Me and Mr. Bear



My buddy Rob and the bear



Claws...



I just got back from a grizzly bear hunt in Bella Coola, BC. We got the bear on day 5 of a coastal hunt in BC. The place we were hunting is a boat acess only area.

My buddy Rob drew the LEH grizzly tag. This was the only day that we had that it didn't pour rain, and we were very happy for it...

Good job! Wanna sell a single claw?

Wow, Bella Coola. Reminds me of a book I read many years ago (in highschool I think) by Leland Stowe, "Crusoe of Lonesome Lake". It was a true story of a fellow who homesteaded east of Bella Coola back prior to WWI.

Nice bear!

Tim

Bravo, Gatehouse!
Beautiful ... just Beautiful!

Give us the story, will ya?

Nickudu,

quote:

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Bravo, Gatehouse!
Beautiful ... just Beautiful!

Give us the story, will ya?

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To hell with the story, time for a bear roast and some beer..........well OK, a LOT of beer.

Congrats Gates.

Congratulations Clark,
Like Nick says lets hear the story. That looks like a pretty nice Bear. What are the measurements out of curiosity. Did you stay in Bella Coola or did you stay on board the boat?
Take good care,
Dave

Congrats on the bears!

Hi,
1)Do you eat the meat of Grizzly bears?
2)Are there any bears approaching brown bear size in Canada? I know there are big salmon runs there so the coastal bears must be BIG!
3)STORY TIME

I've copied this from another hunting site, Huntshoot.com It's a western Canada hunting forum so some fo you may be interested..I'm posting a long story there because a couple of the guys over there helped us out with some good info on the area...

Okay, here goes....

This was one of the most interesting hunting trips I've ever been on. I've never taken a boat to go hunting! In many ways we were woefully unprepared for this hunt. I thought we had figured out most of the angles, but I was wrong.

I grew up in West Van, and my parents had a sailboat. I spent most of my childhood summers on that boat, around boats, fishing in the ocean and playing in the ocean. Ive even done some pretty ambitious sea kayak trips, including a month long trip through the Queen Charlottes when I was a teenager. So I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the sea.

But after living in the mountains for so long, it became clear I've become a landlubber!!! I prepared the way I usually do for a moutain hunt, and we threw in some extras like hip waders and fishing rods...We had alot to learn

Day#1 We left Pemberton about 9AM, after an extensive loading of the truck the previous night and today. We were towing a 20ft power boat, with a small berth in front. We also had a 12 ft aluminum with a 9.9.

We headed to Williams Lake, where we called up Steve Rupp. He came and collected us at the gas station and took us to his house.

Steves got an amazing collection of hunting photos, as well as some very nice mounts and bear skins. He also has an ideal set up for watching hockey after a hard days work!

Steve explained the area we were going, and gave us some detailed instructions. Without this help we would have spent a week just stumbling around. He also recieved a SAT phone I had arranged to get couriered to his house. Someone had left it on and he could hear the battery beeping through the box som he opened it up and charged the battery. I really can't thank him enough for his help with this hunt.

Off we go to Bella Coola, towing that godawful boat down the trecherous Freedom Road. On the way, we see a number of bucks and a black wolf. We make it to Bella Coola a little after midnight, and head to the first motel we see. We wake up the owner and he gives us a key. We are exhausted and flop into bed....

I'm still unpaking, doing laundry, etc...But I have sat down for lunch and have the next installment

Day #2 We get up before the sun. Outside our motel room window there is a little park. Some Indians were having a party there when we went to bed, and it seems they are still at it.

We each have quick showers, then get dressed and head out.

We launch the boat from the Bella Coola boat launch, and we're off. It's lightly drizzling. Within 30 minutes we are in a downpour, and it is very foggy. It is then that I realize that we have some topo maps, but no tide book or nautical charts. My brother, the off-shore sailer would be horrified. Too late now, I figure.

In about 2 hours we have made it to our destination, a bay on the coast. There has been some loggin here in the past, and there is the remains of an old dock. We tie up to an anchored log, as advised by Steve. We take the dinghy and go ashore to lok for a good camping spot. We are completely soaked, and the rain is falling steadily and heavily.

