2010 Bear hunt
I decided I would like to hunt black bears this year. My cousin lives up at Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan, and he is a Conservation Officer. He deals with problem bears all too much in the spring. They’re out looking for food after a long winter hibernation. They come into yards and campgrounds. If there is any kind of food that they can smell, they’ll go find it.  
       I started gathering used deep fryer oil from the local sports complex (hockey rink) in mid winter. Also getting scraps from the local butcher/grocer. I was informed by my cousin, Cory that I was to get as much as I could. I collected enough for the first baiting of 45 gallon drums.  I made arrangements to head up north 350 kms to Meadow Lake to put out the two bait stations. The day my girlfriend and I headed up north a massive blizzard hit, travel was not advised, but all highways were open that we would be travailing. This freak storm slowed our drive, a four hour drive became just over eight hours. We arrived at Meadow Lake very early around 1:30am 10th April, usually this is a time for rain not snow. The truck and everything else was covered in a blanket of snow when myself and Cory headed out to put up the baits.

       It was a lot of work taking tree stands, barrels, and 20 litre pails full of bait into the bush. Trying to find a location for the first bait, Cory fell knee deep in a watery beaver run that was hidden by a foot of snow. He refused to go home and dry out, so we finished up the one bait. It took most of the day to haul all the gear in with a quad and trailer. What remained of daylight hours was spent searching for an other location to set a second bait. All of the forestry roads were impassable along with the well travelled quad trails. Deep ruts filled with water and deep snow would not allow the quad through, but if it was just one or the other it would have been possible. We went back for a sleep and to dry and thaw out from the -10C weather. The next day was a bit easier, we found a sandy location the quad could pull the trailer behind. Both baits were now full and waiting for bear to start “hitting” them.
  Cory would check the baits to see if they were getting any action, to save me from coming up to find out nothing had come yet. One day Cory took his young black lab for a walk into the baits. The first bait, nothing, the second one however was hit and hit hard.  As he was picking the barrel up from on its side, his dog started barking. Just as he propped the barrel up and turned a bear was coming for him but turned at 5 yards and disappeared into the bush. He would have looked small bent over, but as he stood up would have grown rapidly, he’s little over six feet. As a CO he deals with bears often enough, putting out traps and relocation problem bears.  We both though he would have heard it charging, but natural predators are in a league of their own.
  At least every two weeks I would come up and hunt either by myself or with my Dad and Brother. The first time we went Dad seen a sow with three, year old cubs, but after that nothing every time. So for a month and a half I was pretty much just baiting the barrels and sitting in a tree wondering if it was all worth it.

Work was really busy and hard to get time off, but I managed to get last weekend off (June 12,13 & 14). Dad said he would come along for the hunt. After yet again a long drive north, Dad went into the bait that had been hit first and the most. I went to the first bait that was a dud, it had been hit once. This area was beautiful with a fast flowing creek, and beaver dam just a little further up. Dad thinks he saw six different bears that evening hunt. Me I saw nothing at the bait but a skunk, and on a walk up the creek saw lots of beavers.

The next day was my turn to sit in the active bait. We were off to a slow start, because the sun sets around 10pm this time of year and didn’t get settled down for bed till 12:30am. 30 minutes after Dad dropped me off at the bait I saw my first ever bear. A young black, that had rubbed patches of fur off. I thought he was a cub with really bad pelt so never even though about taking a shot.  He fed from the barrel for 15 minutes and then disappeared into the forest. After a two hour wait I saw second bear. This one was about the same size but its coat was in better condition. I still never thought about shooting. After around 15 minutes he vanished as silently as came in.  A short half hour wait had me hearing soft sound of leave crunching from directly be hind me. I slowly looked over my shoulder to see a small bear walking off of a trail heading for a different trail leading to the bait. I’m not sure if all of these trails were here before, but there were about eight trails leading into this small clearing in the Provincial Forest. I snapped a couple pics and put my camera back in my [s]fanny pack[/s] bum bag. As I watched the young bear I thought I could hear something behind me. I didn’t bother to turn I feared making noise. The bear on the bait left and as it did, directly below me a bigger looking bear was walking on a trail that would take him past my ladder. I tried to get my camera to take a pic of the bear right beside the ladder, but he stopped and surveyed the clearing. I must have made a noise, because he slowly cranked his head around and looked me strait in the eyes! I was reaching for the wrong item. The muzzleloader should have been pointed right on him, as it could have been up the tree with me before I would have gotten a shot off. Luckily this bear was more scared than me, and quickly but not full out left the same way he came. I thought about shooting him as he ran down the trail, but figured but the time I turned and got set up he’d be gone. A pic of the trail the bear was on.            

After over two hours passed two cubs entered the opening from a head and to the left.  They feed very tolerant of each other, and every now and then would look off into the bush in different directions. I only got two pics then my camera died.  
It was probably only five to ten minutes when their heads snapped around and looked in the opposite direction of me into the bush. One cub shot strait up the tree the barrel was chained to, and the other one ran 25 yards and shot up a different tree. They can climb up as fast as they can run I think! I knew some thing was happening. As I started to raised the .50 cal I saw what I thought was a big bruin. He just walked in like he owned the place. He never looked at the scared sh#tless cubs, or had a look around like the other bears did. I wanted to pull the trigger on him really bad, but refrained from doing so till it was just right.
He got to the barrel and sniffed it. He measured up much bigger to the barrel than the other bears. His back was up near the top of the barrel. I was calm and steady waiting with gun cocked and locked.  I waited till he got broad side which seemed to take for ever. The muzzy barked without delay, and the bear smashed into the barrel knocking it over but the chain stopped the bear and the barrel from continuing through. Just as lightning fast as the first charge he hit the barrel with a bite at his side in between. This time when he didn’t make it through he turned and headed in the opposite direction. It was hard to tell what was going on he was so fast he made the 35 yards in a flash then dropped to the ground. Shortly after falling he did what I was warned of, the death moan. I was happy when it stopped for I knew he was dead and I did not enjoy that part of the hunt. From the moment I pulled the trigger I was shaking like I have never shaken before. I was just vibrating, trying to text my Dad, Cory, and Girlfriend. I couldn’t make sense in what I was typing. The adrenalin dose was the most I had ever experienced. The text went something like this, “Got a big boar fark shaking. Down in sight. Cubs up trees.” It took me a long tome to write that text. The cubs were still up the trees and had no idea what had happened. The one up the barrel tree came down after five minutes, and hit the ground running propping the barrel back up. The other unfortunate cub was sh#tting it’s self because the boar fell under his tree. After making noises that resemble a monkey, and snapping his jaws for 15 minutes he came down. He just trotted off at first the ripped off into the bush. When Dad arrived I climbed down from my perch, and told what had just happened.


After taking field photos we tried to lift him onto the quad. That was not going to happen. We returned with ramps and that eased the loading process.
The next day Dad was dropped off at the bait and I was going to deal with my bear and gear. As soon as I got to town I got a text saying “Bear down”.  An other 10 minutes passed and I received a text saying another bear here.    
Not a half hour of sitting that morning and both of our tags were filled in one weekend. Dad shot a old sow that dropped on the spot from his .270. Her teeth were worn down, and had a good cape from the shoulders forwards.

The month and a half of nothing was well worth this weekend.
Cheers Canadian Mulie      
 

Nice Bear. For me, Bear hunting is a blast.