The Wilds Day 2 - Riding the Rhino

I was up at my normal too-early time and tried to sleep a bit more, but it wasn't going to happen.  I'm not sure how SO puts up with me because I had to get up and make coffee.  Ah ... the yurt life.
As it got light we packed up our stuff.  We were hoping for a late checkout, but that wasn't possible so we had to find a way to get all of our motorcycle crap secured on the bike while we went on the tour.  This was made easier by the weather since it was between cool and cold - so I ended up wearing my motorcycle jeans instead of shorts.
We had even more down time after a good breakfast waiting for "The Wildside" tour.  The Wilds has many tours available, this one takes place in an open air truck with up to eight people.  The trucks will also go off-road to see the animals where as the bus tours stay on the road (and they're on a bus).
Our tour only had four people on it, which was something we all seemed happy about.  Eight would have been OK, but we may have had to be closer than kin...  The other two women on the tour were very friendly and we got along well, making room for each other's pictures and sharing access to the nearby animals.  It was a little funny that they lived not too far from us either.  Apparently multiple full trucks are more common, so I'll take the day's situation as a plus.

Kristen was our tour guide and she started by giving us some background and a few warnings.  Nothing was too surprising, but it did include warnings on some animals being aggressive.  The plan was to find animals, get as close as reasonably possible, and spend some time in each spot.  Kristen would sit in the roof of the truck since there is a no-feet-on-the-ground rule on tours.

Off we went in search of animals.  First up were some wild horses with more warnings on biting.  The steering wheel had a chunk taken out of it on a previous tour - 'nuff said.

Then it was on to some camels.  Up close they don't look as regal as they do from far away with their big lips hanging out and gangly demeanor.  We were allowed to pet them and I was surprise how firm the hump was since they look so floppy.

The beginning felt slow since horses and camels don't exactly seem toooo exotic, but maybe that is by design since things got better as the morning went on.  Next up were the Sichuan Takin.  These are the bulbous things that I thought were pretty cool looking.  I guess these are a Chinese National Treasure and are all "owned" by China.  However, they are doing better outside of China than in.  Two of these guys were getting frisky - which must be OK since they need to use contraception to limit the breeding (this is true of many of the animals).

There are American Bison on the property, but they are actually not strictly part of the wilds.  Far from endangered, these are raised for meat.  Still, neat to see.

From there we went to the carnivore area which is surprisingly small.  For (perhaps obvious) reasons, the carnivores are kept separate and in extra double fencing.  The cheetahs are pretty magnificent animals.

We had extra time at the carnivore area which allowed us to look around on our own.  It is probably also to give poor Kristen a break from all the questions which she probably gets from all of the guests.  While I'm sure every tour is different, I have to suspect it also gets painfully redundant for the guides.

I've always thought African Spotted Dogs are one of the neatest looking canines.  Being so close to them was really cool.  Their coloring almost looks fake.

I want to take one of these home - but I bet they are hard to house train...

Some of the animals stay hidden and whether they are out might be temperature dependent.  Shortly before we left the carnivore area we did get to see some young Dholes.

Back in the truck we were on the hunt for more animals.  I have to say that the Pere Davids Deer look regal from far away, less so up close.  Their back story is pretty interesting though.

Another regal-looking animal which is prone to biting is the zebra.  From even a short distance away, the stripe pattern blends into a camouflage grey.

Kristen moved the truck as the Ostrich came close.  Their head was high enough relative to the truck that she didn't want them too close to us.

We had another stop at the Rhino barn where they keep their male one-horned Rhino.  At first he was in the barn but as if on cue, he came out when Kristen shook a small bucket of sweet potatoes.  We got to feed him ... and get Rhino slobber all over our hands.

Feeding was also on the agenda at our next stop - whether we wanted to or not.  The Giraffe WILL BE FED!  I guess it really likes romaine lettuce.

While the one giraffe was pretty aggressive in wanting food, we were also able to entice another smaller one to eat as well.  The strength of such a svelte animal was pretty amazing.

A short distance away we came to a group of animals that included two-horned Rhinos.

Wild Scimitars.

And Bactrian Deer (which were showing rutting behavior and vocalization).  These deer were massively impressive both in antlers and body size.  I wonder what they do with all the shed antlers?

The Rhinos liked to use the truck as a scratching post and it was surprisingly OK for us to pet and scratch them.  Their skin is like armor.

As we made our way back out, we saw some young Eland.

The tour was much more interactive than I would have thought.  Getting to feed the rhino; being up close to an obnoxious giraffe; seeing spotted dogs and watching a cheetah lie down right in front of me.  And that might be my only criticism of the entire thing.  Or maybe it is a criticism of myself, of all of us - while unscripted and infinitely more natural than a zoo, the animals have little fear of humans.  Still, it was much more honest than a Cade's Cove version of nature.  And to be pragmatic, this is probably the only way to keep some of these animals alive and reproducing on the planet.  I'm sure doing so is massively expensive, and having tourists come through makes this possible only due to the interaction.  I can appreciate that on many levels while at the same time being a bit uncomfortable with it. 