Lucky for us, there is an old structure there. It is the remains of the logging camp shop. It is well used, 1/2 torn down, stained with oil, covered in bird and mouse droppings, and empty beer cans, old sneakers and broken glass are strewn around. But it is dry. We're home...

We unpack what we need from the boat, and bring enough food in for the first day. The remainder of the food stays on the boat, away form grizzly bears. In short order, we have erected a little table for cooking with some junk, and got some firewood. We're not the first people to have camped here- ther is a well used firpit right on the floor of the open structure. Time to go hunting..

We grab our guns put raingear and hip waders back on, throw some stuff in the pack, and head for the dinghy. We're about to pull off the beach, when I ask Rob if there is enough fuel, and should we bring an extra jerry can of gas. "No problem" is his reply. "We've got enough in here for a whole day." Hmmm....foreshadowing, perhaps??

Up the river we go. The river is one of the most wonderful places I've been. Rob is originally form Ontario, and he states that he has never seen anythign so magnificent. There are literlly HUNDREDS of eagles, thousands of seagulls, ducks, Canada geese and every other type of bird you can think of. And the river is full of spawning salmon. Their carcasses litter the tidal flats, and they are floating down river.

Whenever we get close to a flock of birds, they take off in a huge flurry. It is absolutely incredible. We both wish for a shotgun.


The river is completely blown due to all the rainfall. Of course, we've never been here, so we don't really know that. We crank the throttle to high and pretend we are jet boating up a river. It's sketchy at best....

Eventually, we can go no further. We are at full throttle, and basically not moving forward. We find a good spot, head to shore, and tie up to a tree. I'm glad that I know knots reasonably well. I've never put so much attention into knots before this trip...but when your only way out depends on a little line and a good knot, you triple check everything.

It's an easy bushwack to the logging road that paralells the river. It's pretty overgrown, but it sure beats trudging through alders and devils club. Rob experiences Devils Club for the first time at this point, incidently.

We hike up the road, loooking for soem landmarks Steve has told us about. After abotu 30 minutes, we find something, and start exploring. It's very thick cover, and very wet. We come across some fairly fresh salmon carcasses. Rounds are chambered, safeties are placed on, and guns are held in the hands, not on a shoulder strap.

After checkign out this area for awhile, we decide to head back. It's getting dark.

Climbing into the boat, I notice the gas canis almost empty. We've used WAY too much fuel fighting the river, and I'm glad thatt he river will carry us down..but there is the matter of the tidal flats, and gettign back to camp across the ocean.

We bump our way down the river, which has become even more of a torrent, all muddy and full of rapids that shoudln't exist. The engine cuts out for the first time. Rob tilts the gas can, so the remainign fuel will be able to get sucked up. We drift down, only using the motor to steer around bends and away form rocks and deadfall. For the first time I put my finger on what we've forgotten..We have no bloody paddles or oars. Each of us thought the other was bringing them...how idiotic.

By the time we make it down to the tidal flats, the engine has cut out three times. This is the sketchiest part of the trip- If we run out of gas here, we have no propulsion, and will just drift around. I am not lookign forward to spending the night on the tidal flats, or drifting out to sea for that matter.

Luckily, we make it back to camp, with a mouthful of gas left. Both of us feel stupid and stressed out...We vow to be more careful.

Great story of a great hunt Gatehouse!

I have to agree that Steven is one of the greatest people it has ever been my pleasure to meet.

BTW Did you grab a femur for nitro?

Gates

Great story and I'm looking forward to the next installment. I hope this isn't a monthly thing.

I was in Bella Coola last month. I've been there a half a dozen times for fishing but never been down the Hill when it wasn't socked in. My Grandfather worked on the Hill as a powder monkey for awhile. This time it was clear and view extraordinary. Was the work done or did you have to go late?

I took the ferry to Port Hardy this time, something I've always wanted to do. It sure is a long ride. The first 2 hours were interesting, the next 22 not so much. I think I'd rather drive it.

