Gastro Gnome - Eat Better Wherever

Gratitude and My First Bear. Long Story.

RG_Adult_Onset_Hunter

Well-known member
Joined
Dec 10, 2019
Messages
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Location
Ruch, Oregon
The story of my first ever bear (harvested about one week ago) is a LONG one. Too long to even get the successful hunt day int HT's 10000 character limit for a single post. I want to tell this whole story though, so I will be posting sort of episodically. With that said I want to at least tease the story a bit:

“That’s a big bear; shoot it in the head"

“I’m on him”

The crosshairs stay on a spot on the bears head mostly obscured by a tree. It’s not yet time. I wait and the bear moves closer to my caller. Out of sight briefly to scale the hill effortlessly in a second, doing what would take me 30. 18 yards, and quartering towards me slightly.

“Shoot him in the head…do you not want this one?”

My safety snicks off in the hopes that my partner would understand that I was a bit busy.

The bear stares intently at my decoy, I stare intently at him. I have not been so calm in a long time…

Bear Paw.jpg
 

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I'm in. But I see a bow! Wait, what???

That was my hunting buddy. I was using a rifle. He had a bow and a pistol backup. He is a VERY experienced archer. I gave serious thought to bringing my bow on this hunt (compound), but lacking a pistol backup and at the insistence of my wife I brought the .308 instead. It was also kinda important to me to have a solid rifle shot on a bear, for reasons that will become apparent as I go through the story. Two years of hunting bear to get this guy is not a story easily trimmed down.
 
I'm hooked. I'm 0 for 2 hunts with bear.

Keep at it. Bear requires patience, they take a lot longer to pattern than a deer because they change their schedule every few weeks. This might sound stupid, but I do an Operational Parameters worksheet for every hunt complete with Intel, Weather Report, Hunt Plan, Gear List, etc. The most important part of it (besides helping me recall important details prior to the hunt) is the recap. I write down what I found, learned, screwed up. That way I can go back and look at that data and start to pick out patterns.

Awesome bear!
That’s a big bear, congratulations.

Thank you, The picture of the packout is the only one I have that really conveys how big this animal was. I probably won't post the standard Grip & Grin because his tounge is hanging out in the picture. But I might post a few more shots of the bear as I post the rest of the story.

As to posting the rest of the story, Should I do it in comments here, or do a fresh post? I really can't decided how to break it up.
 
I do an Operational Parameters worksheet for every hunt complete with Intel, Weather Report, Hunt Plan, Gear List, etc. The most important part of it (besides helping me recall important details prior to the hunt) is the recap.

Is there any way you could share what your worksheet looks like. I do expedition planning as well that I would do for backpacking. It works great for the safey side of things and having the plan left with a loved one to hand off to S&R if that ever happens. I would love to see how hunting data could be compiled in a similar manner, seems like thats what you are doing.
 
Is there any way you could share what your worksheet looks like. I do expedition planning as well that I would do for backpacking. It works great for the safey side of things and having the plan left with a loved one to hand off to S&R if that ever happens. I would love to see how hunting data could be compiled in a similar manner, seems like thats what you are doing.

Here is one from an actuall hunt I did (specific locations changed).

Bear Hunt Operational Parameters

Objective

Kill a mature bear (preferably a boar) in the Predator Alley area and retrieve the meat/hide. This trip has a low probability of achieving that goal. The secondary goal is getting intel on a bears location.

Intel
Thus far, not much to go on. The High Roads do not appear to have a lot of sign in them. But could be checked out again at a slower pace or in different locations to confirm. Predator Alley has no current sign that I can see, but as of one month ago had a bear that seems to roll through to “adjust” my cameras around 0900 +-1hr. This might be the best thing to go off of. I think the bears are eating fawns right now. The berries are about a week or 2 from being ready at this elevation. Things are still quite hot so I imagine shade and water are the top priorities at the moment.

