I remember sitting on the side of a cliff with my brother, being mad at myself on the third day of our hunt. We had just picked up a bear that morning with our glass and I chose to not try to close the distance with my bow. Instead, I caught myself just overthinking the situation. This led to a bunch of time wasted. That was at 7:30 a.m. At 10:30 a.m., I indeed picked the bear back up with my binoculars. It happened again though, and I didn’t act. Excuses rolled through my head about why I shouldn’t try to make that stalk. “The bear is not going to be there when I get over there. I don’t want to waste time going on a blind stalk.” Before I knew it, we were heading back to the truck, dreaming of the fantastic breakfast we would have in town the next morning. The whole time in doing so, I was frustrated. Frustrated that I didn’t at least TRY to make something happen.
2 days beforehand, we awoke at 3 a.m. to start the long journey across the state of Arizona. Our plan was to head into an area we have never stepped foot in, with the hopes of filling one, or both, of our OTC bear tags with our bows. On the way up, music was never played once through the speakers of my truck. My brother and I talked the entire way about our excitement and if this spot would live up to our expectations. Visions of grass choked hillsides and hungry bears grazing through them sent waves of adrenaline through us. Creeping into bow range of an unaware and feeding black bear is something I have dreamed about doing for years. The previous year, I had done just that. However, my 2 arrows ended up sailing right over the bear’s back, leaving me making the long walk of shame back to camp with less arrows, no bear, and a gripping story. That experience lit a fire under me that wouldn’t soon go away. Since then, the memory of those arrows barely missing that bear is one that has not only haunted me, but driven me.
After more cups of coffee than I can recall, we finally rolled into camp at about 10:30 a.m. This is where we would call home for the next 4 days. Where we would start and end our days. I could tell that this was used as a hunting camp in the past. Finding evidence of hunters before has always been something I get a kick out of. I’m not talking about garbage or anything. In this camp, we found a makeshift meat hanging pole between two trees. Probably was used for elk. When I see things like this, I try to imagine the memories that were made in that very spot. The laughs that were shared and just the overall camaraderie of those before. How good it must have felt for whomever it was to cut up there elk right where I stood.
Our plan was to get camp setup, relax a bit from the drive, and then head out for the evening. Most of the time, my brother and I prefer to backpack hunt, but on this excursion we would be operating out of a very simple truck camp. Packing in and out of areas can tend to eat up a lot of time, so we decided against that. Being unfamiliar with the area, we really didn’t know where we were going to end up hunting. It would just depend on where the bears were and that was something we intended on learning very soon.
On our hike into where we planned on glassing from for the evening, I felt like my eyes were going to fall out of my head. As if I was following a pinball in a machine, I could not stop looking at all of the tracks and vibrant colors on vegetation. The striking sights of the high country were something to behold and not views we were accustomed to. My amazement didn’t stop there. Once we reached the country we planned on glassing, I had to stop and take it in. Our smiles went from ear to ear and before you know it, we were behind the glass.
Just like on the hike in, my eyes were bouncing in every direction, but now it was happening in my binoculars. We saw elk after elk after elk. These were big velvet bulls too. So big, that I remember sitting there and laughing. I was telling myself, “these look fake!” We watched as multiple groups of bulls came out to feed on several different hillsides for the evening. Sorry, did I say “hillsides?” I meant to say “mountain sides.” This country was big and steep. Perfect habitat for a roaming black bear. This came to be true right before dark that evening. My brother caught a bear walking along a log at last light, but lost sight of him just as quick. Our suspicions were true and the bears were indeed here. The hike back to camp was filled with excitement and anticipation of the coming days.
As I sat in camp beneath the moonlight and drank my coffee that morning, I wondered what the day would bring. This would be our first full day in this country and we planned on staying out from sun up to sun down. Even though activity is more prevalent during early morning and late evening, I feel as if you can see a bear at any time of day in the spring. Many hunters head back to the truck during midday, and while it is slow, if you aren’t looking, you aren’t going to see bears. I have seen bears many times at noon and 1 o’clock out for a midday feed, or to get water.
That dark spot is the red bear that was trailing the sow.
