Jul 08
21
Tale of Two Bears
It was opening morning of fall brown bear season on the Alaska Peninsula, and already we had seen more bears than most people will see in their life time. Nine o clock in the morning found us at the edge of a clearing, where several bears had been traveling, and we hoped that this day would produce the same traffic. However the weather was taking a turn for the worst. We hunkered in the grass against the ever increasing wind, wondering if we should stay or go, that’s when the big brown bear came into sight, heading straight for us. We had arrived two days before the season opener, and had plenty of time to evaluate the terrain, and observe the bear’s movements.
My client was a bow hunter from Kansas, which required not just a good location for stalking the bears, but a much closer range from which to shoot, and much more patience. Our first night was not a pleasant one, spent in a spike tent on the beach. We had been dropped there by super cub, however the high tide prevented us from crossing the river to our campsite. Then the wind proceeded to blow upwards of 40 miles an hour, requiring us to use every spare piece of drift wood available on the otherwise bare beach, to hold our tent down against the gusts. Needless to say we did not get much sleep, but survived. The next day was spent crossing the river, setting up camp, retrieving fresh spring water from a creek that poured from the mountainside, and checking the area for bear activity. All of which proved successful, so by evening we made our way to a nearby hilltop vantage point. The view from up top was stunning, and we spotted 10 bears that day, and several of which were 9 plus.
As we made our way back down the hill at dusk, we encountered an 8 ft. bear coming up the trail that we were descending. We stopped and waited, as a cold chill made its way up my spine, my mind quickly came up with outlandish ideas of why the bear was coming to us. It got within 80 yards before it got a good whiff of us and he was gone in a flash of brush. Very warily we ventured back to our tent in the dark. Things were looking good for our morning hunt, although we were prepared to spend the entire ten days if need be for the perfect chance. It was the next morning that found us hunkered down in the grass. The client spotted the bear first, as it advanced in our direction, on a heavily used trail. It didn’t take long before it passed the bushes in front of us, and began its broadside pass. My client’s bow was ready though, and as I whispered the yardage to him, he waited for his moment. 50… 45… 35… 25… 25 yards as the bear began to pass us. He waited. Then “FLING” went the arrow. The bear, highly irritated at the newly sliced hole in his side, proceeded to run 30 yards away, cross over and run back at us, dropping not 20 yards away, all the while my rifle was at the ready, in case the shot didn’t prove fatal.
We began our hoots, hollers, and back slaps, until the bow hunter turned and grabbed me by the shoulder, “another bear!” he shouted. Hurriedly I turned to find another bear not ten feet from us, coming at us on all fours! Bang! A warning shot over its head, as we slowly backed away into the brush. Thankfully that was all it took to send this second bear away, but it was a little too close for comfort.Finally our attention went back to the dead bear, after our hands quite shaking, and we were able to relish the excitement and the joy of success. Pictures and words cannot adequately describe the rush of the hunt, but the memories of the experience, and the excitement we had will last a long time, and not to mention the nine foot bear mount that will serve as a reminder of the rugged Alaskan Experience, even if it was only a one day hunt.The grip of victory!