Hunt Plan
Until further intel can be acquired, Predator Alley is the most recent intel source I have to work with. As such the plan is as follows. Leave with Jillian at 0500 in order to get there by 0530. We will wait until twilight allows us to see comfortably. At this time we will proceed up the ridgeline above Predator Alley very slowly. We are looking for sign, and overwatch to predator alley. When a decent overwatch position is found, we will post up and watch the trail quietly (might want to be prepared for calling if that is an option) for activity through 1000. At this point we will return to the vehicle and attempt small scouting trips into water rich areas on the way home (starting with taking a look at the creek below the parking area to see if there is any water. If Predator Alley is occupied at arrival, trip will turn into a scout around Dutchman.

Weather outlook & Sunrise/Sunset Info
Sunny, with a high near 92. Not much variation from that. This is a “cool” day compared to recent weather.

Sunrise is at 0608.

Operational Limitations.
Range loading and hit points have been confirmed to allow for a good understanding of the bullet path. Chrono numbers have been logged and dope sheet created. Range Cap at this point with the weapon is 300 yards with current loading. Accuracy cannot be assured within acceptable limits beyond that.

Jillian is backup, and she is uncomfortable with any nighttime scenario. Also not up to date on lethal control, but is trained with bear spray. Lethal control falls to me.





Pre-Hunt Logistics
Pre-chill Cooler. Clean cooler.

Clean water bladder.

Get a few trashbags in the pack.

Set up hunting pack with full kit night of.

Check fuel in truck.

Meal Plan. Granola, epic bars, brownies and lots of water.

Check Weather Forecast

Coordinate time, and gear with partner.

Gear List
  • ON me
  • Rifle & Ammo
  • First Aid kit with water purifier
  • Water (2-3 liters depending on heat)
  • Bino’s, Rangefinder, Tripod
  • Mouthblown deer call, and moutblown turkey call.
  • License & Tags
  • 2lbs of snacks
  • 3 game bags
  • Skinning knife & Sharpening Stone
  • Headlamp
  • Multitool
  • Jacket, Gloves
  • Orange Paracord
  • Lens Wipe
  • Shooting bag
  • Trekking poles
  • Tarp
  • Toiletries
  • Orange bandana
  • Compass and mirror
  • In Truck
  • Cooler with ice
  • Climbing Gear
  • Electronic Call Setup
  • Chainsaw
Recap
Fawns and does found on the slope north of predator alley with some bear skat (a few weeks old) found on the westernmost part of that ridge. Manzanita are ripeish and that seems to be what bears are eating. Wind is swirly garbage for the morning part of the hunt, so might require longer shot to be feasible if a shooting lane can even be found. Blackberries appear to be a week or at most two, from being ripe. No response noted to calling (except a pissed off doe). Ridge north of predator alley is a HARD push to get to the saddle, did not manage to get there due to vegetation barriers and time. There is a road on the north side of that slope and the northern side of the slope is more passable (less vegetation), but I think that an “easier” way of getting to the saddle location would be to use predator alley to haul ass directly south of the saddle location and hike straight up to it.

The entry side (west) with the logging road to the first meadow is devoid of sign save for some cub scat. I am writing that off till the berries are really ripe.
 
Ok. Rather than do several posts for the story. I think I am going to add the rest of the story to this thread in the comments. Here goes....

Eleven hours earlier I rolled out of bed more or less to stop the horrifying hip hop music coming from the alarm clock on the wife’s side of the bed. I had been awake for an hour anyway thinking about this hunt. My wife got up and made me coffee and breakfast (I married extremely well). I laced up my boots, took care of some last-minute details to get my gear together, and laid down in my back yard to enjoy a beautiful starlit sky backlit in nautical twilight. It gave me time to think about how I had come to this point.

Shortly thereafter, my hunting partner arrived, my wife wished me luck, we loaded up too much gear in the truck and struck out for an area that she and I had scouted several times. Because of our efforts I knew what the bears were up to. I just hoped that I could find the big one that slipped through my fingers this spring.

