Finally found my camera, I was starting to get worried, figured maybe Callshot had pawned it for a glass of water.
Our recent 6 day bear hunt turned into part of 2 days. We got rained on, then snow & wind, then more rain......did I mention it rained, holy cow did it rain. We sat in the camper day after day, at least we had several movies to watch including North & South, great movie.
The wind picked up our awning & took it 50 yds into a large pond.
When we finally got out we had to go slow with the 4 wheelers through 11 miles of mud! We hadn't been on the mountain 10 minutes & spotted our first bears, over the next 6 hours we had spotted 15 total, mostly sows with 2 little Obamas in tow, but 3 were shooters.
As we prepared to make a stalk on a nice Cinammon phase bear a snow storm moved in & swallowed us up like Hoover & a Huckleberry shake. We hunkered down under some pines & waited but the storm hung in there for 2 hrs & we decided that Ruth Ann's cooking was more inviting than sitting there freezing to death.
I have a grandson thats 13 & this was his first bear hunt, he did smoke a very nice 4X4 muley buck with me last fall but he had a dose of bear fever that wasn't going to go away until he whacked one.
The next partial day we got back up there quite late again because of the mud, just couldn't make any time. Still we managed to locate more bears including the same Cinammon boar we had spotted the day before. He was in the small little draw except 200 yds lower, he was busy munching on fresh green grass, sun flowers & wild onions.
When a bear feeds it doesn't pay much attention to whats going on around it, they are the supreme predator (except for wolves) & unless they hear or smell something they just keep right on eating. If you are hunting spot & stalk like we always do & you are quiet & have the wind you can slip right in on a bear & kick him right in the Biden (Joe).
With his dad coaching they started to close the gap, since I was about a mile away I didn't know what was taking place until I heard a faint echo roll up the valley, its always a good thing when you only hear one shot.
There is some of the finest bear hunting in the US in central Idaho. Just draw a straight line from Boise over to the Montana border & all the way to Canada & you have prime bear hunting, much of it you can take 2 bears.
Using a custom 243, same one he torched the muley with he went prone while dad shot the bear with the range finder, Mr. Ziess whispered....375 yds. Telling Ridge where to hold & to take his time he sent a Federal factory load whistling across 375 yds of some of the prettiest country in Idaho & center punched his first bruin. It was hugs & dancing as father & son shared a moment that will last forever, those times are special & I remember them well.
After waking up another grandson (Brock) we headed up the long mountain & soon found them getting their packs ready. After dropping off the mountain, crossing a small stream & climbing 2/3's the way up Mt. McKinley (felt like it) we found Ridges bear, what a dandy, probably a 4 yr old boar, nice big head, long powerful claws & a pelt that would have been fabulous 10 days ago, he had done quite a bit of rubbing, indicating the bears had been out for several days.
This is a mammy & 2 Obammys at about 900 yds.
This is Ridge's Cinammon phase boar taken at 375 yds.
This is the proud mom with her 4 son's.
These bears are muscled up like Fermin & have paws like Hoover.
We normally go a week to 10 days earlier but for various reasons this one was later. Mom & the 2 little boys had watched the whole show & everybody was having a great time. After helping skin the bear & removing one front shoulder I bid them farewell & took off with Brock to hunt another area. We had a long way to go & it was late afternoon.
After waking Brock up (again) I point across a long canyon to a black spot that was moving across the bottom part of a grassy meadow. After making a quick check for cubs I decided this bear was a shooter & took off. Ridges bear was just over 5 feet, a nice boar, nothing like his dads monster from a few years ago but a very respectable first bear. This Blackie 800 yds from me appeared to be a bit bigger than Ridges bear so I knew it was worth the chase.
The wind was blowing up the canyon, I'm on one side, mr. bear is on the other side & theres a small stream in the bottom, perfect. I had to keep the wind in my favor, if I crossed over the bear would have me in 2 seconds, there nose is amazing, I had to make the stalk from my side, at least until I got beyond the bear & then make my final approach.
Even though I didn't have my fast Croc's on I closed the gap fairly fast, I was mostly walking straight without any uphill or downhill travel. At 200 yds the bear was looking bigger all the time, he's still stuffing fresh grass in his mouth & I'm quite pleased so far. I am a little concerned about running out of time, it was about 6:45 & I needed to make something happen in the next hour.
The bear would feed out of sight for 5 minutes or so & then feed right out in the open, when he was in the open I was very careful, when he fed out of sight I hustled ever closer. My custom Alan Harton 5 shot 480 hung gently over my left ribs, nestled in one of Mike Barranti's works of art, the North West Hunter. Inside was 380 grs of lead posion that I hoped to donate to mr. bear. These are HP's & I was certain they would do the job if I did mine, I had no doubt they would break both shoulders.
Some of the stuff I'm crawling through is causing a few swear words, my arms were getting cut from the many sticker bushes I was pushing aside. I had stripped down to bare minimum because I really sweat when I'm after a critter.
Finally I'm almost even with the large black & we're about level with each other, he doesn't know it but the next 30 seconds are very important to both of us. Just ahead of him is a patch of heavy brush, maybe 30 yds wide, in the center of it is a small spring seeping out of the moutain. I have him at about 90-100 yds but decide to let him walk in & then I'll move ahead 20 yds & be slightly ahead of him when he walks out.
He does & I do & I sit down, slide my left wrist through the leather thong on my walking stick & take a couple of sight pictures. The bear is still out of sight, I thumb back the hammer on the big Bisley & smile....this is make up time baby. 3 years ago I had gun problems on a very nice bear & went home kicking horse turds, this time I planned to even the score.
I figured at this distance & locked in with my left wrist thorugh the sling I was probably quite capable of hitting a pop can at this distance. Get ready bear, hell's coming!
I waited 2-3 minutes no bear, no problem, he's been out of sight longer than that in the last 1 1/2 hours. I wait another 2-3 minutes & then things got really crazy. I glanced over my left shoulder & 150 yds down the mountain & 50 yds higher is a bear. Whats going on, did he scent me & run, he couldn't have, if he had scented me he would be blasting up that moutain like a black Hummer. No, this had to be a second bear, I keep glancing across into the brush, no bear, I'm running out of time & don't know if I've got 1 bear or 2.
I look at my watch & decide I have to go after the bear to my left, I hurry down to the small stream, cross over & climb about 100 yds, now if there was a bear in the brush I've gave him my scent, I'll never know. I start easing through some scattered brush to my left, both arms are bleeding from the beating they're taking from the stickers, can't wait.
When you get in really close to a bear its nerve wracking because they can hear so well, I'm trying to hurry but go slow at the same time. I glass back acoss the moutain to see if my grandson can see the second bear, he points ahead of me & higher, the bears still there. Now I'm sweating like Callshot at the cash register & the sun is getting lower. I decide to walk out into the open & speed up, my grandson points ahead of me, the bear is feeding into some heavy pines.
If I go in the pines its almost impossible to close the gap without him hearing me, plus the wind will probaly bust me, I'm beat again & I know it, so close but I've failed again, what a hunt, what a stalk, I love it, I live for it.
Dropping down to the crick I drink 3 gallons plus 2 quarts (seems like it) shoulder my pack & make the long hike up the mountain to my disappointed grandson, he thinks I never fail, I've failed lots of times.
This is Shane's monster 7/ 9" boar from 3 years ago.
My 6' 9" boar taken 4 years ago with a 10" 44 maggie.
Dick
