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I slept well Tuesday evening, and awoke with much anticipation for Wednesday's hunt. I chose to remain in the same stand as Tuesday, hoping that the bruin I saw Tuesday night would make an earlier appearance - in better shooting light and before my guide showed up. As I was in my stand at around 3pm, I didn't expect much to happen in the first couple of hours, so I sat back and relaxed, listening to the multitude of birds and chipmunks at play near my stand. After having a sandwich around 6pm, I got into a better shooting position, as I was told that you never know when a bear will show up. As luck would have it, around 7:30pm I caught a glimpse of something to my left at the edge of the trees. There he was.....maybe the same bear I saw in the gloomy blackness of the previous night, maybe not. Not a big bear by any means, but a shooter nonetheless. Not wanting to blow this opportunity, I slowly raised my rifle and got into a comfortable shooting position. I let the bear walk around the bait for a couple of minutes before placing the crosshairs behind his shoulder when he presented a good broadside shot. When I was ready, I squeezed the trigger. The bear jumped, turned his hear around to his side, did a 360, and bolted on all fours toward a swampy area through the trees behind the barrel. I thought I hit him good, but I wasn't sure. I waited to hear a death moan, but none ever came. I tried to reach my guide on the walkie-talkie, but he must have been just out of radio range, as I got no reply. Not knowing whether I should have gotten down from the stand to try to find blood or other traces of a hit (as this was the first shot I ever took at a bear) I settled in for the next couple of hours until the scheduled time for my guide to pick me up. When the guide arrived, we used our flashlights to try to find any evidence of a hit, and the only thing we could get was a tuft of hair with some root-meat attached. We decided to head out in the morning when the light would be better to search for any sign. Well, as my (bad) luck would have it, after about two hours we gave up the search. We resigned ourselves that it was just a flesh wound and the bear would be fine. So, I went to bed that night somewhat heartbroken and embarrased. But, I promised myself that the next time I would be sure of the shot.
Thursday, I decided to try another stand that had been getting hit for the past few days. It was a 53 yard shot from stand to barrel, I was up about 8 feet in a cedar tree, and the bait was getting hit hard. I sat in the stand for 6 1/2 hours with intense anticipation of seeing something. But, again, it was not meant to be that day.
Friday, I decided to stay at that same stand, as when we checked the barrel in the morning, the bait was again cleaned out. I set up around 3:30pm and must have said my prayers a dozen times. 7pm rolled around and I started to get a little fidgety. It had been quite since I setup, and I was losing hope. Just then, around 7:30pm (just like Wednesday night), to my left out came from some scrub a nice-looking bruin (boy, those bears sure can be quite, even in the driest of leaves and twigs). It looked small when it walked by my stand about 20 feet away (a perfect bow and arrow shot), and I watched it make its way down to the barrel. I forced myself to be patient this time, as there was plenty of shooting light left, and I watched the bear wander around the barrel and finally stick its nose in the opening presenting me with a nice broadside shot (I set up my barrels with them lying down, positioned so that the bear would be slightly quartering away when it sticks its head in the opening). He pulled out what I later found out was a half of a pound cake, picked it up in his mouth, and carried it about 10 feet from the barrel. At this point, I had the bear in my scope's crosshairs (my Leupold VX-1 set for 4X power), and prepared for a shot. My biggest concern at this point was that the bear would lay down on its belly to eat, thus squashing my target area. But, he remained standing while he chewed away on the bait, oblivious to what I was about to give him. Slowly, I moved the crosshairs right on his left shoulder, breathed slightly, and slowly squeezed the trigger. In an instant, I worked the bolt to put another round in the chamber just in case the shot missed its intended mark and I had to shoot again. Fortunately, the bullet hit well just behind the shoulder - I think it actually grazed the shoulder bone - and the bear went stiff where it stood, shuddered a bit, and toppled over. A few kicks of its front legs and he went still. I immediately called my guide on the radio (fortunately, we did a radio check right after he dropped me off, and he stayed well within radio distance), and let him know there was a bear down at the barrel. I confirmed that it was my shot he heard (he was only a 1/4 mile away), and he said he would be there soon to help me load my prize onto the bed of his pickup truck.
As he was pulling up, I was making my way from the stand to the bear. We looked at the bruin and saw that it had been doing some rubbing. I had wanted to make a rug, if I was lucky enough to get a bear, and this was truly a dissapointment. But, on the positive side, from the breast forward the hide was in good shape and I had the outfitter skin it out for a 3/4 mount. Hopefully, the taxidermist will be able to work with it. The bear weighed in at 185 lbs. Not bad, as I was told that the average for that area was between 150 and 250 lbs, and 300+ lb bears have been taken in that area. I also took home the back straps (loins) which should make for some good eating.
When all is said and done, it was a successful week. I got my bear, as did two of the other three guys I went up there with. I won the biggest-bear pool ($100) for the week. And, I came home with a good story to tell. I can't wait until next year, when I hope to take an even bigger bear with a better coat on it (I really want that rug) and an even better story to tell.
Thanks for listening (reading, actually) everyone.
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