We had a few missed turns due to my lack of coffee and my partners speed on the road. After that things slowed into a normal pace. Slow dirt-roads, we had all the time in the world to get there. When we arrived at the spot, we decided not to leave the truck till shooting light arrived. I knew the bears were a lot closer to the road than most would have guessed. I wasn’t keen to run into one before we could do something about it.

A few minutes after shooting light, we stepped out of the vehicle loaded up our weapons. Dawson with his recurve and handgun, me with my rifle (Ruger GSR .308 topped with a Burris Scout in case you must know). My plan was to move slowly up a decommissioned logging road with the wind in our faces. For whatever reason, the bears would move in the morning on the creek bottom next to the road. Morning and evening these movements would be with the wind, exposing them to danger from a still hunter, or a well-placed ambush.

I’ve decided that it’s darn near impossible to move too slow when you are hunting. Once you have a destination in mind for where you want to go, your urge to get there becomes unbearable not to act on. Today, my goal was different, I just wanted to move slowly and quietly until the wind changed and messed up my chances. If a stalk or an ambush presented itself, we’d change tactics, but for now it was just a matter of 1 to 3 quiet steps at a time. As we got deeper into the road the sign continued to get heavier. This was the only area I knew that didn’t have cub scat somewhere, so I figured that there was a big boar somewhere in there forcing the sows to steer clear of the area.

After several slow hours of careful nothing, everything happened all at once. We heard a bear a hundred yards away in the creek bottom as we came across the freshest sign we had seen so far. That pile made me smile, that was my boy. The pile had likely been made last night, just outside of a berry patch that was not quite ready to eat yet. He was probably just checking the ripeness the same way I did when I came through.
 
I told Dawson when we discussed the hunt that range was not the issue. We’d easily get close to bears. Vegetation, on the other hand would be a big issue. I could see the understanding of that comment come across Dawson’s face as we closed in on the bear. Try as we might, and as close as we could get, we just could not see the animal. Finally, we found a bit of a gap, we waited there in the hopes that the bear would come through. It seemed like he might be working our way. Dawson, sitting a few feet from me whisper yelled “Holy !*#$ that is a big bear. I see him he’s a color phase”. I had just enough of a difference in view that I could not quite see the animal.

“How far is he?”

“I can’t see him anymore, about 55 yards. Want me to lip squeak?”

I looked at the wall of green 4 yards in front of my nose obscuring a bear 55 yards from me. “Nope”. While I was trying to form a plan to the end of not having a bear on top of me while trying to get a shot, my calculus got upended by another bear sounding off in the creek bottom. This one to our right, also out of sight. For a second or two the sounds of the two bears intermixed a bit. Not a fight, but the sounds got too close to really tell who was who. Then they split apart, one bear went back down the creek bottom we had come alongside at a decent pace. The other moved up the creek at an unhurried pace perhaps across the road and up the hill just around the bend where this would all be out of site.

Discussion time. Which bear to follow. I wanted to go after the bear that went uphill, because it seemed like the bigger bear to me. I can tell you now why I felt that way, but at the time it was just my gut. Dawson wanted to go back downstream after that bear thinking that was the bigger one. I yielded to his viewpoint given that he actually at least saw the big guy.

We moved a bit more quickly, but still quietly to what we had identified as a good ambush point earlier in the hunt. About half way there Dawson suggested “why not call from here?” I did a cursory glance of the area and liked the opening I saw. “Sure” why not, a half seconds glance is enough to size up a good point to call a bear out of thick brush. Anyone who has ever called to something has probably had the experience of sitting down, calling, and thinking “why in the hell did I set up here?”. Both Dawson and I had that feeling after a few seconds of lip squeaking. The wind had shifted out of our favor, and the gap I thought was good at the time suddenly seemed to shrink before my eyes. That said, you call, you are kinda committed for a bit. I gave the cut out sign to Dawson, who looked relieved, because he must have seen the same things I did when we sat down. We heard the bear. “Cool it’s a blondie”, yet again I didn’t get the spot. I just wanted to lay eyes on one this trip. As if that request had been heard, I saw the upper fifth of a silhouetted bear move through a gap in the trees about 75 yards away. Just enough to make out it’s shoulder and back, just enough to know it was a bear I was passing on (as though I would even get a shot). Dawson was too far away to hand my rifle over too (his recurve being the goal, but meat also matters), and the bear caught our wind anyway, hauling off up the mountain. We’d followed the wrong bear, and the wind no longer would allow us to approach it.
 