"When experiences are sold, when scenery becomes commodity, places can morph into caricatures of themselves, obscuring context and meaning." - Sarah Gilman

I'm glad that places like The Wilds exist while being a bit sad about it at the same time.  Our goal for the natural world shouldn't be animals that are so divorced from it that they resemble their former selves in form only.  We risk seeing nature as a giant terrarium, instead of the unscripted and sometimes ugly wilds that it should be.

Day 2:  202.6 Miles

It took a few minutes to reorganize everything for the trip home.  The day which started out cold had started to grow warm.  We had at least a short amount of time to enjoy the Eastern Ohio roads before we hit the interstate.  Then it was goal driven - time to go home.

Traffic wasn't too bad and there wasn't much construction - which was nice.  As we passed over the Lost Lands Musical Festival, it looked much worse than the previous day.  Uggg...  You guys can have it.

As the relatively short trip home continued, the combination of wind and atypical heat made it feel longer than it was.  When this whole thing was originally planned, the worry was more that any rain could make the bike trip uncomfortable; as it was, a bit of rain might have been nice.

Soon enough we were home.  We unpacked and got the dogs.  Even though they were only gone one night it will take a day or three for them to get back to normal.

For a short adventure, it certainly felt longer than it was.  The spotted dogs were a highlight as was the ability to be up close and personal with the rhinoceros.
I'm still overdue for another long road trip, but I'm glad I got to experience a bunch more interesting Ohio for a few days.

The Wilds Day 1 - Historivia and a Yurt With Plumbing

I've already kvetched about the spring and summer of Day-In Day-Out, so I won't go over that again.
SO has gone on her Alaska trip.  I'm recently returned from my Bear Hunting Adventure.  Things are mostly caught up at work and at home.  A break may not be needed, but there is still vacation to burn and doing it now makes much more sense than sitting around pondering life's failures in December.
I usually average between 10,000 and 15,000 miles on my motorcycles per year.  The last couple years have been disappointing.  I'm overdue for a long road trip - this will not be it.  But after touring all over North America, we've spent surprisingly little time in the adopted home state of Ohio.

Day 1:  268.0 Miles

After a normal Wednesday, we had an abnormally light packing job for a single motorcycle overnight.  SO took the dogs to beagle jail in the morning, a few things were tidied up.  And we were off.  Temperatures were almost perfect in the mid-60s with mostly sunny skies.
We got through the tail end of greater Cincinnati traffic, before heading north and east.  I-71 wasn't too bad once a ways away.  We worked our way around Columbus before heading due east.
I was tired on being on the interstate, so I got off on Ohio-13.  This was a poor choice since the Lost Lands Music Festival was happening right near this exit and things were horribly backed up.  And oh my goodness were those people jam packed in some of the most uncomfortable looking camping conditions that I've ever seen.
I jumped right back on the interstate, getting off a short time later - let Garmin do his duty.  Garmin is sometimes stupid, so this was a bit risky.
Getting off the interstate for the rest of the day was 100% the right choice as was letting Garmin route me stupidly.  The area of Ohio I went through had motorcycle roads that rival just about anywhere else I've been.  Hills, twists and turns.  Some technical sections, many blind hills and off-camber turns.  Many straight stretches with higher speed sweeper turns.  Subtract from that almost all traffic and it made for a great late morning through early afternoon.

Our first stop for the day was the Morgan County dungeon.
Morgan County was created and incorporated between 1817 and 1819.  A little over 10 years later, I guess they needed a spot to house their criminals - those convicted of theft, murder and who knows what else.  Criminal justice in early frontier America was somewhat subjective, political and prejudiced against the poor.  Which means it was pretty much like it is today.  Of course by today's standards, most would have been considered poor since they didn't have cable TV and motorcycles to ride around to see arbitrary places of Americana.
A dungeon was dug into the ground around 1833.  Having previously toured several jails that were from a similar time period, I can say with some authority that a jail and a dungeon are not the same thing.  A dungeon brings up images of a dank hole were people were thrown in perpetuity, which is pretty much what the Morgan County Dungeon is.  Although I have no idea how long people were in there, even a short amount of time would have been brutal.  The thought of being in something like this - with or without a trial - seems pretty heinous; possibly cruel and certainly unusual - at least by today's standards.
This dungeon was hidden from view, literally buried, until it was exposed while building the present jail and sheriff's office.  The idea of burying this in the past seems like an allegory to hiding our own past mistakes - it wasn't destroyed, just tucked away under the surface, probably hoping that nobody would ever find it.  Thankfully they chose not to use it when it was dug up, and it now sits as a reminder that history is judged not by how the most privileged are treated, but by how the worst off are.

Maybe it doesn't.  The Dungeon is actually a recreation in a totally different spot with some other historic things nearby - most notably a relocated one-room school.  I was disappointed it wasn't the actual dungeon, but I guess that explains the plate steel roof the structure has.  But it was still worth a stop and put us on some nice roads.

