|
 |
My dad and I had planned a trip to northern Alberta for a spot-and-stalk bear hunt on the May Long Weekend. As the date approached, I realized that I was also free the weekend before and decided to do a scouting trip. Upon talking to a few of my friends about this, they took an interest and asked if they could come along. Knowing it would be nice to have the company, I invited them along to share the experience. Neither of them had been on a hunt since they were kids and they were both very excited to have the chance to come along.
“There’s a good chance we won’t see much; I’m not very familiar with the area, so it’ll probably be more of a camping trip,” I ignorantly told them.
Either way, they were just excited to get out on a hunt, so we packed our bags. I considered it a scouting trip for the next weekend with my dad, ‘where the real hunting would happen,’ I foolishly thought to myself.
Eventually we did manage to get my dad his first bear, but not until all the adventures of this weekend had unraveled.
It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny and we were lucky enough to see four bears within the first six hours. Unfortunately, none of them offered the opportunity for a stalk. With two hours of legal light left, we crested a hill and I spotted a bear about 500 yards down a pipeline. I grabbed my bow and the stalk was on.
We began to follow the tree line up towards the bear. From inside the trees, I poked my head over a small berm only to see the ears of a bear, 50 yards away. It was focused right on us. With the footsteps of three guys, it wasn’t hard for the bear to hear us sneak up. I watched as it circled us through the trees and headed towards a small game trail that presented a perfect shooting lane. I drew back my bow, delighted with how nice this was turning out... or so I thought! Just as the bear was about to step into the path, he froze. With his large paw held mid-step, he peered his head around a tree. It was one of those experiences where time stood still. I was at full draw, looking at the bear 30 yards away. His blocky head stared at me with a curious expression and eyes that seemed to look right through me.
As a hunter, I have never been in a situation where what I have been hunting has been more powerful than I have, and I don’t think it’s a feeling you can describe until you experience it! Intimidating, yet exhilarating.
 |
| Jordan poses with his Black Bear. |
In an instant, the bear leaped across the path and my opportunity was gone. I looked over my shoulder and whispered to my friends to stay right behind me as we headed in the direction the bear ran. We came to a cutline and stumbled upon a pile of warm bear scat. The whitetail half of my brain told me this animal was in the next county and so we began walking somewhat carelessly down the cutline. Venturing down the trail, I heard my friends (whom to my surprise were no longer right behind me) yell my name and point to the bush we had just left. The bear had looped around and I watched in disbelief as it trailed down the cutline behind them! The bear we were stalking was now stalking us! Worse of all, there were my friends, pinned down in the middle of a cutline with only a can of bear spray and a pocket knife for defense, and I was quite a ways off in the bush. The bear, only 75 yards away and closing, was zig-zagging towards them. Our fun little bear hunt was quickly becoming a very real safety concern! With thick willows between us, I had no shot. I was faced with a choice; either stand up and scare off the bear, or use my friends as a decoy to try to get in position for a shot. The hunter in me chose the latter!
As the bear walked closer to them, I snuck up the bush line trying to find a shooting lane in the thick willows. Finally, with the bear about 50 yards from them, I had a clear shot. The bear suddenly dashed across the cutline towards me; I drew back my bow and bleated at the bear. He paused and I released an arrow. Halfway between us, the arrow nicked a small sapling and darted into the ground behind him. A shot I knew I shouldn’t have tried! The bruin hurriedly ran off into a nearby patch of spruce. Again, I thought to myself, ‘You blew it, and this stalk was over a long time ago.’
Several moments later, I heard the bear walking in the thick brush a few yards down. I looked at my friends and they were frantically pointing at the tree line, as if the bear was coming back out towards them a second time. I got ready and this time, I wasn’t making any mistakes. The bear cautiously walked out and gave me an easy 25-yard shot. My arrow hit its mark, zipping through the bruin and into the ground behind him! Wheeling around, he ran off into the brush.
About 20-minutes later, we found my bear, which had expired only 50 yards into the bush. My first bear was down and what an experience! I’ll never know if he was just curious, or if it was his stomach that was curious. But what I do know is that I am blessed to live in Alberta and hunt these magnificent animals. Spot-and-stalk archery black bears, there’s just nothing like it!
Note: Never having put my hands on a bear, I thought this one to be smaller than average for the area. After getting the skull back from cleaning, I was surprised to measure him at 18 1/8” P&Y. ■
For previous Reader Stories click here.
|
|
|
|