I was excited to finally have intentionally laid eyes on a bear, but that feeling was mixed with the frustration of yet again falling just shy of my goal. I needed a reset. “New plan, we are going to quietly work our way back to the truck. There is raspberry cake in that cooler, we are cutting that in half.” We’d eat that, hydrate and figure out something else to do during the midday doldrums.

As we were snacking at the truck. Dawson got an upset look on his face. “Oh son of a…”

“What?”

“Well I’m house sitting, and I just sort of rifled the cabinets for food. I grabbed this bag of jerky”

I noted the label as Newman’s Own and then noticed the specific labeling that this was dog jerky. Dawson’s mouth full of disgust along with his good humor about the situation is the sort of thing that makes him a good hunting partner.

“Want some?”

“not yet”

“Oh well” Dawson continued to munch dog treats. Later in the day I partook, either out of solidarity, or out of sheer hunger. They weren’t bad.

“Ya gotta eat like a bear if you wanna get a bear”
 
After our time at the truck I had an idea of what we were going to do. We were going to set up a *call/decoy in a different part of the drainage. I did not tell Dawson this at the time, but it was mostly so I could take a nap and come up with a serious plan for what we were going to do. That is exactly what we did. Now to be fair I kinda hoped a smaller bear would show up for Dawson, since he was less picky than me (and had enough going against him with that recurve). I think I saw a bear about 175 yards away during that call set. If I did, it was a cub. Hard to say, but it disappeared before I could really start to get a good idea of what it was. I did get my nap though.

“Ok, I have my plan” I announced. “We are going to go to the CORRECT ambush spot, good and early. We are going to set up the decoy and the caller while the wind sucks, and we are going to bump up the hill and wait for evening to come. We might call, or we might not, but we are waiting till dark”.

We made our way back to Predator Alley. “Let’s just haul ass this time, I want to give plenty of time for things to cool down”. I’d marked the ambush spot on my GPS earlier and went to retrieve it, “crap, it didn’t save”. “no biggie we’ll recognize it”. With that certain to be broken promise and the wind at our backs, we trundled down the Alley at a pretty solid clip. After making it darn near to the spot we had run into the big guy earlier in the day, I decided to sagely double check my gps for that waypoint. Yup, it was there, about a quarter mile from the truck. I confessed my idiocy to Dawson, “Well at least on the way back the wind will be in our face; lets go quiet just in case”. We worked our way back to the ambush spot taking about 3 times as long as it took to hike in.
 
“Ok” I said, kinda surprised, but he was right “where do you want me to set up?”

“About five yards to your right”

I set up the caller and the decoy. Mr Wigglebunny required a bit of harmonic dampening, so I stuffed some woodchips in the device to make it sound much better. It eliminated that tell-tale plastic thwop-thwop sound. I set the caller up in some brush and hooked the powered off remote to my belt*. My turn to haul myself up the hill. This whole time Dawson had been clearing brush from the ambush hide.

“It might not be big enough for both of us”

I am a nice guy generally, but I spent a long time being very blunt with people every day for a living. I gave Dawson a look that said, “both of us was part of the job requirement.” What I actually said was “It’s fine, I’ll find my own, just wanted to be able to hand you the rifle if I passed”. He got the drift quick and made a bit more room. I have to hand it to him; he picked a kick ass hide. We checked our fields of fire, ranges and generally got settled in.