Next up was the Big Muskie Bucket.
The Big Muskie was the largest single-bucket digging machine and was in service between 1969 to 1991.  It held about 220 cubic yards - which is a lot.  Back of the envelope calculations suggest it could hold about 100 Gold Wings.

When I was buying gravel to turn my old driveway from mud to muddy gravel, I was buying about 2 Bobcat scoops at a time which is about 1 cubic yard.  If I would have had a Big Muskie, I wouldn't have beat up my F150 quite as much.  Of course the Big Muskie had limited ability to move - and only very slowly, so the comparison isn't all that relevant.
When first put into service the Big Muskie was the pride of the Central Ohio Coal Company.  With all the coal it mined, it is perhaps odd that it was powered by electricity.  Maybe there is a lesson there?  And maybe electric power is both the past and the future.  All hail Zero Motorcycles!
It stayed in service far longer than I would have thought.  But EPA regulation on how coal is used coupled with how mining can be done finally made the Big Muskie lose the race against being cost effective.  Coal is still used for energy in the US and is still mined in Ohio, but we pretend it is done in a much more friendly manner.  Frankly, I don't see how anything can be more friendly than something called Big Muskie.
We talked with some other people visiting the Big Muskie.  One man even had an uncle who worked in the mine with it.  Almost more impressive than the bucket itself, was the chain used to maneuver it.

Our final quick stop for the afternoon was the Thorla/McKee oil well.
Around the time Morgan County was being incorporated, early settlers Silas Thorla and Bob McKee noticed deer licking the ground in a particular spot.  They hoped this was due to a natural salt deposit since salt isn't terribly prevalent in Ohio and their fried potatoes where lacking that little bit of something extra.  I can't help but wonder if their venison was lacking salt as well?  I can only hope they tried licking the ground themselves, but I suspect that isn't the case.
They did dig a 200 foot well - by hand which is pretty incredible since I can barely dig a hole deep enough to get to the failed drain tile in my back yard.  They did find salt (brine), but along with that was a "healthy" supply of crude oil.  I say healthy because McKee and Thorla decided it must be a good thing to market as a tonic for health.  In other words, they used the same logic health businesses use now, "It comes form nature, so it has to be good!"  CBD Oil for everybody - there is absolutely nothing it can't cure!!!  They bottled the crude oil and sold it as "Seneca Oil" because I guess "Snake Oil" was already being sold by two other guys.  Hopefully they got rich from both salt and Seneca Oil.  Sadly, McKee and Thorla were dead by the time the value of crude to propel motorcycles became known.
This oil well is often described as the first oil well in North America, since it was one of the first times oil was purposefully extracted from the ground for financial gain.  If nothing else, it is a very early extraction of oil from the ground for commercial purposes in North America.  Additionally, Silas Thorla has to be one of the coolest names ever.

The well itself is just a grubby, oily hole in the ground and it is a bit hard to find.  There is some other weird log contraption hooked up to it, but whatever it is supposed to be isn't clear.  It is an interesting piece of both North American and Ohio history.

After seeing a bit of Southeast Central Ohio Historivia (history combined with trivia), we headed to the ultimate destination of The Wilds.  The Wilds is a reclaimed strip mine turned animal sanctuary.  They offer places to stay and various tours.  A yurt and tour was scheduled for this trip which comes with food and a few other things.  I originally heard about The Wilds from Ohio Cooperative Living, the magazine from our electric coop.  I couldn't tell where on the spectrum from campy to cool this would be, but the chance to be up close and personal with rare animals was at least interesting.

We stopped at the gate and were told we could head up to the yurts.  At the "Concierge Yurt" we were given our key and some additional information.  The yurt itself was tucked into the trees.  There were other yurts with better views overlooking the water and possibly animals; I don't remember if they cost more... (yes, they do)

The yurt itself is pretty comfortable.  Like all nomadic yurts, it has electricity and modern plumbing and like the yurts of inner Kazakhstan, the open area at the top is conveniently covered with Lexan.  OK, so the whole yurt thing might be a little gimmicky, but it was kind of neat at the same time.  I did appreciate the air conditioning...
After settling in, we walked to the nearby overlook.  It was a bit of a poke to where the animals were, but we had binoculars with us that allowed to see them quite well.
I was pretty fond of the rhino and her (I assume) baby.

Many of the animals seemed to like the water.  With the ongoing near-drought conditions, I'm glad they have water.

I'm not sure what kind of antlered thing this is, but it was pretty cool.

We headed up to dinner and were the last ones seated even though it was early relative to our normal dinner time.  Looking around, I strongly suspect we brought the average age of the room down.  The geriatric generation was well represented.  This is good, the "school season" is the best time to travel.
Dinner was good and our waitress had an interesting tattoo.  I couldn't see the whole thing, so I finally asked her - it was a skull with a bear inside it with the words, "Bear In Mind" under it.  Cute...

