My bear season kind of ended with a bang last night. I don't know how many days I've spent bear hunting this year between spring and fall, but to say I put in my hours would be an understatement, and I had still yet to get a crack at a big boar.
The plan originally was to go elk hunting in the AM, but my mangina was a little sore, and I ended up staying home and warm until mid-day. I talked the wife into tagging along on a quick afternoon/evening outing to glass for bears and maybe pick up a grouse or two for the crockpot.
I was very surprised when we spotted a big black bear first thing when we arrived at the hunting area. He was way up in the avalanche chutes and rocky ridges, flipping rocks out in the open. I got a little exercise and took in some awesome views, but never could turn him back up after our first sighting of him.
I figured I'd better not leave my wife sleeping in the truck for too long, and headed back down with a couple hours of light left.
We were cruising down the road heading to another area to glass, when we came around the corner and drove right up on a big bear sitting on his butt drinking water out of a road cut waterfall.
A bunch of four letter words and scrambling ended with the bear bailing up the rocky, overgrown draw. I assumed he was headed for the next county, but figured I'd better give it the old college try anyway.
I went back down the road a ways, and climbed up the ridgeline thinking I might be able to get above the creek and catch him going up the other side. It took me probably a half hour to get up the steep hill and pop over, and I was blown away when I was way above the bear, he had maybe gone 70-90 yards from the road, sat down, and started eating berries again.
He was oblivious to me, and I got to about 40-50 yards before shooting him the first time. Things got very intense at this point. The bear still had no idea I was there, but his escape route happened to be the trail I was standing on. He made up the ground fast, and I was able to put another in him at about ten yards, right as he was coming under a big fallen log. At this shot, he decided his best bet was to climb a pine tree, and the finishing shot was when he was about 30 feet up in the air. All three shots would have done it for him, and my wife says they were all within about ten seconds. My heart rate was up to say the least.
Here's a picture from right after it all went down.
At first I was worried my new rifle/bullet choice wasn't smart, but the biopsy showed he was a dead bear the whole time, he just didn't know it yet.
I took a half hour to go back to the truck, recruit help and calm my nerves before going down to the bear. When we made it back up to him I was very pleasantly surprised at what he was. By far my biggest, a very healthy boar, and a gorgeous chocolate coat on him.
The only down side for me was how poorly the pictures turned out. There was really waning light, my wife and I couldn't move him around whole, and he kind of died in a brush pile. Oh well.
The plan originally was to go elk hunting in the AM, but my mangina was a little sore, and I ended up staying home and warm until mid-day. I talked the wife into tagging along on a quick afternoon/evening outing to glass for bears and maybe pick up a grouse or two for the crockpot.
I was very surprised when we spotted a big black bear first thing when we arrived at the hunting area. He was way up in the avalanche chutes and rocky ridges, flipping rocks out in the open. I got a little exercise and took in some awesome views, but never could turn him back up after our first sighting of him.
I figured I'd better not leave my wife sleeping in the truck for too long, and headed back down with a couple hours of light left.
We were cruising down the road heading to another area to glass, when we came around the corner and drove right up on a big bear sitting on his butt drinking water out of a road cut waterfall.
A bunch of four letter words and scrambling ended with the bear bailing up the rocky, overgrown draw. I assumed he was headed for the next county, but figured I'd better give it the old college try anyway.
I went back down the road a ways, and climbed up the ridgeline thinking I might be able to get above the creek and catch him going up the other side. It took me probably a half hour to get up the steep hill and pop over, and I was blown away when I was way above the bear, he had maybe gone 70-90 yards from the road, sat down, and started eating berries again.
He was oblivious to me, and I got to about 40-50 yards before shooting him the first time. Things got very intense at this point. The bear still had no idea I was there, but his escape route happened to be the trail I was standing on. He made up the ground fast, and I was able to put another in him at about ten yards, right as he was coming under a big fallen log. At this shot, he decided his best bet was to climb a pine tree, and the finishing shot was when he was about 30 feet up in the air. All three shots would have done it for him, and my wife says they were all within about ten seconds. My heart rate was up to say the least.
Here's a picture from right after it all went down.
At first I was worried my new rifle/bullet choice wasn't smart, but the biopsy showed he was a dead bear the whole time, he just didn't know it yet.
I took a half hour to go back to the truck, recruit help and calm my nerves before going down to the bear. When we made it back up to him I was very pleasantly surprised at what he was. By far my biggest, a very healthy boar, and a gorgeous chocolate coat on him.
The only down side for me was how poorly the pictures turned out. There was really waning light, my wife and I couldn't move him around whole, and he kind of died in a brush pile. Oh well.
