The day started at dawn this morning in promising fashion. Two bull moose in the first hour of still hunting -- a six-pointer in rifle range, followed by a tag-along spike now in longbow range as I inched forward. As I lacked (1) a moose tag and (2) an open season in which to use one, I let them go unmolested. :D
The rest of the day passed uneventfully until coming out. ("Uneventfully" in this case means that in twelve hours of hunting, the archery deer tag that I did possess was never close to being used.) Having hunted into the wind pretty much all day, coming out the same route meant there was little hope of connecting on the way out. Still, the breeze at my back was not very strong, so I kept a close watch.
My planned route back followed a logging tote road around a sizable beaver pond about 3/4 mile from my vehicle. As I approached the pond near sundown, I spied some movement behind some bushes about 250 yards ahead, movement that was several shades too black to be a deer. Yup, the binoculars revealed a bear that was seeking something near the pond, right on my intended route. I couldn't figure it out at first - there are virtually no berries left and he was nowhere near any beech or oak tree.
Ordinarily, being a big fan of all things bruin, I'd take the time to watch him until he concluded his business and sauntered off. But my path would take me right into him in the gloaming; the alternative meant a detour of at least another forty-five minutes in getting back to my vehicle. Having promised to make a "safe and sound" call home at the fast-approaching hour of darkness, and not being sure of cell phone reception on the detour route, I pondered my choices for a couple minutes.
Eventually the advancing evening spurred me to action. I moved directly upwind and into the open and waited. Sure enough, Blackie eventually rose on his hind legs, sampled the air and glided into the bushes. As I came up on the pond, I spotted a beaver in a small channel next to the trail, right where the bear had been working. It was easily the sort of place where a well-timed pounce from the bushes might have been rewarded. It would have been thrilling to watch a bear try to take a beaver.
My enthusiasm started to wane however, when one of Bucky's compatriots slapped the far side of the pond about 100 yards away. It was too far from me and I was too obscured for me to have been the cause. Uh oh -- "somebody" had not abandoned the hunt.
So, now we have a bear bent on predation, his meal interrupted, darkness coming on hard, and I'm about to bump him again, only this time I have no idea where he is. Hmm, maybe leaving the bear spray at home wasn't as smart as it seemed last night. So, it's a Zwickey Eskimo on the string instead, backed up by the comforting thought, "Well, if he shows up in these bushes along the road, at least the range won't be very far when he does . . . ."
Happy to report that the beavers and I made it to our respective lodges intact. However, knowing what I do of Bruin, I'm not sure that Bucky's future is all that bright.
Topic: Bucky Beaver 1, Bruin 0 (for now . . . ) (Read 207 times)