We took our dessert to-go and walked back toward the yurt, stopping at the overlook again.  The sun started to go down and the shadows got long.  Temperatures dropped and the animals started coming out again as they will at dusk.  I was able to get a few more pictures before the light level dropped to make it impossible with the zoom lens.
I won't guess what kind of deer this is, but the antlers were impressive!  Maybe a Pere David's Deer?

The rhino came out again.  I still like the rhino.

But I think I like this bulbous guy even better.  Looking at list of what The Wilds have, I think it is a Sichuan Takin.  Sure ... whatever.

They were having a fire at the overlook and a small group was gathered around it.  I was a bit worried I'd get in a situation where, if I sat down, it would appear rude to leave.  So we headed back to the yurt and wished they were a little more sound-proof.  Not because the four-legged animals were noisy, but the two-legged ones were.  I guess some yurt-dwellers are a bit hard of hearing too.  Such is the glamping life.

Eventually we turned in for the night.  No, it wasn't a day pouring on the miles on the bike, but it was a day of good weather, great roads, interesting sights and lots of unusual animals.

2019 Bear Hunt Day 9 and 10 - Driving Home

My alarm went off early.  At home, I routinely wake up about 5-10 minutes before the alarm, so it made the morning feel even earlier.  I didn't dare drink coffee - I tend to do road trips in a state of mild dehydration to avoid stopping as much as possible.  I finished packing before heading over to the freezer to get my bear.
Once packed up, I was on the road.  Temperatures were below freezing and hovered there through the morning.  There was some fog which I pushed through a bit more than I should; traffic was non-existent, but I'm well aware it only takes an instant for bad to happen.  I slowed down.  At one point a large owl flew across the road directly in front of me.
The GPS was trying to route me in a stupid way that only Garmin can.  I was planning on crossing the border at Warroad, MN again.
I again needed to remind myself to slow down on the stretch of gravel road; I am sometimes thankful for things like traction control and wiz-bang AWD.

Much like my first morning on this adventure, I saw a pretty stunning sunrise near the Canada/US border. The picture doesn't do it justice as it almost looked like fire in the sky.

I only saw two border patrol people when I crossed in the US.  They nearly waved me through without anything else, but almost as an afterthought had me come in a fill out paperwork for my bear.  It took only a few minutes and I was on my way again.
I saw a bald eagle fighting with a group of ravens to eat the odoriferous carcass of a dead skunk - I'll leave any political interpretations of that to others.  Bald eagles are, in fact, just birds.
I was listening to A Woman in Berlin by Anonymous.  The author is well known at this point, but that is the way it is published.  This was yet another tragic tale from WWII.  The book is perhaps justifiably about misandry, but the blindness of the author to the horrors the Germans committed during the war had me raising one eyebrow at the radio a few times.  I guess that is what I did end up liking about it - it was a near stream of consciousness missive about the brief occupation of Berlin.  With only light editing, it probably paints an almost too realistic picture, without any attempt to be objective.

I continued south and east.  At two points spotted fawns ran out in front of me - the first while I was being tailgated by some joker (with almost infinite opportunity to pass).  It seems late in the year for deer to still have spots?
Temperatures were starting to warm; the North scenery was gorgeous.  I was enjoying the drive.  Even US-2 wasn't too bad.  There weren't any caravans of evil, plodding motorhomes.
I pushed the fuel in the Ridgeline much farther than I was comfortable with.  Indicated miles left were terrifying before pulling into a local gas station.  The bored clerk was friendly and I talked to her for a minute when she asked why I was in Canada.

Once on the interstate, the trip became more brainless.  I got gas again near my sister's house before heading there for the night.  Things there seemed to be good.  The menagerie of animals is always a hoot.  We grazed on some food while watching a few episodes of Ozark; I've slowly seen a few episodes of this at her house and there are too many characters to keep track of.  But it is still a good show.
My sister's dog Olive slept in the bed with me which was a bit odd - she takes up a ton of room.  But I slept well enough.

We talked a bit more before heading out again in the morning for the final leg home.  Again, this was all brainless interstate.  I didn't feel like listening to podcasts so I relistened to American Fire by Monica Hesse.  Much like The Billionaire's Vinegar, I could see this being one I listen to a few more times.
Driving went really well until I got on the 2-lane roads near home.  I got behind the mother-of-all wide load trucks.  This would normally be frustrating but it approached exasperating when I was so close to home after driving so far, made worse by the escort vehicle coming to a complete stop every once in a while for incomprehensible reasons.  The jack-wad in the bright yellow Corvette in front of me was paying attention to everything but driving and would also stop for no reason.  Once into a small Indiana city near the border I took side streets around the wide load finally making it home.

Once at home, the real work started.  I unpacked as much as I could before dealing with a cooler full of bear meat.  I'm not too fond of bear fat, so it takes more time to prepare meat for grinding.  I lose a bit more than I would like, but the result is much better.  Grinding the meat takes forever since bear is so tough, rubbery and sinewy.  My original plan was to save both front shoulders for smoking, but one had enough bullet damage that I kept most of it for grinding.  I'm also positive some of the meat got mixed up since the two shoulders I had were vastly different in size; no real big deal since all animals were treated the same and came from the same day.  With five bears down that night, including mine, it can be a bit of a chaotic mess.