[ 09-20-2003, 20:50: Message edited by: Mickey1 ]

Gatehouse: As with everyone else, I extend my congratulations on what looks to be a fine trophy. BTW, what's the width of the front feet & what does he square out to? Bear in Fairbanks

[ 09-20-2003, 21:54: Message edited by: Bear in Fairbanks ]

Great stuff Clarke! Anxiously awaiting the next installment.

Canuck

Day #3
It's still drizzling. We decide to sleep in until 8AM, as we have been sadly lacking sleep for the last few days. Between packing the night before we left, the drive and the boat ride, we are worn out. It takes me a few days to slip into the hunters sleeping pattern -Sleep a bit at night, and nap during the afternoon- and I'm not there yet.

We finally haul our lazy asses out of bed and have some breakfast. The river is still too high for our little boat, so we elect to hike up the old road behind camp, to check for any fresh sign.

Almost immediately, we find scat, but it is quite old. There are grizzly trails criss crossing the road, but very little fresh anything. We keep slogging on, until we find a break in the trees and we are able to do some glassing over the tidal flats. We see nothing this time.

We keep hiking, hopeing to find something. Although both of us have hunted black bears quite a bit, neither of us have pursued grizzlies, and we've never hunted bears in the fall, anyway. We figure that they're going to want to get to lots of food. Hibernationis coming, and besides- bears are ALWAYS hungry. The problem is, of course that the river is FULL of food, almost to the bursting. I've seen plenty of salmon runs in BC, but this one is of incredible proportions. The coho run is on it's last legs, but the pink run is getting started. There are spawning salmon and carcasses EVERYWHERE.

Eventually, we decide to turn back. We've come across two piles of fresh scat, so we decide we'll stake out these areas in the future if nothing happens.

On our way back, we stop once again to glass the tidal flats. We haven't even made it past the trees when Rob sees two wolves.

Rob is maybe a little too eager- Hell, we're BOTH pretty damn excited- and pushes through the trees to get a shot. I'm behind him, and am still standing when he sits down on some rocks and starts shooting! One wolf takes off, running to the right. I pick him up in my scope, and shoot at him on the run, offhand. This wolf is probably safer right now than he's ever been in his life.

I move forward, plunk my ass down and Rob says "The other wolf is to the left! It's a white one!"

I swivel to the left, see something white with two ears, and let rip. Bark and wood erupts from the white stump that has two 'ears.' Not my finest moment.

We look at each other and we both feel pretty silly. Instead of dropping our packs and slithering into a nice shooting position, and cleanly taking the two wolves, we made a bunch of noise going through the trees, shot from awkward positions, and basically just 'whanged away.' Idiots...

I suggest that we need to re-examine our method of shooting at game, especially where grizzlies are concerned. Rob sheepishly agrees, and of course, I take a moment to note that he managed to miss FOUR times, to my measly TWO misses. So I proclaim myself the better shooter and pretend not to hear when he mentions that I am an excellent stump shooter.

We head back, then take the dinghy out to the moored boat to retrieve our food for the night and next morning.

Rob makes hamburgers, while I head to the creek for a jug of water, carrying my rifle as usual. Rob's burgers are some of the best I've tasted. We read a bit by latern light, then hit the sack. We're confident that tomorro is the day...And there will be NO "whanging away!!!"

Welcome back Clarke,clean out your mailbox,eh! lol derf

Day #4

We get up early, and as the rain has been sporadic over the night, we decide that it's time to try the river again.

I slime into my wet clothes again. I'm wearing fleece/gor tex pants, wool socks, my waterproof hiking boots, a poly pro shirt, my ever present Stanfields wool shirt, my gor tex jacket, and a Aussie Akubra hat. I'm not a hat person at all..I loathe wearing hats, but this Akubra hat has been my best freind. My gal brought it back form Austraila for me a couple of years ago, but I have rarely worn it, except to cut wood in the rain. It has been keeping the rain from running down the back of my neck for days, and I am in love with it....

All my stuff is 'warm when wet' types. When I get back, I hang it up, ring it out, and it's not completely drenched in the morning, just wet. but I'm warm...

Rob, conversely has brought alot of COTTON!!! Although he's brought alot, nothing of his is drying out. he keeps needing to change his wardrobe completely. His jeans never dry out, his sweat shirt is soaked. At least he's got some rain wear. I make fun of him quite a bit, but eventually I bestow a gift upon him...