While setting up, I noticed a few branches that were cutting off my field of fire a bit more than I would like. I endeavored to get them moved out of the way. I was about to say “that’s better” having accomplished the task, but I was instead interrupted by the sound of a dying rodent. I realized my caller had turned on and I quickly scrambled to shut it down. With all the wind, the screwups, and the noise we had just made, I really did not think more of it.

Of course, 30 seconds later, I was looking at a giant bear. Some memories burn deeply into your mind. That bear was just there, the whole thing, broadside, beautiful, and huge. No creeping understanding that he was approaching, no interlude of seeing fur through the thick. Just a whole bear as though by magic had appeared in the second I had looked down to check my rifle. I had not even put my ears on yet (can’t wait for my suppressor by the way).

“Holy $%^& a bear”

Dawson almost told me to not screw with him. But he saw the bear drift behind cover.

“That’s your bear, hit the caller”

I did. And from that point forward the bear had his face in my general direction.

“That’s a big bear; shoot it in the head"

*Oregon’s regulations on electronic decoys/calls are a bit poorly worded. They almost make it sound like you have to pretend you are hunting coyotes, but you can take a bear with them if you have a tag. I called ODFW up on this to clarify. E-caller and E-decoys are OK for predators (including bears). When in doubt, call ODFW and ask, they are helpful l people who do a great job protecting what we love
 
That brings us to where we started this story. Those moments are in my mind forever. I never did get my hearing protection on (a point my wife will rightly remind me of for time immemorial; it’s nice to be cared for). I settled into my rifle, on the bear, looking at his massive shoulder blocking his vitals. I could likely plow through them, but why risk it? He was downwind of the caller and the decoy at this point. This was the time, I moved the crosshairs onto his head, picked my spot, and squeezed the trigger.

I could not hear it, but Dawson said that the sound of the bear falling off his berm was almost as loud as the gun shot. Watching the bears feet move, I had zero doubt that I would not need the second round I had chambered. I threw the safety on and lost my mind. I am embarrassed to admit how manic my joy was, but this bear had represented so much hard work, and emotional fortitude, that it was impossible not to express the euphoria of that release. In my case, quite loudly, until Dawson reminded me that he had a tag too and that another bear could come in. I calmed down, and waited for as long as I could to make sure the bear stayed put.

Walking up on this bear I could not get over how impressed I was by the animal. His head was massive. So massive you could hardly tell it had a 168 grain Accubond run through it. While the head was massive, easily the width of my chest, it was the paws that drew me in. I could not stop looking at them, touching them, or thinking about them. I still can’t. Those paws had mileage, power, and they were still soft. Putting my hand against them made me feel like I was touching the whole forest. This bear was the king of this area for a while. I’d personally witnessed other bears seeing him and running for their lives. Later, when butchering this bear, I found a bullet; not mine, It likely came from somewhere near the spine (I was cutting for grind when I found it). Initially I thought it was a personal defense round from a handgun, later when I did some research it turned out to be a .308, but not mine. The bear had a story to tell, but I will only ever have a fraction of it.

Bears are a significant animal and deserve to be respected, the fact that their tags are cheaper than a turkey tag honestly disgusts me. I intend to go to some length to change that. The bears deserve it. But let’s get back to our story.
 
I normally say that when it comes to hunting my expertise is after the animal hits the ground. This bear rocked that assumption a bit. First off, it was way more massive than what I expected to get. I’m a farmer used to moving heavy things by hand, and Dawson is young with the physique of a body builder. Dawson and I could not budge the bear out of place with all our might. We were forced to skin it in place a process made more difficult than I am used to since I wanted to retain the hide for a rug. Second, was the fact that the bear hung up against a pine tree that had dropped all its needles. Keeping the meat free of those was next to impossible. Last but not least, other bears kept swinging by to check us out. Even though I dropped the hammer on my bear at 4:38, Dawson and I loosely agreed that this bear was going to take us all day to process and get back to the truck. So we loosely agreed that he would not be taking a second bear.