It was another late night, fitting for an end to a bear hunt where eating and sleeping routines get thrown out the window.
The start of this adventure seems like a long time ago.  I love being outdoors, hunting and fishing.  Much of what I got to see over the last week was pretty amazing.  The image of the bears swimming across the river seems magically imprinted in my memory (at least for the time being).  Hanging out with some interesting people is fun as well.
There are more adventures coming up over the coming weeks, months and years.  With that in mind, the routine will be enough once I get caught up to the reality at home which will have to do.  In fact, that is pretty good.

2019 Bear Hunt Day 8 - A Final Good (If Slow) Day of Fishing

Despite the neighbor's attempt to ruin my sleep, some ear plugs helped me sleep relatively well.
I woke up to the coldest morning of the trip - meaning the coldest morning since spring for me.  Fall really is coming.

Everyone met for breakfast at the usual time.  Gil, James and George were heading out immediately after eating as were Brian and Kathy.  We said goodbyes and joked a bit.  It has been a good group to hunt and fish with.

Carter took Kim, Brady and I fishing.  We, again, went way up river to go after pike.

On the way upriver, we saw something moving across the water.  As we got closer, we saw it was a mama bear and two cubs.  I was quite impressed with how well they could swim, especially with the current.

Once they reached the bank, they high-tailed it into the brush - this was right by Kendall so I could only assume they were headed there for acorns and wild plums.  I wonder if wild plums have laxative properties for bears as well?  Almost certainly...

At our first fishing spot, we spotted a beaver dragging a stick across the bay to its dam.  I'm not quite sure why it had to get that particular branch, since the area around the damn was thick with all manner of trees.  But perhaps beavers are pickier than they look.  Or maybe there was something really special about this tree that only a beaver can understand.

The morning was a bit slow, with a few small pike brought in.  Carter fished some as well, but due to either luck or skill, he brought in the only monster at 39.5 inches.  My biggest pike ever was 39 inches so I was hoping to break the 40-inch mark.  It wasn't to be.
I brought in one decent fish at 31 inches.  Even though it wasn't the biggest fish of the trip, it did fight relatively hard.  And with the dead slow pike fishing, it was a good fish to catch.

But the slow morning also meant it was actually a bit tough to bring in enough fish for lunch.  The two big ones were too big and most of the others were too small.  Finally we caught one decent lunch pike to go along with Kim's walleyes caught while jigging.

Lunch was once again great with fish and fries.  We shored on a small island with a channel next to it.  The channel had water flowing at a very high rate.  I tried to fish the channel, but more than anything it looked like a good place to snag on rocks.  We didn't bring wood or propane so we foraged for wood for the fire; it was almost hard to find enough dry, dead wood to cook all the food.  But we managed.

Fishing after lunch wasn't much better.  We did catch a few fish and I had some good bites.  But getting the fish to commit was difficult.  On several occasions I had smallmouths on the line, but they spit the lures.  Stupid fish...
Still, it was a fun day.  There was lots of camaraderie and joking.  I hadn't gotten to know Kim or Brady too well so that added to the enjoyment.
In addition to bears, beavers, pike, walleye, and smallmouths, we also got to see several more eagles.  Again, not the best picture, but about as good as can be hoped for with a waterproof point and shoot camera.

Dinner that night was more subdued with only a few of us left in camp.  Vance ate with us and we talked a bit about hunting, travel and life.  Kim and Brady left to head to Winnipeg.  I talked with everyone a short while before I decided I wanted to test fit my bear hide and meat in my coolers.  It was a good thing I did this since I had to cut down one front shoulder to make everything fit.
Then it was packing up and turning in for the first leg of the drive home.

2019 Bear Hunt Day 7 - A Day of Consistent Fish

After my introverted evening, I woke up feeling great.  Well, sort of - my right leg was killing me, but turning in early was definitely the right thing to do.

After another great breakfast, Dave took Kim, Brady, Kathy, Brian and I out in the big boat.  Whitney was leaving, so it was a slow start in the boat - too slow.  But waiting is part of life.  Even if it is a painful part when there are fish to catch...
Once underway, we went upriver to fish.  We saw more eagles on the way up river; we saw them many times through the day.  The picture below isn't too good, but this bald eagle has been sitting there almost every morning I've been past this spot.

