6 K
11-06-2011, 08:44 AM
After a very sphincter puckering,grizzly recovery experiance the evening before that ended in four quick shots and a dead grizz right at last light.i needed to return to the scean to retrieve my rain pants and hunting boots from the creek's edge. I opted not to carry them with me as we looked for the wounded bruin.
Wanting really only to get back and help with the fleshing that needed to be done back at camp, I was not being overly causious about scent or noise I was creating. So it came as somewhat of a surprise when I heard that very distinct grunting below me. Another one?
We had spotted no less than seven grizzlies the first evening we returned to the kutzylope, one of which was a real dandy blonde, but were unable to get a shot for my partner, whom we had decided, should get the first one since I got a bear last trip we were here and due to the fact I was looking for my third and he his first.the morning of the second day had produced only the sound of a quickly departing bear so we chose to vacate the area, allowing the bears to return undisturbed to their fishing and us to do some of our own.That is when some very carless knife handleing on my part had almost ended the trip. A deep cut from knuckle to knuckle on my left hand trigger finger was the reward for my stupidity. Good thing the medic and his kit were up to snuff. With a watchful eye on the wound we determined we could keep hunting. That night had produced a beautiful 6ft8 grizz.
Now another bear was less than a hundred yds below me somewhere along my side of the creek. As I made my way down the bank a view through the trees allowed me a glance at a very large blonde head swimming across to the other side. "HOLY SNAPPERJACKS"! Could it be the blonde brute from two days past? It was only 100yds from the last place I had seen him. So it seemed possible if not probable. Moving quickly as I dare down the bear path to the water i steped up my stealth ten fold. Twenty yards from the bank I devated off the path to a raised nob that would offer an elivated view of the area I seen the bear crossing. To my astonishment he was still there eating a not so lucky sockeye. The wind in my favor alowed me a little time to evaluate this guy. Ears small and far apart, nose long, head and chest were blond, long claws, and most important lone bear. It sat on its haunches and finished devouring its prey I made ready to take the shot.
Cross hairs centered on the bears' chest as he faced me I pressured the trigger. T.Z.O.D. thundered once, the bear folded as the loudest bullet "SWITHACK" imaginable retured to me. Now I've heard bullets stike animals before but I knew somehow this was different. 24 hours previous I was thinking the trip was going to be curtailed due to my accident, now the second blonde of the trip made no noticable movement. Bear down! Wow. I went back to camp to pick up my somewhat excited partner. We returned to the grizz together took some pics and skinned. No other animals give me as much trouble with sizeing up as bears and to my dissapointment my trophy suffered ground shrinkage. The head was big; at least my male only streak was still in tackt, wrong! I shot the perverbaial blockheaded female. Crap!
Futher exsamining reviealed what had caused the pronounced sound of the bullet strike. She had one claw damaged and the next near blown off. More damage was discovered at the bace of the nose and down her chin also the entry wound was very long. Best I can make out she must have thought that soceye was "finger licking good" and moved to do just that when I touched off. The 200gr e-tip raked across one knuckle through the next, split her lip and chin, and started to endo when it smashed into her brisket. No wounder I heard it hit. Field optopsiy found the bullet had passed sideways through the chest and spine stopping less than an inch from the hide just below the half way point of the hump.
We returned to camp for 10:45 a full hour and a half earlier than the night before. In the morning we finished up our hide work and got to do a little more fishing. Minus the self-masacation this time. Then all too soon it was time to go.
Upon returning to my truck another twist awaited me. A broken window. Some p.o.s.-s.o.b. Swiped some of my partners gear he had intended to use for a goat hunt. Buggers! I would like to have found them; my skinning skills were all honed up. We could have left their measly carcasses next the bears'.
I chose to leave the skull in the hide to show our resident grizzly judgeing expert and get his oppion on weather he thought this las had a fellas knogen or weather I still required more accompanyment with feild judgeing the sex of bears. I told him the story in such a way as to leave the gender omitted. Coulden't help but smile when he said "well at least it's a boar".