I have taken a heck of a lot of animals apart in the kitchen. I can skin a pigs foot faster than most. This field butcher kicked my butt. I found humility in that, and I also loved knowing that I still have things to learn. Dawson, for all the crap I have given him in this story was a champion. I stupidly did not bring enough game bags (2 game bags, each large enough to fit a good sized whole blacktail). He shouldered the crushing load of both front legs, and both rear legs in one pack out. This, so he could drop them in the cooler and come back with fresh bags while I finished up the carcass and skinning job. I could not convince him to just take a few trips.
 
He got 20 yards away from me before one of the bags slipped from his pack to the ground. If you have ever been truly tired and then faced a simple problem, you know the feeling of your brain just refusing to help you solve it. Dawson’s brain had broken, I watched him stare at his pack for several minutes before he finally figured out how to re-lash the slipped bag to it and trudge off.

Alone, I got investigated by a bear from behind. I also had the distinct early-hominid impression that there was a cat watching me from above. I made a fair amount of noise. Cussing, which came easy at this point, likely staved off an encounter.

Dawson returned, and borrowed my rifle to pursue a cat he saw. He returned to inform me that another bear was working its way towards us. With the light fading we packed up the load and made plans to get the heck out of there while we could still see.

“You are just packing that hide, that’ll be plenty for you.” Dawson was right about that. Note to self: Dawson is my favorite packer and I owe him some killer meals. Working my way out in the dark, barely able to see with a bear closing in behind us, I took strange comfort in knowing that I had the king of the hill watching my back.
 
Back in the comfort of my own home. I can now reflect on what this hunt meant to me. The word I keep coming back to is Gratitude. I could say I got a bear, in fact I could say “I got the bear I was looking for”. That would be technically accurate, but existentially wrong. The list of names I would have to rattle off for who helped me get this bear is as long as a typical Oscar acceptance speech. I’m bound to miss someone but let me just name a few.

Lance-Your generosity with your knowledge has astounded me. You put in the time and gave up a killer spot. Hope you down a heavy elk this year so I can repay a bit of your kindness with some backbreaking labor. Take care of yourself so we can do that this fall.

Dawson-You have superhuman shoulders and good instincts. We need to get you in recurve range again. Osso Bucco is also in your future.

Shane-Always willing to go on a hairbrained hike with me. Even for something as simple as a jackrabbit. Heal up.

Jillian-Last but not even close to least. You took the time to support me in this like no one else would. Even though it scared the hell out of you, you not only backed my decision, you went out there with me. Without your help and your exceedingly perceptive eyes and ears (I married so flipping well) I never would have been able to pattern these bears well enough to be in the position I was for success. When I go hunting with you, I feel like I am hunting with one of the few natural talents out there, you pick up on everything you are shown so darn fast that it makes me work harder just to try to stay relevant to your skillset. Can’t wait to go on more hunts with you; I’ll try to have our next turkey hunt be less of a fiasco.

There are more people who lent me their time and expertise, but there are simply too many to list individually. Some helped a little, others helped a lot, but in no sense can I say that this accomplishment is solely my own. As I expressed this to Jillian, I asked her “How the hell can I ever pay so much back?”. Her words ring in my ears.

“You can’t. Generosity like that is a debt that must be paid to someone else or it isn’t generosity at all. You need to share the meat with those around you. Support your community. Take someone learning the ropes hunting. And fight for the bears you love along with their habitat. Maybe that’ll help with the debt you owe; you have to try”

I will.
 
You seem like a pretty Portlandy guy, RG.
Regardless of that, congrats on the bear.
That was a fun read, sounds like you guys had a blast. 👍
Cook him into anything cool yet?
Any food porn headed our way?
Bears are a significant animal and deserve to be respected, the fact that their tags are cheaper than a turkey tag honestly disgusts me. I intend to go to some length to change that. The bears deserve it. But let’s get back to our story.
Meh.
But the elk and deer tags are so expensive.
 

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