We went way upriver and started to fish.  I think Dave originally intended most of us to jig for walleye with only a few casters, but pike seemed to be what everyone was after - especially me.  Actually Kathy really wanted a big pike as well as so far she hadn't caught anything too sizable yet.
We fished around several spots and even went above Eagles Nest.  I started in my favorite location in the bow of the boat.  But with Kathy and Brian up there it wasn't working very well.  I ended up going to the roof.  I lose a few yards of fishing right by the boat (where pike often hit) when on the roof, but I could cast farther and I could pretty much fish in any direction - so it was probably a net positive.
Fishing wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great either.  There were enough catches to keep everything interesting, but not much more than that.
But the quality of fish was really good.  Many pike were brought in the boat in the 30 to 35 inch range.  Brady even had a really huge monster on at one point; it ended up breaking his line.  Dave said the way it was acting was like a heavy 40+ incher.  Even if that wasn't the case, it was a big fish.
We also hit a few pockets of smallmouth bass.  I brought in one that was almost 17 inches and again football fat.

We met the other boat of Derrick, Gil, George and James for lunch at the shelter.  It was a good time and the food was really good again.  Dave did battered fish this time which was probably the best fish I've had during the week.

After lunch we went out again for more pike fishing.  Temperatures had warmed considerably through the day and the wind, which was strong all day, became more gusty.  But that didn't hurt the fishing as I think the afternoon was actually a bit better than earlier in the day.  Again, the boat brought in a consistent level of fish with several above 30 inches.  I even brought in my first walleye of the week on a fairly large spoon.  At one point I laughed when Kathy declined to take a picture with a pike she caught, "It is only a 30 inch fish."  This from someone who only a few hours earlier was itching to bring in anything that big.

I still have one day to go, but the afternoon was probably the best fishing to that point.

All good things must come to an end and we headed back downriver to the lodge.  I'm looking forward to one more day of fishing, but am getting ready to go home.  I test-fit my bear in my coolers, which was a good thing since the hide didn't fit as well as I had hoped.  Vance helped make it fit though.

Dinner was taking on a different mood.  People were getting ready to pack up and head out; there would only be a few of us left the following day.

2019 Bear Hunt Day 6 - Good Morning Fishing (Afternoon Not So Much)

The late nights and odd hours were catching up with me.  Yes, routine can be tedious and I left home kvetching about the months of sameness, the need for a break.  But eating a huge dinner late at night and falling right into bed isn't something I'm programmed for.
I woke up later than normal and fitfully tossed and turned for a bit before getting up for coffee.  I'll "suffer" through the unusual hours for bears and pike.  In the realm of problems, my Canadian world was filled with good ones - I was having a blast.

After a breakfast of french toast, we all saddled up to head out on the water again.
Derrick took George and I out.  We started out at Lamprey Bay where the action was good.  Quality of fish were a bit small overall, but the quantity was better than we'd had.  But not all the fish were small.  George hooked into a really nice pike, landing a fish just under 39 inches.  This was his biggest fish caught yet.

We moved around a few times to fish other spots.  Action through the morning remained good.  The best fish I caught was a nice smallmouth bass measuring between 15 and 16 inches.  Even though not a real long fish, it had an almost football-like fatness.

George even hooked into another good one at just under 36 inches.  I'm not sure what he was doing differently than me - or if it was just luck.  The second big pike wasn't as lucky though since it bore scars of tangling with something - Derrick surmised it was from an otter.  It had also lost an eye at some point, with one ghostly, clouded eye staring right through us.

The group met for lunch at Kendall Point.  I'm always surprised that these cabins aren't used  more.  My guess is they are more occupied on weekends and/or during the summer.  The view from Kendall is stunning, often called one of the prettiest spots on the river.
There are numerous wild plum trees on the property.  I had never seen these before, but they tasted good.  Bears love them and there was evidence of bears coming in as well.  No doubt this sometimes is a bit unnerving to people staying there.  Apparently wild plums also work as wild laxatives.  Despite the fact that they were much tastier than I had thought they would be, I stopped eating them when I heard that.

Lunch was great with more of Derrick's moose sausage, fries, fish, stuff jalapenos.  Everything that is needed for a Canadian shore lunch.  I ate too much, but that has been the norm on this trip.

Fishing after lunch, for whatever reason, slowed down.  A lot.  We had only the odd bite and brought in a few into the boat.  We still had fun, trying a few different techniques and lures.  In one particularly weedy area that looked really pikey, I tried a buzz bait which is a lure I've never really had success with.  I did get a top strike on it which I'll call a success even though the fish wasn't brought into the boat - both because of my past history with them and the painfully slow fishing.
At one point it started to rain and boats from all over started heading in.  We stayed out and fished some more, before finally admitting defeat.

It is interesting that on some days, it seems all one needs to do is throw a lure anywhere into the water and be able to catch pike.  Then there are days like this one where nothing seems to be biting anything.  At all.  So it goes.

Dinner was steaks grilled with mushrooms, which were excellent.  We ate in two shifts since Brady was still hunting.  Around the time the first dinner was wrapping up, we heard the boat come in.  Brady had shot his black bear - which means every hunter in camp tagged out with time to spare!  This was Brady's first bear and he was quite happy.  It sounded like he was going through the same questions I was as far as what to do with it.
I'm also ponder when (not if) I'll head back north.

It wasn't terribly late and I'm sure there were lies to be told but I wanted at least a half-decent night of sleep.  It may have appeared misanthropic, but I turned in early by bear camp standards.

