|
 |
Anticipating another awesome whitetail adventure for the fall of 2009, I was anxious to discover what reward would wait with such a great location teeming with deer. As we all know, things don’t always go according to plan.
After scouring the area and walking for what seemed like miles, all I discovered was disappointment. What had been such a great setting for whitetails in previous years had turned into a bust. My pot of gold was gone… or was it? All that deer sign had been replaced by another species—the timber wolf! There were tracks everywhere. Big ones! It became obvious to me that this majestic predator had taken over the area. I’d harvested a wolf by chance the previous year over a bear stand and was elated by the whole experience. Little did I know a seed had been planted that day. Its mysteriousness and elusiveness mesmerized me. In the blink of an eye, it all became crystal clear that this would still be my pot of gold. It’s where I would plan and strategize my spring 2010 bear/wolf hunt.
Needless to say, whitetail season was a struggle that fall. I relied on fellow outdoorsmen to lend a helping hand. They pointed me in the right direction and nearing November’s end and with daylight fading, I was fortunate enough to harvest a young buck that had sauntered into a small field at 150-yards. That little field is now my piece of paradise for whitetail.
February’s icy-winter grip had most people indoors to keep warm but true to my plan, I geared up and made my way 250-miles north of Edmonton to my new timber wolf honey hole in search of activity. I was thrilled with what I saw; it looked like a stampede had gone through the place. With no sign of human activity for miles, I knew that when April/May rolled in the moment I now craved would become reality once again.
As I stood there in the bitter cold, a sudden chill came over me. I felt uneasy, tense and nervous, like I was being watched. I was a good distance in the forest by myself and with large predators lurking in the shadows my mind started racing. Slowly, I managed to calm myself down and regain my composure.
 |
| Trevor with his 2010 black bear. |
Within sixty days, temperatures began to rise and the Alberta Outdoorsmen messageboard was bustling with talk of hunting spring black bear. I felt a certain camaraderie that accompanies sharing techniques and strategies with fellow members. The feeling of restlessness and anxiousness settled in and I knew it was time.
With all the prep work taken care of, my hopes soared higher than ever before. As I arrived on the first day of my 2010 bear/wolf hunt, I felt edgy and my senses were on high alert as I made my way up the cutline to the tree stand a kilometre away.
Comfortably settled in, several hours (that felt like minutes) had passed when a lone bear of medium size made his way into the area at 40-yards. A jolt of energy surged through me as his presence enveloped the area. His cautiousness and apprehensiveness was obvious. Shortly after his departure, another medium-sized bear arrived eagerly with two hours of daylight to spare. Many things had gone through my mind, as I made my decision on whether to take this particular bear. His size, fur quality, overall stature and the amount of daylight left had cinched it. This was my bear. His thick black coat shimmered in the northern Alberta sun as I raised my gun and watched him through the scope. It was all too surreal as he turned sideways and looked in my direction. At that moment, I gently squeezed the trigger.
A few days had passed when I replayed the scenario over in my mind. With so many tracks, why hadn’t I seen any wolves? A glimpse at least. I asked myself if they’d had some sort of sixth sense that could alert them to my presence. The pedestal I held for them grew even taller. The all-elusive timber wolf would now become the focus of my hunt.
With week two under way, most of the day had passed when a small bear crept into the area ever so slowly. I could tell he was ultra nervous. This bear was timid, scared of his own shadow and experience was telling me that something was wrong. Slowly panning the area to my left and then to my right, what I perceived to be a deer approaching through the alders at a hundred yards was no deer. I did a double take and realized it was a 150-pound timber wolf, the largest predator I’d ever seen. I looked in disbelief and was amazed by its girth. It felt like I had been struck by lightning, as adrenaline shot through my veins and I began to tremble. He was approaching my scent cone and I would have to act fast. With my rifle raised on a solid rest, he winded me and went for the wood line. The 270 rang out loud and clear without a moment to spare. My first timber wolf of 2010 had fallen to the ground.
 |
 |
 |
Trevor and the three wolves he harvested
over the spring of 2010. |
Yet another sunny day was rolling past on week three as I sat in wait mid afternoon. Time had slipped by and darkness would fall within ninety minutes. There was lots of bear activity to be seen nearby. Two bears were meeting for what seemed like the first time. Would they become buddies I wondered? Intently observing their body language, the loud shuffle of dry grass in another direction swiftly got my attention. I turned my head ever so slowly as my heart pounded harder. It was another wolf. I locked eyes on him as he closed in on my location and maneuvered myself into an awkward stance. With speed and precision, I swung the rifle into position and could see out of the corner of my eye that the two bears had caught my movement and were running into the forest the exact moment my second timber wolf went down.
The work week sped by quickly, as I was already approaching my tree stand mid afternoon on week four. Cresting a knoll, there was a mother bear accompanied by two yearlings feeding nearby. She spotted me and ran into the safety of the forest but had left the two youngsters behind. They were oblivious to my presence. I thought that she might circle in behind me so to be on the safe side, I gave a deafening sound blast of my air horn and watched the two scurry out of sight. A few hours later, sitting three-metres above ground level, I could hear the sound of a quad in the distance. It couldn’t be, I thought to myself. As it got closer, it sounded more like moaning and groaning. Chills went down my spine and I became increasingly anxious and on guard. Finally, I could see it was a bear, as he circled in the distance and made his way toward me. The gap closed to twenty yards when I stood straight up and trained my rifle on him as he kept walking towards me. I could hear a distinct clicking or popping sound, his posture showed aggression. Many thoughts went through my mind; was I going to have to end this bear’s life in self-defense? He stopped short of me at five yards. Everything went into super slow motion, we were in a stare down and one more step toward me would be his demise. He woofed, looked down, turned and stomped away. It took a good five minutes to realize what had actually happened. I was shaken up and agitated by the encounter to say the least.
My thoughts ran wild as I gazed down the cutline only to see yet another timber wolf standing there at sixty yards looking straight at me. It took a second for it to sink in. Opportunity was on my doorstep once again. I raised the rifle ever so slowly on the third wolf of the spring. With a slight pressure of my finger on the trigger, the seed that had been planted one year earlier was now in full blossom. I had become a predator hunter. ■
For previous Reader Stories click here.
|
|
|
|