I give him my extra poly pro shirt. The one I was saving for changing into in a couple of days. As many of you know, poly pro gets a little ripe after a day or two....I decide that I will stink, but he won't get hypothermia. Besides- he has to put up with my manly aroma...Yes, I am a hell of a guy he digs around and finds his long underwear actually is mostly poly, with only a little nylon! He is saved.

We get in the dinghy, and head across the bay. Our intention is to take the boat upriver, find a couple of landmarks, then tie up, make a short hike, and slowly creep through the bush by the river, hoping to find a big grizzly.

We round a bend, and we spot our first grizzly. He eyeballs us, and makes for cover, while we are still about 700 meters away...He looks like he has really nice fur, and we are both in love with him. Beautiful animal.

What a change a day makes. The rain has slowed, so the river is not flooded. In fact, it is downrigth low. The prop ont he dinghy hits the bottom a few times. By now, we are a little smarter...We have 'paddles'- a couple of pieces of flat wood that I have peeled off a driftwood cedar.

At a certain point, the river is simply too low for anythign else, so Rob, (wearing waders) jumps out and starts pulling the boat up river by the painter. I think that there may have been comments about how the boat could 'easily be lightened by 260lbs' but I couldn't hear them, as I have been made deaf by Robs muzzle blast while he was whanging away at the wolves...



There are spawners everywhere...With each step Rob takes, there is an explosion of fish. The rain may have triggered the pinks to hit the river, as there didn't seem to be as many before.

Eventually, he is able to climb back in and, as I hold the boat wiht the paddle, he starts the motor and we are on our way upstream.

What a difference a little time and rain makes...We soon find the river too shallow to roceed at all, whereas it used to be too deep. We find a convienient mud bank, and put to shore.

I climb up with the painter, and secure it to a large birch. I then secure another piece to another birch...And we climb up the muddy bank into the forest.

We know that the road should be not too far, but getting there is a bit of a proble, with deadfall, devils club, shrubby alders and swamp blocking our path. I dig in my pack for my GPS, to mark the locationof the boat, as we may be back in the dark. No GPS...I've left it back at camp.

Cursing, I pull out a roll of flagging tape. Of course, it's the greeny yellow type, not red. And the green blends in nicely with the leaves...Oh well. At least we have the topo map and a compass...

We bushwack to the road, leaving flags along the way. When we get up there, we string a long piece of tape across the road, so that we MUST see it upon return. We have made it to the road by a long, flat clearing...We start hiking. Our goal is some flatter part of the river, where we might have a bit of distance for viewing.



Eventually, we get there. There are grizzly trails everywhere. Rob decides it will be a good idea to walk directly off the road into a steep bit of trail. I'm not so sure, but follow at a distance. We quickly find we are not grizzlies, and retreat.

Another approach takes us into the heart of big grizz territory. We get down to the river, then follow a tributary creek up through the dense, thick rainforest. There are salmon carcasses liberally scattered, and tracks everywhere. We have already chambered rounds, and the thumb is on the safety.

Unless you have been in an area like this, it's hard to describe the tension. On the one hand, we WANT to see a grizz...On the other hand- It's so close that the grizz you may see will be just a blur as he comes for you. Like I said before- I've never hunted grizzlies, but I've sure run into them alot. It's scary enough in the open when you have a bit of room to manouver, but there was NO room whatsoever.

We spent a couple of hours int here, creeping around, then found a nice sandbar with vegetation, where we sat down to check things out for a bit.

It's getting late, gettign dark, and we have no GPS and a long hike. I'm not worried about the hike back, infact I'm not worried about runing into grizzlies at night. I'm worried about the boat ride. Rob is just the opposite (what do you expect form an A.F.E.?)

He's worried about being chewed on the road, but not concerned wiht the boat ride. What a pair!

We start sloggin back to the boat. It's an awful long way. We've already walked about 10km that day, and the boat is about another 8km back.