2019 Bear Hunt Day 5 - Fishing Upriver

After the late night, I was up later than usual.  Granted my previous night wasn't as late as the guides, but it was still late.  The group had all agreed to get going a little later so all was well.  Since I was still up and going early, I fished some from the dock without any success.

After breakfast, we split up to go fishing upriver.  Dave took Gil, James, George, Nate and I upriver in the big boat to fish.  It was a gorgeous morning with a bit of a breeze.  It took just under an hour to get to our first spot for the day.  George and I almost immediately hooked into a big pike double - with George bringing in a 33-incher and mine being 37 inches.  Dave took pictures of which I hope to get copies.

Then things slowed down again.  We tried a few places and caught some more fish.  A few were good sized and some were about right for eating.  But the action wasn't as fast as it often is.  Still, it was a good morning with good company.

For lunch, everyone in camp met up at a shelter for fish bake.  This was the shore that was littered with wolf tracks the previous year, but I didn't see any this year.

I did climb up to the top of the granite rocks where the view is amazing.  Even without the bear hunting this would be a trip worth doing.

We all talked about our fishing excursions - all the boats had decent mornings and a few oddballs were caught including a really huge black crappie.  Derrick brought some of his moose meat sausage which was phenomenally good.  This along with the stuffed jalapenos, which seem to exist only up here, were almost enough for lunch.
There was the usual menagerie of shore birds flying around as we were eating.  In addition to the shore birds, there was also a bald eagle.  It definitely wasn't a tame bird, but didn't seem too disturbed by us as long as we kept a respectful, measured distance.  It is pretty rare to be this up close to them.

After lunch we cleaned up and headed out for more fishing.  Dave had a fish bone from lunch stuck into his throat which seemed annoying at best - and probably worse.  He was a trooper and took us fishing until we all decided that it wasn't worth it with as uncomfortable as he obviously was.  So we headed back to where he could take care of the fish bone without resorting to the fishy needle-nose pliers used for removing hooks from pike (seriously).

Once back in camp it was a slow afternoon.  I cast from the docks for a while but nothing was happening.  Then I went into the lodge.  The last hunter in camp was out so we were waiting until he got back to eat.  He got back a little after dark, having seen a sow with three cubs.  This was entertaining, but not productive for putting a bear into the boat.
Dinner was ribs with (true) wild rice harvested from a nearby lake.  I was beginning to have difficulties remembering what day it was or how many were left.  This ... is a good problem to have.

2019 Bear Hunt Day 4 - 5 Bears Down!

It rained hard overnight and this bled into the morning as the day woke foggy and misty.  The forecast was for improving conditions, but it started nearly as wet above the water as below.  I still walked out to the dock and cast a small spinnerbait for a bit - catching one small pike.

Talk at breakfast was about whether to go out fishing or not.  I'm sure the guides weren't too excited about heading out in the snot, but for several of us, we didn't come to Manitoba to watch TV.
Nate went out to look for his bear with a couple guides and the two K's from Arizona (I know their names now, but they just seem like they should be Keith and Kathy - but aren't).  A few stayed in camp.  Carter took James, George and I out fishing.
I don't like using my hunting clothes for non-hunting, including fishing - especially when I'm still actively hunting.  And with the spitting weather, I was a bit under prepared - note to self for next time.  I ended up borrowing a bunch of stuff to wear, to the point that I was wearing more clothes not-my-own than my-own.  The rain pants were ridiculously huge, making me feel like an Amish woman in a long dress.  But they kept me dry - fishing in the rain isn't a fashion contest.  Function over form...

We went farther up river than I thought we were going to with the weather, but I guess that is where the pike were hoped to be.  Both George and I immediately hooked into fish, followed by quite a bit of time of very slow fishing - with only a few bites and fish brought into the boat.  It was still fun with a lot of talking and BSing and even a few insults thrown along with the lures.
Fishing picked up a little later in the morning - the fish were mostly small, but seemed to be fighting a lot harder than their size.  George did hook into one huge tank of a pike, measuring 37 inches, but having a girth like that of a much larger fish.  Impressive!

We headed back in to camp for lunch.  Weather was slightly improving, and temperatures were quite cool, making things hopeful for hunting for the evening.  We had a shore lunch of caught fish - which should probably be called camp lunch since it wasn't at shore (or dock lunch???).  Whatever it is called, it was quite good.  Then it was time to get ready to head out for bears.  Vance originally suggested I go back downriver since the spot I was on was known to have some big bears.  Sitting the same stand twice wouldn't normally be my first choice, but one of my rules is "Never Guide the Guide!" so I was good with that.  Once ready and waiting, plans had changed since Vance decided it was a good day to go way up river with the improving weather.

Dave and Derrick took Gil, James and I up river to hunt with George hanging around.  I was dropped off first at Honey Hole.  I wasn't wearing muck boots so they had to create a bridge from bear sleds and bait buckets to stop me from getting soaked.  I felt a little like a dainty princess.
I settled in for the wait.  Weather conditions were definitely improving ... slowly.  Not much happened at first, but I did get to see another pine martin.  These things are skinnier than I remember them being?

