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.
No comments:
Post a Comment