went in slowly, and times on hands and knees. Crossed the river, and got ourselves within what we thought was easy 200 yards. (Didn’t have the range finder on us, this was clearly a mistake) Both of us had solid rests, and waited till he came out broadside. I counted to three, focused on a brown patch on his shoulder, touched off my round, and hit him somewhere cause he spun and bit at the wound. Dad followed up and hit him in the chest/gut, and sent him for a tumble. He then bolted for the alders. Buddy up on the hill sent in a round, and says he saw it hit the rear leg. I saw fur and let fly again but no guarantees on that one. We thought he was down for the count and started our celebrations. Then we get the news from the buddy spotting that our bear had got up, and dragging his back leg headed for the timber. What a disappointment. Every BC hunters worst nightmare come true. Waited three hours and then picked up a very faint blood trail, which was a bit surprising. Went back out to get through the thick stuff before dark with very heavy hearts and not a lot of hope.
Day 8
Went back in and picked up the trail. This guy went for 1.5 kilometers, covering 600 vertical feet, going straight up through the nastiest blowdowns you have ever seen. Unbelievable. I have a new respect for these animals. Found his last blood at a bedding spot straight above the trail (he could easily see his back trail), and where he had access to water from a nearby spring. He had rubbed his wounds on a log and stopped the bleeding. Spent the rest of the day looking for him and couldn’t find hide nor hair. Dad and I decided that if the opportunity arose we would only take one more bear, and consider this one a cut tag.
Day 9
Could have gone to look for another one, but the wind was out of our sails, so we did some fising, packed up camp, did some gold panning in a nearby creek, and then headed home.
For the record my Dad and I have never lost an animal, and we both felt we did our best given the circumstances. We looked for another drop of blood for over 3 hours. We went home with clean consciences, but very heavy hearts.
Day 10
Steve emails me to tell me he came up to visit camp (which we had had to move because of the snow) and saw a 7.5 foot silvertip within 30 minutes hike of the road!!! Ouch. Needless to say he raced around trying to find us, which he couldn’t.
Sorry for the long read, hope to get some pics posted soon.