As the last day of the hunt came around I thought of how the hunt had gone.
It wasn't really any different than most of the other hunts I'd been on... the bears treated me with the usual contempt that I'd come to expect.
Just like other camps I'd made new friends to last a lifetime and you can't have too many of those.
I'd gotten off into a different kind of mountains and gained great respect for the country I was hunting. That just goes to show how different it all really is.
I know it really opened up my eyes. The fertility and recyling of the old and the the new springing forth with a vigor that defies description.
For my parting shot the guides had put there heads together and placed me at a bait they called the gravel pile bait.
Curtis had sat it the day before and had seen nothing, but everyone seemed positive it was due to be hit... I couln't argue with that. It was as good a looking spot as I had seen.
This time I was off down the side of the mountain about 15 yards from the bait. Gary had walked me in and showed me where to expect the bear to come from. "Yep", I thought to myself, "a natural".
As the hours till dark turned to minutes I found that I really didn't care if I got a bear or not. Sure it would have been nice to shoot one, but I'd given it a good try and that's just as important.
Across the ridge I could hear a pine squirrel calling in that irritated chatter they do when they see something they don't like.
After a bit another sounded off down the ridge further. Then again the one right over the ridge sounded off.
I imagined the bear was around and checking things out. The wind was in my favor so I wasn't worried about that. Only time was my enemy here.
A small stick breaking off to my left got my attention as a cow elk walked nervously below me.
She never really looked at me and I wondered if it was the bear that kept her muscles rippling under a sleek tawny hide.
Soon she had walked out of my life.
I kept looking down the ridge expecting, even trying to will the bear to appear, but it was not to be.
As the space between shadows blended together and the mountain was inveloped by the darkness, I folded my stool and trudged away from the bait. It was over now and I knew it.
When I got out to the road I decided that since it would take Gary a while to get to me from where he would pick up Shaun, I'd just walk on down the road and meet them along the way.
I don't know what made me take off in the direction I did. I knew better, but wasn't thinking I guess.
It was the wrong way.
I guess I put on a mile or two before tiring and setting up my stool in the road to wait. It seemed a very long time until finally lights of a vehicle appeared around the bend in the road.
Gary had gotten to my pickup point and not seeing me waiting there had walked in to help me with what he was sure would be a dead bear.
Of course I wasn't there, but what he found was interesting to say the least... the bait had been hit.
I hadn't been gone a half an hour and the bear had made it's appearance.
Well, that figures! The bear had probably waited for me to leave, knowing full well I was there. They do that sometimes.
I had to laugh a little inside. The bears had won another one... and I didn't care a bit. It had been a great trip and I'd go again in a heart beat.
Because like the Mick sang in the song, "You can't always get what you want... but if you try sometime, you might find... you get what you need!
Topic: Lemon drops, mountain tops, and bears. (Read 2538 times)
