SATURDAY: HUNT DAY 3As I said, after struggling to find the kind of sign that would make you want to stop and hunt any of the places we had scouted, Terry and I headed back up the mountain on Saturday morning, without a plan for what we’d do after eating our Bojangles biscuits. We continued to talk to other hunters who were reporting the same situation we were seeing—just not much sign. So we weren’t sure what our plan should be for the next to last day of my trip. But, trying something different seemed like a good option. And that’s exactly what we did.
When we had almost made it to the spot we had decided to park that morning, Terry suddenly blurted out, “STOP!” before telling me to back up. After putting the truck in reverse and rolling backward a bit, I saw Terry pointing off the side of the road at an obvious trail leading out of the woods. When we glanced to the other side of the road, a matching trail on the other side told us that animals were crossing here.
Not having anything else to go on that day, and knowing we needed to try something different, we drove forward, looking for a place to turn around. As we did, we noticed a few more of these trails leading out of an open area that was set back in the woods a bit. This piqued our interest more and made us even more excited to turn around and find a place to park.
After parking the truck, we gobbled up our mustard and biscuits, grabbed our gear, and headed through the woods back toward the open area from where the trails were leading. When we came out of the trees and into the sun, we found something like an overgrown field with more of those random “pickin’ trails” we had been seeing all week. We meandered around for a bit, looking for anything that might grab our attention, and eventually followed some of the trails out of the field back into the woods. We continued heading in the general direction those trails were leading for several minutes—both scouting and hunting. Again, we were looking for anything that would give us a reason to hunt this area.
And that’s when we found it.
Terry’s hunch had turned out to be a good one. Because suddenly, we came upon a trail that wasn’t like any of the other trails we had seen that week—except maybe the hiking trail we had used to get back into one of the other areas. In fact, I even tried to argue with Terry a few times that there was no way this could be a game trail. It had to be a hiking trail. But he was adamant, “No, this is a bear trail.”
I remained skeptical, though, as we made our way down it. Not because I didn’t trust Terry, but because I had never seen a trail like this. I was so skeptical I even pulled up the map on my phone, expecting to find a marked hiking trail right where we were standing. But Terry was right, there wasn’t one. “Nor is there a trailhead anywhere around here,” he reminded me.
So eventually, I accepted it. We were walking on a bear trail—no, it was a bear HIGHWAY. And it hadn’t been made last week, last month, or last year. Even to a neophyte bear hunter like me, I knew this was a trail that had been used for years and years and years—maybe decades. In fact, it was better than the manmade and man-maintained hiking trails in the area! As we made our way down it, the fact that this was, indeed, a bear trail became more and more clear to me.
We ended up following it deeper into the woods for a ways. The walk was taking us slowly downhill, but it wasn’t too steep—not by Cohutta standards, anyway. Happily, after slowly walking it for maybe half an hour, not knowing what we might run into, we found a couple of junction points where the trail split into different directions. We tested the wind in those areas and talked about good places to set up if we were to hunt it today—which I knew we were. And then, knowing we had seen enough, and not wanting to follow the trail any further and potentially mess up the hunting for that day, we slowly made our way back out.
Before we made it back to the truck, we had already agreed this was the hottest spot we had found. And with it being Saturday, and with me planning to head back to Alabama midday on Sunday, we both agreed that I should zero in on this location for the remainder of the hunt.
So with that decision made, and it being midmorning now, we headed back to the campground to check in with the group of hunters we had met yesterday. They were still struggling just as much as we were. But, they were cooking a late breakfast and having a good time, nonetheless.
Neither of us had shot our bows since I arrived on Thursday, and after leaving the other hunters, Terry announced that he was going to wander around and do a little stump shooting. I had a few things to do at the truck, but grabbed my bow and a judo-tipped arrow, and eventually joined him. Then, after making sure a few leaves were good and dead, we headed back to the truck to discuss our plans for the evening.
The weather forecast and the clouds that were building over our heads told us that rain was coming. But I was here to hunt, and rain wouldn’t keep me out of the woods. Particularly not after finding the “Bear Highway” earlier that morning.
I was fortunate that Terry’s priority on this hunt was the same as mine, for
me to get a shot at a bear, a deer, or a hog. And while there were two good spots to hunt along the “highway,” Terry didn’t want to add any additional pressure to the area. He wanted me to go in alone. And so, that was the plan.
Eventually, the rain started, and we camped out in the truck for a couple of hours, waiting until a little before 4:00, to drive back toward the area I would be hunting that afternoon. After borrowing and donning some rain gear from Terry, I grabbed the rest of my gear and headed up into the woods toward one of those junction points on the “Bear Highway.” When I arrived, I checked the wind and wasn’t surprised it had shifted after the rain moved in. But, I quickly found a great spot for my PacSeat, and had it set up in minutes, somewhere between 15-20 yards off the trail, depending on which shooting lane I was looking at.
Terry and I had already talked about how in this particular spot, a bear would be on me before I knew it, so I better be ready. And along with the rain had come some fog, which made this even more true. My visibility was definitely limited, and with the ground being as soft as it was, I wasn’t going to hear anything coming down the trail—or even moving in the brush off the trail. Not to mention that even though the rain quickly stopped, big drops were still coming down heavy out of the trees, drowning out any other sound the woods were making.
So I was on high alert. In fact, I told Terry later that night that I was mentally exhausted from being on point for over three hours. I had to keep my head on a constant swivel and my eyes scanning in every direction. That, along with the anticipation of what could come down the trail any minute, really wore me out. I’m sure some of you can relate to what I’m saying.
With about an hour of hunting light left, and with my legs asking to be stretched, I stood up to lean my back against a tree that was about ten feet directly behind me. I thought this might give me a better view of the area around me, but I’m not sure that it did. My setup in the PacSeat that afternoon was really, really good. But, I decided to remain where I was, and it was from that vantage point against the tree that I would watch the daylight slowly turn to darkness (something that was aided by the fog) without any animal ever coming down the “highway.”
As I walked out that evening, I knew I only had one sit remaining—tomorrow (Sunday) morning. But, I was very confident in the spot we had found. There was no doubt bears were moving through and using this area regularly. I only needed one to mess up and do it while I was there.