Around 5:40 I heard a shot which was loud enough to be close.  Based on where it came from, I didn't think it was Gil and James was using a bow, so I could only guess it was someone from one of the other boats.  No follow-ups hopefully meant something good?
Then it was another long wait as the weather definitely improved, with bright sunshine making the wet woods glisten.  Sights like that are an amazing part of hunting which reminds me that if hunting was just about shooting, it would be the most boring activity in the world.

A little after 6:00 I started to hear twigs breaking making me think a bear was working its way around me from the left.  For such a large animal, bears are one of the quietest species to hunt, so it wasn't the actual sound so much as the change to the normal din with the wind and water in the background.
Around 30 minutes later, a bear boldly walked out to the bait.  I instantly knew this was at least an interesting bear - but I couldn't tell how interesting.  He was sitting behind the barrel, making any size (and sex) judgments even harder.

So I watched him for quite some time.  Bears are incredibly hard to judge.  Small ones look small, big ones look big.  The inbetween ones are painfully tough to figure out.  I went back and forth on it for quite some time.  I convinced myself by his characteristics and mannerisms that it was a boar.  The good thing about waiting around 30 minutes was it gave me a chance to cool down from the original rush that any animal brings in with it.

Normally even a big bear will get wary when any other bear comes in.  When I started to hear noises suggesting another bear was coming in, I watched the bear at the barrel and his attitude was oddly indifferent.  "Go ahead and try to come over here," he seemed to be saying.  That did it for me, telling me he might be a bigger bad ass than I originally thought.  I didn't like the direct-on shot though, so I waited and watched.  He turned broadside giving me a split-second look, confirming that he was pretty nice.  I peered through the scope and took the shot.
I knew he was hit hard when he ran and I heard a crash just a short distance away.  I even thought I might still be able to see him.  I waited a few minutes before getting out of the stand to look for him, chambering another round at the bottom of the treestand.  I slowly made my way over toward him, hearing another bear run away as I walked - likely NOT the bear that was coming in before I shot.  Golly there are a lot of bears around.
Right by the bait barrel - a place which can be unnerving to walk by in deepening shadows in the bear woods - I suddenly heard, "KAW KAW" of a raven which scared the begeezes out of me.  I continued walking ... warily.  And there he was about 15 yards away from the barrel.  He wasn't very long, but very fat for his size.  He was a really nice bear.

I walked to the shore and hung up my orange to let the guides know a bear was down should they be by, then went back to the stand.  I was happy and thankful.
Right around the end of legal shooting light another bear came it.  It was really hard to tell, but I'm nearly positive he was a bigger bear.  I have no second guesses on my bear; body language of this second bear was all swagger though.  He never even came over the barrel, but walked directly to my bear and bolted away.  So even if my bear wasn't the biggest, maybe he was the baddest.  Post mortem in camp did show significant scars from fighting.

When the boat came and got me I heard yelling once they saw my orange.  Apparently it was a good night.  Derrick came in and I told him the bear was down.  It was a little tougher to find him in the dark, but once we got to him Derrick said, "That is a nice bear, we tripled up in the boat tonight.  Fuck I love this job."  His enthusiasm was infectious.  We walked back to the boat to get some help.  Originally he was going to do this while I waited, but there were definitely more bears in the area.  Better safe than sorry, and with bears, sorry can be very sorry.  Dave, James and George came and we took some more pictures of me with the bear.  I always feel like all the noise buggers up the stand, but it never seems to with bears.

Getting the bear back in the boat with the muck was a bit of an ordeal, but eventually we did it.  Then we headed downriver.  Gil had shot a nice bear - within rounding distance of the size of mine.  James had shot a whopper.
There was little wind and the temperature had dropped, creating thick fog and a treacherous boat trip.  Dave and Derrick did a great job, but had to drop down to idling speed several times to avoid reefs and rocks.
It was definitely a jovial mood in the boat.  The stars were amazing and it was even possible to see the swoosh of the milky way.  For a day that started out snotty and rainy - the end of the day was an odd mix of serenity and elation that is hunting.

Back in camp, Kim North Dakota and Nate had both shot nice bears.  So a total of five brought down.  the guides had their work cut out for them, skinning hides and bagging meat.  Nobody complained - the mood was great.  After only the second day, only one hunter in camp still had a tag.  And all the bears were at least respectable.  Not that it matters - I almost would prefer not knowing the size - but my bear ended up being a solid 6'4".

After another great dinner, a few of us hung out at the skinning shed.  I was getting really tired and felt like I was in the way, so I headed back to my cabin.  I felt a little ... ungrateful ... doing this, but it was already crazy late with two full bears yet to go.
As I went to bed, I ran through the days events in my head.  That little pike caught off the dock seemed like a look time ago.  I fell asleep knowing I am one of the luckiest people on earth.