Gut Shot
Well-known member
My wife and I went to West Virginia for the early season hoping to get her a bear. Things didn't work out. It was warm, several little bears were treed and the only big bear made it to private ground before he treed. Still, it was an enjoyable trip and we got to catch up with friends that we don't get to see often enough.
The trip wasn't completely fruitless as I found a couple of these giant puffballs. Most of the people there hadn't eaten them before so we served them up sautéed in butter and garlic .
Hunting wasn't great the rest of the fall. I wounded a deer with the bow and never found him. Pheasants around here are few and far between this year and I haven't been out after goose at all. So, as December approached and work picked up I had a decision to make. I could chain myself to the bench and hammer out jewelry which would leave me with a pocket full of money. Or I could be irresponsible, head back to West Virginia, and make some memories. I figure there's a thousand ways to make money and as I age money becomes less and less important. I'd rather fill my remaining years with a little adventure. So, I skipped out for a few days. My wife had to travel for her job so she couldn't come along.
I arrived the night before the late season opener. Opening day started slowly. Hounds were picking up scent but nothing panned out until later in the morning.
A guy from Missouri, who had never been bear hunting before, knocked a boar out of a tree. About the time that one was sorted out another chase was going. That chase turned into two chases when the initial bear crossed paths with another. The first bear crossed the blacktop and was running up and down a creek before he finally treed.
We figured he was a bit small so we let him go. Trying to get two dogs out and I fell into the creek up to my knees. I was glad to see that I wasn't the only one. Back in the truck we went to find the other bear which was also showing treed.
I jumped off a ridge with another guy, Wyatt. We were trailed by a few kids ranging in age from about 8 to 16. We half slid down the hill, crossed a logging road and dropped off again. Once close enough we could see that the bear wasn't treed but had backed into a cave up in the rocks. Four hounds kept him in place as we approached. The younger kids were told to stand back, the bears can be unpredictable when they tear out of a cave. About the time we got under the cave three of the hounds came down to see us. The one dog that stayed up didn't seem that interested in the bear and stood with his back to the cave until he came down to see us too.
Now was the delicate part of the whole thing. You can't shoot bears in holes (understandably) and the next move was his. We could see the bear moving and it eventually stuck its head out to make sure the coast was clear. Seeing the dogs distracted it decided to make a run for it. It came boiling out of the cave and headed up over the rocks. The rifle came to shoulder, I'd practiced this a thousand times. Both eyes open, my cheek hit the stock, the scope's reticle at 1x found the head. There was no careful squeeze of the trigger, I yanked on that thing. At the same time my rifle went off Wyatt's 44 popped. The bear was sliding down the hill and I put another between her shoulders for good measure.
She weighed around 160lbs. This sow had actually been in hibernation and decided to come out to enjoy the warm weather, her colon was plugged and intestines were empty. The folks I hunt with say it's very common for the bears to start hibernation once or twice before really settling in for the winter. This one was carrying twins as well (the reproductive tract was pulled and sent to the DNR for research).
As luck would have it there was a logging road thirty yards from where this bear fell so getting out was a breeze.
The next day was more of the same. Started running a couple of bears that wouldn't tree. The chase went on long enough we kind of figured that the bears were bumping other bears and confusing the dogs. Until late in the morning when all the dogs were running on two different chases and the bears crossed the same road at the same time. It was mad chaos when we arrived. Somehow the bears made it past us and two packs of hounds collided. All we could do was grab dogs and chain them up. It was the same place that the small bear treed the day before. This time I didn't fall into the creek. Once the dogs were chained and everything settled down we figured out which hounds were still loose and chasing.
One bunch was treed and I hiked in with seven other guys to see the bear. It was a six hundred yard hike and the bear was small so we let it go. I think I get as much enjoyment out of watching them run off as I do shooting them. As we were gathering up hounds to head out a call came over the radio that one guy's prize stud dog was badly injured so he took off.
Later I learned that his dog had been shot. The other bear wouldn't tree and was fighting the dogs in the laurel. When the guys got close enough they shot the bear. No one was sure how the dog got hit as it didn't appear to be in the line of fire. They were guessing it was a ricochet? They were using handguns and the bullet hit the neck and came out the shoulder. I'm sure the vet bill was expensive but no bones were hit and no organs were hit. The next morning the dog was up and eating.