We sat and glassed all day long and turned up tons of deer and elk, but no bears. That was until about 5 p.m. I caught movement in my binoculars through the trees. I said to my brother, “BIG RED BEAR.” Big bears just have a look and a walk to them. Once you see it, you know. Up ahead of this bear, I caught more movement. I said to myself, “cubs are usually in the back.” A crushing feeling came over me, thinking that this might be a big sow with cubs. That feeling was put to rest when I realized the big red bear was actually trailing a sow. If you saw the sow alone on the hill, you’d think it was a nice bear. Compared to the boar though………Let’s just say he looked part grizzly.
Because, of what time it was and where these bears were located, we opted to stay back and enjoy the show. Personally, I felt as if I just didn’t have enough time to put together a quality play on this boar before dark. That was fine, because I was confident in the fact we would see one or both of these bears the following morning. Until then, we were amazed at how these bears just walked around manhandling trees. They would bend the trees over, sit on them, and then eat the flowers that were growing on the tops. The boar did this, all the while, never losing the trail of the sow. Love was in the air.
After what we saw the night before, to say I was motivated for the day would be an astounding understatement. Today was one of those days where I was ready to do whatever it took to get a play on one of these high country bears. My eagerness for the arrival of us at our glassing spot was apparent on the whole hike in that morning. By the time we got there, I was drenched in sweat from pounding through the country so quick. Not 30 minutes went by and I picked up a bear working it’s way through the thick ferns across the drainage. “It’s time to go,” I said. We grabbed our packs and started putting ourselves in a position where we could cross the deep drainage that stand between us and the bear. Before doing so, I lost the bear….
I knew that the bear had to be somewhere in the vicinity of where I last saw it, and that should be enough right? Enough to descend into the canyon and make a play on the other side? Part of me said, “yes.” The other said, “no.” After twiddling my thumbs and wondering what the best move was, a lot of time had passed. Precious stalking time out the window. This frustrated me to no end. I cannot stand when I hold myself back from things, due to my overthinking. An opportunity lost, is an opportunity wasted. Which brings us to the beginning of this piece. Like I said above, I was able to pick the bear back up again later this morning, but the same thing happened. Something, whether notable or not, didn’t feel right, and I didn’t act.
Once I realized how much time I really did waste, we headed back to camp in order to pack up our tent. There was a chance of thunderstorms that evening and all the next day. We didn’t want to have to pack up in the rain. Our plan was to just sleep in the truck that night because of this. Funnily enough, we weren’t even planning on going back into the same area to hunt that evening and were talking about trying somewhere else. Makes a lot of sense right? We are seeing bears over here, so let’s go somewhere else. I put that idea to rest pretty quickly and before I knew it, we were headed back into the drainage from that morning.
Upon our arrival, we noticed some mule deer running beneath us. My brother said, “Ah, we probably spooked them.” In less than a minute, a golden cinnamon bear walked right beneath us at 129 yards. I started trying to predator call for my brother, in order to bring the bear closer. This was fruitless, so what happened? My brother grabs his bow and starts bombing down the super steep grade beneath us, in pursuit of the bear. This bear wasn’t spooked at all, but when they are on the move, they are on the move. He ended up getting to 80 yards of the bear with no shot. Witnessing my brother go after that bear really made the trip for me. Mentally, I was OK with my tag still being in my pocket. Things changed moments later though.
I just so happened to glance into the bottom of the drainage after arriving back up at our glassing spot. There was a black spot down there, that deserved a look through the binos. What I saw left me almost speechless. It was a boar breeding a sow, just 400 yards below us on the top of a parallel spine. I have looked over a ton of bears over the years and never have I ever seen anything like this. About 5-10 minutes went by and I could see that they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. This seemed to be a perfect opportunity for me to get over there and close the distance with my bow. In no time, I was headed down into the deep drainage to ascend onto the spine where the bears were.
It only took me about 20 minutes or so to get onto the same hill as them. The thing was, I really had no idea where they were in relation to where I was, other than they were to my right somewhere. I just knew that if I got to the top of the spine and crept my way down it, I should run into them. So, that’s what I did. I remember thinking on the way up the steep mountainside, “I hope this boar doesn’t come charging down at me, thinking I am another bear coming to cramp his style.” Soon after the thought, I made it to the top unscathed.
My brother marked this tree with tape, so I could find my way back after the stalk.
