Back in 1979 (In a galaxy far far away) my brother Brad, his wife Jennie, my wife Lorna and myself found ourselves on a bear hunt. Over the years I had taken several bear from the Baldwin camp, but my younger brother Brad could never seem to “get his act together!” Our goal, on this hunt, was to get Brad a bear.
We only had two baits out, but both were being”hit” on a regular basis. We had brought up four 55-gallon cardboard drums filled with meat scraps. As a precaution we kept the barrels about 50 yards from the cabin, just in case “old blackie” got a little to nosey. A few years, prior to this trip, we had bear leave their paw prints on the front window of the cabin, due to having our bait boxes to close. Hopefully that wasn’t going to happen this year.
Brad and Jennie also had there little boy Brandon with them, so we only had three days of bear season to hunt before they needed to be home, and I had to be back to work. Back then the camp didn’t have a bunkhouse with indoor plumbing. There were several mattresses in the loft, and that is where we set up sleeping quarters.
Both stands were on Baldwin property, with the closest only about 250 yards away, on the other side of the ridge. There was an old wooden blind there, on the side of the hill, with 2 old metal chairs inside. The bait was about 60 yards away, down by the creek. The second bait was about a mile in the opposite direction. Brad never did like getting very far away from civilization, so we decided he would hunt the “close” blind.
Well wouldn’t you know it, opening morning found us in “monsoon” conditions, and there was no way either one of us was “man enough” for those conditions. One day down, two to go! Early the next morning I climbed down the loft ladder to “relieve” myself, and stepped out on the front porch to do so. The combination of being cold, and lazy, led me to do my “duty” off the side of the porch. I had not made any noticeable noise, as I didn’t want to awaken the baby or the others. As I turned to re-enter the cabin I could make out a bear ripping apart one of our meat barrels! He was too preoccupied with what he was doing to notice me, so I quietly moved back inside and closed the door. I whispered as loud as I dare “Brad your bear is waiting for you outside!” It took everyone a few minutes to catch on the I was truly serious. It was almost pitch dark, inside the cabin, but I managed to find my model 742 woodsmaster, and a couple 180 grain shells. Trying to load it, in the dark proved dangerous, as I pinched my finger in the slide, and was dripping blood. The plan was for me to slowly open the creaking door, and Brad would collect his bear rug.
A huge jet from K.I. Sawyer air base was going overhead, making enough noise that I didn’t have to worry about the door, as I flung it open! The bear didn’t have a clue! This was way to easy, I was thinking. Brad took aim, and he took aim, and he took aim, and I thought “what in the world is he waiting for?” As he squeezed the shot off, I witnessed one of the worst cases of “flinching” I’ve ever seen. A pine branch 20 feet over the bears head came crashing to the ground, as Brad sheepishly asked “did I get him?” Well that bears black rump made it up over the hill in record time, but Brad wanted us to at least check for blood. I tried to explain that the falling limb came closer to the bear than his errant shot, but we walked down by the bait barrels anyway. We now had a couple good flashlights, as the beams searched the dew covered grass. Just as Brad is about to admit he might of “flinched” a little, he says “I got blood!” I can’t believe it! I know what I saw, and there was no way he hit that bear! Sure enough, a drop here, a drop there, but it all seemed to be around where I was standing. Duh! I told Brad to shine his light on my little finger, and he would find where his blood trail was coming from. Satisfied we went back inside and had the girls fix us a “bear hunters” breakfast.
To be continued.
Mike
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The mighty bear hunters!
Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to have an easy hunt now and then - Apparently there no shooting hours for bear - or at least wasn’t back then? I think I could make Brad feel good about himself - I’ve got a horrible habit of flinching when I shoot the rifle. I’ve got to correct that!