Two days was all I could afford and the next morning when the crew went out hunting I headed home in the fog. I've stopped at this place a couple of times before but never saw the waterfall. It rained the night before and it was pouring over the edge this time.
The trip wasn't completely fruitless as I found a couple of these giant puffballs. Most of the people there hadn't eaten them before so we served them up sautéed in butter and garlic .
Hunting wasn't great the rest of the fall. I wounded a deer with the bow and never found him. Pheasants around here are few and far between this year and I haven't been out after goose at all. So, as December approached and work picked up I had a decision to make. I could chain myself to the bench and hammer out jewelry which would leave me with a pocket full of money. Or I could be irresponsible, head back to West Virginia, and make some memories. I figure there's a thousand ways to make money and as I age money becomes less and less important. I'd rather fill my remaining years with a little adventure. So, I skipped out for a few days. My wife had to travel for her job so she couldn't come along.
I arrived the night before the late season opener. Opening day started slowly. Hounds were picking up scent but nothing panned out until later in the morning.
A guy from Missouri, who had never been bear hunting before, knocked a boar out of a tree. About the time that one was sorted out another chase was going. That chase turned into two chases when the initial bear crossed paths with another. The first bear crossed the blacktop and was running up and down a creek before he finally treed.
We figured he was a bit small so we let him go. Trying to get two dogs out and I fell into the creek up to my knees. I was glad to see that I wasn't the only one. Back in the truck we went to find the other bear which was also showing treed.
I jumped off a ridge with another guy, Wyatt. We were trailed by a few kids ranging in age from about 8 to 16. We half slid down the hill, crossed a logging road and dropped off again. Once close enough we could see that the bear wasn't treed but had backed into a cave up in the rocks. Four hounds kept him in place as we approached. The younger kids were told to stand back, the bears can be unpredictable when they tear out of a cave. About the time we got under the cave three of the hounds came down to see us. The one dog that stayed up didn't seem that interested in the bear and stood with his back to the cave until he came down to see us too.
Now was the delicate part of the whole thing. You can't shoot bears in holes (understandably) and the next move was his. We could see the bear moving and it eventually stuck its head out to make sure the coast was clear. Seeing the dogs distracted it decided to make a run for it. It came boiling out of the cave and headed up over the rocks. The rifle came to shoulder, I'd practiced this a thousand times. Both eyes open, my cheek hit the stock, the scope's reticle at 1x found the head. There was no careful squeeze of the trigger, I yanked on that thing. At the same time my rifle went off Wyatt's 44 popped. The bear was sliding down the hill and I put another between her shoulders for good measure.
She weighed around 160lbs. This sow had actually been in hibernation and decided to come out to enjoy the warm weather, her colon was plugged and intestines were empty. The folks I hunt with say it's very common for the bears to start hibernation once or twice before really settling in for the winter. This one was carrying twins as well (the reproductive tract was pulled and sent to the DNR for research).
As luck would have it there was a logging road thirty yards from where this bear fell so getting out was a breeze.
The next day was more of the same. Started running a couple of bears that wouldn't tree. The chase went on long enough we kind of figured that the bears were bumping other bears and confusing the dogs. Until late in the morning when all the dogs were running on two different chases and the bears crossed the same road at the same time. It was mad chaos when we arrived. Somehow the bears made it past us and two packs of hounds collided. All we could do was grab dogs and chain them up. It was the same place that the small bear treed the day before. This time I didn't fall into the creek. Once the dogs were chained and everything settled down we figured out which hounds were still loose and chasing.
One bunch was treed and I hiked in with seven other guys to see the bear. It was a six hundred yard hike and the bear was small so we let it go. I think I get as much enjoyment out of watching them run off as I do shooting them. As we were gathering up hounds to head out a call came over the radio that one guy's prize stud dog was badly injured so he took off.
Later I learned that his dog had been shot. The other bear wouldn't tree and was fighting the dogs in the laurel. When the guys got close enough they shot the bear. No one was sure how the dog got hit as it didn't appear to be in the line of fire. They were guessing it was a ricochet? They were using handguns and the bullet hit the neck and came out the shoulder. I'm sure the vet bill was expensive but no bones were hit and no organs were hit. The next morning the dog was up and eating.
Two days was all I could afford and the next morning when the crew went out hunting I headed home in the fog. I've stopped at this place a couple of times before but never saw the waterfall. It rained the night before and it was pouring over the edge this time.