Slowly, I crept my way along the top of the spine. On my way, I can remember thinking how far fetched it sounded for this to actually work out. Stalking a bear is one thing, but stalking a pair of breeding bears? That is something I still have never heard of. The topography was starting to look very familiar from what I saw when I was above. All of a sudden, I saw a bush move right in front of me, not 40 yards away. I took note of the very slight breeze hitting me in the face and that it wasn’t enough to move that bush. Then I heard a deep sound that hit me right in the chest. It was the grunts of the boar while he did his deed. Soon after, I could see movement through the bush. They were right in front of me and had no idea that I was there. With that being said, I had no shot, so I inched my way closer.
The bears were just on the other side of a fallen tree and the boar was not giving up on the sow. Every time the boar brought his eyes down below the tree that separated us, I’d take another step closer. Soon, I was a mere 30 yards away and watching this sow try to get away. The boar would grab her by the top of the head and pin her to the tree. I could hear them breathing, so that was close enough for me. For 15 minutes these bears bred in front of me with no shot from where I was. Even if I didn’t get a shot, I would have been content with just experiencing this at such a close distance.
The sow was finally able to break away from the boar. She walked off to my right, but not far. The boar though, ended up sitting down and panting like a dog, still 30 yards away, and still with no shot. I decided to try to move to my left for a different angle. In doing so, the boar ended up hearing me break a stick. His head lifted up, and soon his entire body. This bear was standing on its hind legs looking at me. I came to full draw and settled my pin on his chest. However, I noticed that the bear was slightly turned, so I let down and so did the bear. He slowly walked towards me and got up on the fallen tree. Again, he presented me with his chest, but this time he lowered his head trying to figure out what I was, blocking a shot. We were now facing each other with nothing standing in between us, looking into one another’s eyes. A powerful experience.
All the while, I knew that the sow was over to my right still, and I knew that eventually the boar would turn to the right atop of that fallen tree and make his way towards his female. The boar looked towards the sow and I came to full draw and stayed there for what felt like a minute or so. Eventually, the boar turned to his right and gave me a broadside, slightly quartering to shot. My pin rest behind his shoulder and the arrow was on its way.
When my arrow hit him, the bear did a full on flip off of that fallen tree and screamed. His roar echoed through the canyon, followed by him charging his way down the hill away from me. Aside from watching where the bear went, my first instinct was to grab my handgun, because I had no idea how the sow would react. She ended up stepping out at 15 yards looking at me. I yelled at her and she looked at me like I was an idiot. So, I picked up a rock and threw it her way while yelling with my hands in the air. Once she realized what I was, she bombed down the hill away from me. I could hear my brother whooping and hollering from above. I thought to myself, “did that just really happen?” It was 6 p.m. and I just sent an arrow through my first archery bear.
Recovering my arrow had me slightly worried. I indeed got a pass through on the bear, but the blood was a darker red, rather than bright red with bubbles. I also didn’t see or hear the bear go down. Because of this, I opted to back out, thinking I hit one lung and liver. My thinking was, I’d rather lose a little bit of meat, than the whole bear, because I bumped him. This decision was not easy for me and left my stomach in knots the whole rest of the night and following morning. When I got back up to my brother, we hugged and I said, “all you have to do is try.” Because of just trying, we would be heading in the next morning to pack hide and meat. My only hope was that it didn’t rain and or other predators wouldn’t get to him.
The whole hike in that morning, I felt like I was going to throw up. I was hoping beyond hope that my bear was OK, and that we would find him with no hiccups. We soon arrived at the sight of the shot. Not 2 minutes in, I found blood. Then more, then more. The trees were painted red going down the hill. It’s not often you get a good blood trail with bears, so I was very grateful for this. About 75 yards from the shot, I looked up ahead of me and could see fur laying there in the dirt. “There he is,” I said. We had done it.
Walking up on that bear filled me with emotion. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fighting the tears back being down there with my brother. This was something I had been pursuing for years and it finally all came together. The way it came together though was a scenario that I couldn’t come up with if you asked me to do so. Never would I have thought that I would sneak up on a breeding pair of bears, followed up by arrowing the boar. Unforgettable.
As it usually is, the pack out was one to remember. We traversed our way up and down the steep grades that called this unforgiving place home. Every step we took was one more closer to the truck. I love these rough pack outs. The whole time, I tell myself, “you asked to be here, soak it up.” We made that 2 mile hike with heavy packs and a huge smile on our faces. To come into an area that we have never stepped foot in, fill a tag in a way that has been a dream of mine, and do it with my brother? That is the making of a memory that will be burned into my mind forever.
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