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/11_GR_1.jpg
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/11_GR_2.jpg
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/11_GR_3.jpg
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/11_GR_4.jpg
Wanting really only to get back and help with the fleshing that needed to be done back at camp, I was not being overly causious about scent or noise I was creating. So it came as somewhat of a surprise when I heard that very distinct grunting below me. Another one?
We had spotted no less than seven grizzlies the first evening we returned to the kutzylope, one of which was a real dandy blonde, but were unable to get a shot for my partner, whom we had decided, should get the first one since I got a bear last trip we were here and due to the fact I was looking for my third and he his first.the morning of the second day had produced only the sound of a quickly departing bear so we chose to vacate the area, allowing the bears to return undisturbed to their fishing and us to do some of our own.That is when some very carless knife handleing on my part had almost ended the trip. A deep cut from knuckle to knuckle on my left hand trigger finger was the reward for my stupidity. Good thing the medic and his kit were up to snuff. With a watchful eye on the wound we determined we could keep hunting. That night had produced a beautiful 6ft8 grizz.
Now another bear was less than a hundred yds below me somewhere along my side of the creek. As I made my way down the bank a view through the trees allowed me a glance at a very large blonde head swimming across to the other side. "HOLY SNAPPERJACKS"! Could it be the blonde brute from two days past? It was only 100yds from the last place I had seen him. So it seemed possible if not probable. Moving quickly as I dare down the bear path to the water i steped up my stealth ten fold. Twenty yards from the bank I devated off the path to a raised nob that would offer an elivated view of the area I seen the bear crossing. To my astonishment he was still there eating a not so lucky sockeye. The wind in my favor alowed me a little time to evaluate this guy. Ears small and far apart, nose long, head and chest were blond, long claws, and most important lone bear. It sat on its haunches and finished devouring its prey I made ready to take the shot.
Cross hairs centered on the bears' chest as he faced me I pressured the trigger. T.Z.O.D. thundered once, the bear folded as the loudest bullet "SWITHACK" imaginable retured to me. Now I've heard bullets stike animals before but I knew somehow this was different. 24 hours previous I was thinking the trip was going to be curtailed due to my accident, now the second blonde of the trip made no noticable movement. Bear down! Wow. I went back to camp to pick up my somewhat excited partner. We returned to the grizz together took some pics and skinned. No other animals give me as much trouble with sizeing up as bears and to my dissapointment my trophy suffered ground shrinkage. The head was big; at least my male only streak was still in tackt, wrong! I shot the perverbaial blockheaded female. Crap!
Futher exsamining reviealed what had caused the pronounced sound of the bullet strike. She had one claw damaged and the next near blown off. More damage was discovered at the bace of the nose and down her chin also the entry wound was very long. Best I can make out she must have thought that soceye was "finger licking good" and moved to do just that when I touched off. The 200gr e-tip raked across one knuckle through the next, split her lip and chin, and started to endo when it smashed into her brisket. No wounder I heard it hit. Field optopsiy found the bullet had passed sideways through the chest and spine stopping less than an inch from the hide just below the half way point of the hump.
We returned to camp for 10:45 a full hour and a half earlier than the night before. In the morning we finished up our hide work and got to do a little more fishing. Minus the self-masacation this time. Then all too soon it was time to go.
Upon returning to my truck another twist awaited me. A broken window. Some p.o.s.-s.o.b. Swiped some of my partners gear he had intended to use for a goat hunt. Buggers! I would like to have found them; my skinning skills were all honed up. We could have left their measly carcasses next the bears'.
I chose to leave the skull in the hide to show our resident grizzly judgeing expert and get his oppion on weather he thought this las had a fellas knogen or weather I still required more accompanyment with feild judgeing the sex of bears. I told him the story in such a way as to leave the gender omitted. Coulden't help but smile when he said "well at least it's a boar".
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/11_GR_1.jpg
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/11_GR_2.jpg
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/11_GR_3.jpg
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/11_GR_4.jpg