I guess I fell a little short in my duties...but my hunt was so uncharacteristically short, and without incident, that I guess I just didn't feel I had a lot to tell.
Barry and I went out Saturday with Tom and Allen as soon as we got our gear stowed- to make a baiting run. I wanted to see some of the setups first hand and get an idea of where I might be hunting.
We ran 6 or 7 baits and it was obvious to me this was going to be a good bear hunt. There were many trees around these bait sites that had been bitten or clawed by the bears and the bark ripped down to the roots so the bears could lick the cambium layer of the tree and obtain what's required to get their digestive systems back up and running after coming out of hibernation.
The ground around the bait sites was clear of brush, spots up over our heads marked up by claws, and at least 3 or 4 heavily worn trails moving into every bait we looked at.
There was something about three of the baits which I felt made them better candidates than the others, but only slightly. Deli, Bowl, and Resurrection. They decided to put Bob on Deli, me on The Bowl, and Barry was happy with Resurrection so it was decided.
On the way back from baiting, Barry said he was feeling a little whipped and thought he might sit out going to stand- worried about fallng asleep etc..and I thought that was a great idea as I had actually driven 9 hours Thursday, 10 hours Friday, plus a stop at Cabela's in Pennsylvania and a late lunch near Hudson NY with my friend Alex Bugnon-then rode up with Lloyd all the way to camp Friday night/Saturday morning, so I followed suit.
We set up a practice treestand and some bear targets.After setting up our bows we shot some practice arrows. The fellows who wanted to sit that first night went out, and the rest of us busied ourselves around camp.
The evening was quiet until Bowdoc showed up with his 'first and fastest' bear..and announced he would be the chief cook from that point forward! I for one am glad he did as he treated us to some fine meals during the course of the week.
On Sunday afternoon the whole camp got out on stand. I made it to The Bowl around 5, with Allen dropping me off- as we walked in quietly we bumped a bear off the bait- a pretty good sign, I figured. Allen came in with me to bang the barrel a little and make it sound like normal baiting activity while I got squared away in the stand. That accomplished, off he went with well wishes for a good evening.
As the vehicle started up and drove off, fading into the distance, there was nothing but the quiet, at least to city dwellers that is - but it's anything but real quiet in a forest- birds, bugs, the wind whispering in the birch leaves and caressing the needles at the tops of the spruces seemed to wrap its arms around me and tell me I was where I was meant to be- peaceful, yes, quiet, no.
I sat there analyzing the different trails coming to the stand, to see if I could determine which direction the bear might come from.The wind was blowing from my left, and angling toward the road we parked on.
While I was doing that, a black form appeared straight in front of me..moving slowly..stopping often to stick its nose in the air - for me- for a sow-I'm not sure..(most bears here seemed a little cautious coming to bait,I gathered by the end of the week) which squares with having high bear numbers and them wanting to keep from getting their rear ends kicked, as lots of boars were moving around trying to find a sow in season at this time of year.
The bear seemed to have a great coat, and was the largest bear I'd had come within shooting distance on three previous bear hunts where I never took a shot because the bears seemed too small.
In about 5 minutes the bear veered off the main trail coming in, and went to the right apparently wanting to circle the bait before coming in.
When the wind from the bait barrel hit his nose, however, all plans to circle left him and he turned on a dime -moving straight to the bait - immediately grabbing a piece of pork.
I was planning on waiting for him to get comfortable, but with his body broadside, his left foreleg moved forward I figured "why wait?"
He was five yards in front of me and in less time than it takes to tell I drew from my seated position, anchored, picked my exit hole and the arrow appeared through the side of the bear in exactly the spot I wanted it to, doing a "Steve Martin"- half way out each side.
The bear roared and exploded out of there, reversing his route in. He snapped the arrow off and both pieces landed on the ground about 4 yards down the trail. He ran angling up the sidehill route he came in on and just about 2 seconds after leaving, he began rolling down the hill, and came to rest against a log.
I immediately heard the death moan- three times- softer each time- as JC says, there is not a sound quite like that anywhere in my experience.
And that was it- all the weeks of hunting prior bear trips with no success, two weeks of anticipation about this hunt- in a matter of 25 minutes from being put on stand, it was OVER.
I waited 5 minutes, but there seemed little reason to continue as I was watching the bear through my Leicas and he did not move once. So I decided rather than sit here and stink up the site, perhaps messing up the bait for someone else, I got down, got my gear together, and moved over to check my bruin.
A great blood trail I didn't need to follow led me to my bear. I sat there a few minutes looking at his coat and impressive claws and teeth, grabbed a leg to drag him out to the road.
He didn't move much at all. I pulled a little harder- and felt something in my gut twinge. I needed help. I also thought about pulling him all that way and realized it might mess up the coat, which I wanted to get soft tanned, so off I went to get the vehicle and help.
I did not know exactly where Allen was but knew the general area so headed out to get the vehicle and back to camp for some strong backs.
I walked by the river, about 2 miles to the dead end, and turned left, heading away from the main road, where I thought Allen should be parked.
Another two miles though, brought me to another intersection-I checked tracks in the road and really could not determine where he had gone, so I decided to head back to the dead end, and wait there until dark rather than risk missing him.
I rounded the first corner going back and a small paddled bull moose walked across the road, going up a hill which I later learned put him on a path toward a stand I think was called "the Ridge". Cool. I like meeses.
I waited, watching a huge variety of birds, a red squirrel getting nabbed by an owl, and just as it got too dark to see,here came Allen. It had been exactly 4 hours since I shot my bear.
We exchanged stories about our luck, and decided to retrieve my bear. On our arrival,Allen checked the bear and said it was a decent one- above average for the area. He wanted us to grab it up and walk out with it.
My hernia had other ideas though. I asked if we could tie it to a pole and walk it out that way and Allen agreed. We did, and with some difficulty I picked up my end of the bargain and we walked him to the truck- I fell twice trying to get over logs but no harm was done to anything but my pride.
We got back to camp and learned that several of our folks had been successful. It was a night full of celebration and congratulations. We would retrieve those still unrecovered, take photos, and skin them all- in the morning.