After breakfast Thomas took Waylon and me out for fishing. We went upriver above the rapids (not sure the term is correct since there are no "rapids" this year), and hit several bays. It was a phenomenal day of fishing. We hooked into pods of pike through the morning with enough slow sections to keep us slightly humble.
I think Waylon caught about three fish to my one, but I remained stubborn to my spinnerbait when I probably should have switched to a spoon like Waylon was using. I did not really like the movie A River Runs Through It, but I find myself overthinking that pike are supposed to be caught on spinnerbaits, much like how one fly-fishes plays a role in the movie - probably a symptom of getting older...
I did hook into the largest pike I've caught in a few years, bringing in a fat 37" pike. Watching it hit right near the boat was quite exciting.
Dave had taken tagged-out hunters upriver, so there were only a few of us for lunch. Then a nap and it was out for bears.
Weather was cool and cloudy. Forecast was for some rain, but it looked like we would be just outside of it as it drifted south. I loved the cool weather and decided to chance it and not bring rain gear.
I felt oddly optimistic as Drew took Rebecca and I upriver. The scenery was stunning. The cool temperatures got my blood going. Wind was non-existent. Even the cloudiness seemed right.
Rebecca was dropped off at Greer Lake. I was sitting in the boat waiting; the loons were wailing and laughing in the distance. It was a rare, beautiful, magical moment.
With low water we had a longish walk to Gas Can from where Drew beached the boat. The bait had been hit since being filled previously in the morning. I got easily situated as Drew left me alone for the afternoon. A grouse was loudly drumming and this continued through the early afternoon; I had not previously heard this in the fall.
I was dozing a little bit when I was brought back to alertness by movement to my left. A bear was nosing through the woods, headed into the bait. It got to the small clearing, looked in my direction and did a 180, turning back into the trees.
I watched it for several minutes as it wandered a bit, then lost sight for a short time. It returned, and made its way once again to the bait. After walking it, it took a quick bit of spilled popcorn before nervously high-tailing it out to the right.
For the short time I had a good view of it, my impression was of a good bear, but still thin and young. I didn't want to overthink at this point.
About an hour passed before another bear came in from the right. This bear was not the same bear as the first one, and was confidently bold. It scrambled around the barrel before making short work of the logs and started eating.
I watched the bear while my mind fought for what to do. I knew it was not a monster, but everything about the bear screamed 'pretty good.' It was not real long, but it was very fat for its size. It was tall enough to see over the barrel, even when it was in the depression the barrel was in. It had to struggle to get its head into the barrel.
But every time I looked at it through the scope, it shrunk...
And then there were the rationalizations - both positive and negative. I'm 100% good with a good bear. I'm not sure the freezer has room for a whopper? But with good weather, no reason not to hunt more? I think I really do want to go home with a bear? My mind went back and forth at least 87 times.
I went on my first bear hunt in 2009. That hunt ended on the exact stand I was on. I thought about how excited I was then ... how excited the 2009 me would have been to see a bear like this ... of the infinite lessons since that 2009 kid was sitting on this spot in Manitoba, one of the best lessons is cooling down while hunting; one of the worst curses is overthinking.
After about an hour the bear turned to leave toward the right. I saw the bear fully in broadside. Decision made. Good enough won out.
After the shot, the bear ran a few steps and I heard it crash. I knew it was over. I waited as long as I could and got down out of the treestand. I easily found my bear. It was a beautiful, stout black bear; I was happy.
After grabbing a couple pictures, I put out my orange on a tree and got back in the treestand. I knew it would be a long wait. But temperatures were nice and there was a bear on the ground, so even if it was a bit tiresome, it was also almost spiritual.
I spent quite a bit more time thinking about 2009 vs. the current day. I was so fortunate to be able to go on a bear hunt in 2009, and that is still true today. I found it serendipitous that my first and 10th bear were taken from the same stand; that may have been a very small reason (of many) in my decision to shoot. I'm not the same person I was in 2009 ... at all. But I still am me.
Right around sunset I heard a boat come in. Chris and Drew came in to get me. We took some pictures before loading my bear into the sled and making our way to the boat.
Coming around that last bend before camp, the moon was peering eerily through the clouds as the lights of the dam glinted in the distance; I let myself have one more bit of nostalgia as I thought back to the same journey in the freezing cold temperatures in 2009.
Back at camp Rebecca had taken a near carbon copy of my bear with a beautiful white tie. Waylon had taken a pretty good bear as well. As my bear was almost done and in the freezer, Bill came in with a whopper of a boar. Everyone had tagged out. The guides were happy so many bears were taken with light left, and very little tracking was needed overall.
Everyone else had eaten so Bill and I ate dinner while talking with Chad.
We all still had two full days to fish.
I went to bed filled with memories ... and much gratitude.
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