I spent some time playing around with my camera, fartin' around in the woods, and generally enjoying life back in the Cove...amazing how time flies like an arrow. As the sunlight began to slowly drain out of the sky, I heard the sound of an outboard heading down the lake. Presently, Lloyd turned in to the mouth of the cove and headed to the back. Here's his reaction when he saw the bear on the bank:
The grin on Buschy's face told me how pleased he was for me...and I felt like Tom, Allen, Bowdoc, and Lloyd had all played a big part in helping me. His right hand squeezed mine, and his left hand slapped me on the back. He was truly happy for me, even though he could pick my bear up like a bale of hay and toss it in the boat.
He cranked up the motor, and we jockeyed the boat around for the trip home. As we cruised smoothly across the slick surface of the lake, I couldn't help snapping another shot:
As we pulled in to the camp, Lloyd nosed the boat in to the bank, and we dropped off the bear and my gear. Soon, Tom and Bowdoc came trotting down the lane to the scale area, followed by a few of my Bear Quest Brothers. Everyone wore big grins, and the handshakes and backslaps were plentiful and genuine. Bowdoc gave me a big ol' hug. The small size of my bear didn't put anyone off, and fellow campers pulled out cameras and snapped me in another pose. We carried the bear to the camp scale, and soon he was hanging - 78 pounds. And a thick, flawless coat three inches deep.
A small bear. But maybe that's as it should be. A "first" of anything should not be a pinnacle, it should be a beginning. If I'd shot a Pope and Young bear, what reason would I have to return? And I do want to return....
Topic: Bear Quest III >>---> Start Your Engines (Read 22662 times)