We both start to experience a bit of discomfort. We've been wet for days, and our boots are soaked, too. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but the wet clothes and hiking have given us what I can only describe as DIAPER RASH!!! Ouch!! Our feet are sore, but we can deal with that. Every step, however, chafes our crotch. Our asses and balls are raw. Yuck...

We get back to the flagging tape, only to see that it has been broken. A grizzly musyt have walked right through it, as there are no other humans here, and a deer probably would have jumped it. Talk about insult to injury...

We make it back to the boat, and only have the usual problems getting downriver int he pitch black- grounding out, taking wrong turns, getting high and dry, etc. Onmore than one occasion, I ump out and yard the boat back on course. My boots have long since filled in wiht water, so I don't care.

That night, we walk bow legged back to camp, and heat up some bear spagetti I made up before hand. It seems somewhat ironic toi be eating bear while you hunt them...

WOW, That is one big freaking bear!
How does that bear compare with the other bears in the area? Bigger, smaller, average?

Hi,

Nice bear and nice PICs,great hunt, Kev

Wow! Nice bear! Coastal griz or coastal brown, such a bear by any other name would still smell like a skunk. But the hunt was sweet. Congratulations! The suspense is killing me, but the story is in the details. Cheers!

C'mon Gates, I have to leave for Ft. St. John at 6pm. I gots to know the rest of the story. I can't wait three weeks.

By the way, 20 years ago a Wolf was a a real rarity on the Plateau. They seemed to move in during the late 80's. Now they are a real pain in some places, particularly on the Deer and an occasional cow. I have heard that the Goats in the South have taken a hit too as they live in country that isn't as 'cliffy' as elsewhere.

What a wonderful hunt!!!!
Congrats and thanks for sharing it with us
Very good!!
LG

Day #5

We're up early and it's a beautiful day. The sun is shining!! (It proves to be the only sunny day we get)

We decide to glass the tidal flats once more, so we take the dinghy to the flats, then climb up into some trees for a better vantage point, and sit...and sit..and sit.

About noon we decide to head back for breakfast. the prevous evening on our way down the river, we saw several bears, so we intend to eat then head up river, and try to slowly drift down, checking for bears.

We are about to climb into the boat when I look up at a distant stump. Hmmm....Did that stump move??? The binos confirm it' s a grizzly, abotu a km away.

Let's go!

We start one of the most exciting stalks I've ever done. The tidal flats are flat, of course, but they are criss crossed with dips and channels, with long sea grass gently swaying in the wind. the wind is going across, away from the bear, so we are in luck.

We sneak along the flats, (well, 'sneak' is a stretch...sometimes our waders sink halfway to our knees) Using every channel, ditch and piece of driftwood, we approach the bear.

He is feeding his way along, stopping to sniff salmon carcasses. We lose sight of him several times, when he climbs down into ocean channels. We make it to a large driftwood stump, and then creep up towards the next one. We intend to either shoot from the stump, or reasses the situation when we get there.

Rob is almost at the stump, when the bear pops out of nowhere. We both freeze. the bear seems unconcerned, and starts to feed toward us. I look up at the grass, steam is rising from it, and the wind is still in our favour. I start to think that this might just work out after all...

Rob is sliding into position, I'm still about 10 yards back...the bear is on the other side of the stump, still unaware...Ooopps...spoke to soon. Either the wind shifted, or he spotted movement, but he stands up to check us out. He is about 60 yards away...When he stands on his hind legs, he is impressive to say the least...

He must not really like what he sees, so he starts to amble off. Rob is convinced hes going to dissapear, but I'm sure he'll stop. Sure enough, at 160 paces, he stops and gives Rob a nice broadside shot. Rob is waiting for me to get a rest so I can shoot as well, as previously arranged, but I know there is not time. I tell him to shoot, just as my foot gets stuck in a mud bog, and I slip into a ditch....

I scramble up, and Rob shoots. I shoot a moment later, but it is not necessary. Rob's 160 gr X bullet from his 7mm RM has entered the right shoulder, traveled through the body and exited through the left shoulder. He falls to his left, then scrambles to get up, but, with both shoulders wrecked, he only suceeds in pushing himself over in sumersaults. Growling, he drops down off a little bank, out of sight.

