Xenomorph
06-15-2016, 01:04 PM
I was going through the motions and was reading and getting antsy about not getting a bear this spring. I saw people head out early and I was just not able to, at one point I even put down the rifle/plans/desires.
It was a good buddy of mine that got me going. He's always the get-it-done type. Short call, followed by a let's go led us to a weekend hunt on Sunshine Coast in early May. Good sign followed but failed to connect as I was not alone. Another friend had tagged along for the experience and he wasn't as quiet as I was telling him to be. He's known -and yes, he's my best friend- for his overly active, gassy arse and he let loose a trombone resembling looooong fart. Half serious, half laughing I told him to stop, the bear will hear us.
He smiled and said "Do you think he'll hear this: ta-ta-ta*fart* ...ta-ta-ta*fart*" ...I swear no sooner he let loose that third trrrrrump and I mutter BEAR! and tried to get a shot through the branches. Too slow, caught him with a glimpse going up, he looked at us, down and bolted before I had a chance to shoulder anything. Good size boar, I'm saying boar because he was trailing the elk herd I stumbled onto the next morning at 5am. Made sense, 2+2 makes for dead calves and he was trailing them closely.
Couple of weeks passed before me staging anything. I got an itch and not a lot of time. Spoke to my bud, he was too busy, but I kept wanting to go, go, go.
And so we went. Grabbed my dad to tag along and help me just in case I connect. Started with an early morning 1am we were out the door, drove up to Pemberton and we had boots on the ground already when the sun decided to show up. Had a pretty good spot we were covering, lots of sign, I mean lots and fresh. Wind was good, camo was awesome ;)
He was feeding on the side of the road going into a ravine, wind was good but not much cover, made it pretty close but he caught me. Gods of the hunt, whomever was up there watching was on my side, because he didn't bolt it. This boy was the patch king and he wasn't moving away for a flimsy human, he just showed me the arse and started moving away from me. Crawled and tip toed and crawled some more until I topped the edge, he was close to 100yards away now, not feeding anymore, just moving away from me slowly, like consciously teasing me here, here's my arse.
He knew exactly where I am, I had no choice.
I sat down slowly. Brought my knees up, crossed arms and put my elbows on my knees and kept trailing him, my cross on his rear, looking for lateral movement.
I say, 120yards, my dad says over 140, but who cares, he decides to check on me before hitting the tree line and gently moved his head to the left to see/hear/smell what am I up to.
The 180g bullet went behind his left ear and dislocated the spine at the base of the skull. He flopped on the spot dead where he stood. Pushing 7' over 300lbs of grass fed goodness.
I've left a female walk a couple weeks later, in his area. She was just too beautiful and I have a feeling she had a cub in the tree line.
http://i67.tinypic.com/jpx0lv.jpg
It was a good buddy of mine that got me going. He's always the get-it-done type. Short call, followed by a let's go led us to a weekend hunt on Sunshine Coast in early May. Good sign followed but failed to connect as I was not alone. Another friend had tagged along for the experience and he wasn't as quiet as I was telling him to be. He's known -and yes, he's my best friend- for his overly active, gassy arse and he let loose a trombone resembling looooong fart. Half serious, half laughing I told him to stop, the bear will hear us.
He smiled and said "Do you think he'll hear this: ta-ta-ta*fart* ...ta-ta-ta*fart*" ...I swear no sooner he let loose that third trrrrrump and I mutter BEAR! and tried to get a shot through the branches. Too slow, caught him with a glimpse going up, he looked at us, down and bolted before I had a chance to shoulder anything. Good size boar, I'm saying boar because he was trailing the elk herd I stumbled onto the next morning at 5am. Made sense, 2+2 makes for dead calves and he was trailing them closely.
Couple of weeks passed before me staging anything. I got an itch and not a lot of time. Spoke to my bud, he was too busy, but I kept wanting to go, go, go.
And so we went. Grabbed my dad to tag along and help me just in case I connect. Started with an early morning 1am we were out the door, drove up to Pemberton and we had boots on the ground already when the sun decided to show up. Had a pretty good spot we were covering, lots of sign, I mean lots and fresh. Wind was good, camo was awesome ;)
He was feeding on the side of the road going into a ravine, wind was good but not much cover, made it pretty close but he caught me. Gods of the hunt, whomever was up there watching was on my side, because he didn't bolt it. This boy was the patch king and he wasn't moving away for a flimsy human, he just showed me the arse and started moving away from me. Crawled and tip toed and crawled some more until I topped the edge, he was close to 100yards away now, not feeding anymore, just moving away from me slowly, like consciously teasing me here, here's my arse.
He knew exactly where I am, I had no choice.
I sat down slowly. Brought my knees up, crossed arms and put my elbows on my knees and kept trailing him, my cross on his rear, looking for lateral movement.
I say, 120yards, my dad says over 140, but who cares, he decides to check on me before hitting the tree line and gently moved his head to the left to see/hear/smell what am I up to.
The 180g bullet went behind his left ear and dislocated the spine at the base of the skull. He flopped on the spot dead where he stood. Pushing 7' over 300lbs of grass fed goodness.
I've left a female walk a couple weeks later, in his area. She was just too beautiful and I have a feeling she had a cub in the tree line.
http://i67.tinypic.com/jpx0lv.jpg