Rob and I take a slightly circular route to the bear. We have rounds in the chambers, thumbs on safeties, rifles held out low in front of us.

We approach the bear, which is lying on his side, and breathing his last. With a short shrug and twitch, it is all over for him. We approach form the rear, rifles ready, and give I him a few pushes with my foot on his butt. there is no reaction whatsoever.

The X bullet's performance was impressive, to say the least. It has completly penetrated the grizzly, and left a huge, tunnel like wound channel. I can easily put three fingers in the exit hole.

We try to lift him up on the grassy bank, out of themud, for better pictures ans skinning, but we can't move him, except to roll him about in the mud.

The tide is coming in, so after pictures, we start on him and work quickly. I have packed a small folding saw, and it makes short work of the wrists and neck. Severing the joints with knives would have taken considerably more time. The skinning is completed in about a foot of water. Once more, we are soaked, but we don't care...We go get the boat, and we are able to load up right from the spot- no packing!!!

This was probably one of the most exciting hunts I've been on fro a long time. We were hunting North Americas only really dangerous game, in an enviroment completely different from what I am used to, and the stalk was fantastic...It went on for about 45 minutes, over basically open terrain, and we thought we had lost the bear a number of times.

The bear himself isn't the king of the mountain. We didn't have a tape, but my guess is that he is about 7 foot long. We did measure the spread of his front paw with my Leatherman- it was just under 7 inches. In any case, he has beautiful fur, and a big head.

I've put in for a Spring tag in the same area. It took a tremendous amount of (mostly mental) effort to hunt in this place, because of it's relative isolation, but it is worth it. I cannot describe how priviledged I feel to live in this beautiful province, and hunt these tremendous animals.

Thanks for reading my story. Sorry I was so long winded

What an awsome hunt gatehouse! I am glad to hear the success hunt and the X-bullet.

Gatehouse - Nice job on the story, my friend.

Kindly accept a little tip from me, one to tuck away for future bear hunts ... let someone else, anyone else, for that matter, hold up the bear paw for photos. Those mitts of yours severely detract from the size of the paws!

Nick, that is a very good point! I was going to say that I noticed the size of his hands before even noticing the bears paw! Now I am glad I was nice to him when he was late returning a video.

Clarke, Awesome story!!! Thank you very much for sharing. I really think you ought to put it together, including photo's etc, and submit it to Big Game Adventures or BC Outdoors. It makes a great read, and is WAY better than most of the crap getting published these days.

Cheers,
Canuck

Neato! I'm kinda glad they don't have such critters where I roam. My heart would stop if I came face to face with one.

If you want to hang with Jackie Bushman and Jim Shockey you will have to loose the pocket-protector first!! LoL

Nice bear , nice story thanks for sharing!

Clarke, congratulations on a great hunt! Bella Coola is great, I try to go there once a year for some salmon fishing. I spent most of 1994 working by boat out of Bella Coola, doing timber cruising and cutblock layout up and down that coast. Those salmon-fed grizzlies are amazing.

You really should consider submitting this story with lots of photos to one of the Canadian magazines, you do have a gift for writing. I think most hunters would consider it a welcome change from what usually gets published.

Gatehouse,
You did an great job writing that story. I just took a short break from some boring stock work and could not leave until I finished it. To say it put someone in your shoes is an understatement, you have a true gift.

I have had some hunts like that where you never seem to dry, the "crotch rot" is completely annoying and you just seem to go on. Nothing has ever been as exciting as what you portrayed though.

BTW, you look big enough to fight these bears with a stick but I see you had the good sense to take a rifle.

Thank you for a wonderful break. I have never wanted to hunt these creatures but you have changed my mind. Unfortunately with the non resident fee as they are in BC and in Ak, I doubt it will ever happen.

Great bear and great story Clark!

We all knew it was going to be a tough hunt, that's what makes it a great story(and your master writing skills ).

I have a couple boxes of those 7mm 160gr. XLC's. This gives me alot more confidence in using them for my griz hunt, if I get my draw that is.

Now I can't wait til your sheep hunt if your going to write it as a journal type story.

[ 09-26-2003, 05:44: Message edited by: boilerroom ]