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lame them as the conditions were horrible. On the last day of our now self-guided hunt, my friend Tom took a 150 pound cinnamon. I, on the other hand, came up empty. In 2006, my friend Tom decided to go with me to Willow Creek. It was great to be back in spike camp. We saw a lot of bears but nothing of trophy value. It was a wonderful trip and when it was over I was thankful for the experience, but I still was not happy. I was now three for six. Once again I came up empty. May of 2001 found me back in spike camp. Tom decided to give it another try as well. After arriving, our rifles were checked and we were ready to go. On Monday, Tom and his guide took off to scout some hills. Andre and I stayed at camp. Andre was cooking lunch as I sat on a stump reading and enjoying the beautiful weather. Our camp was in the middle of a valley. There were two steep slopes on either side with small rolling hills in between. It was a breathtaking place. I finished a page in my book and happened to look up towards one of the slopes. Low and behold there was a bear scampering down the hill about 500 yards in front of me. I alerted Andre, grabbed my rifle and off we went. We had to cross a very wide and cold creek (boy I wish I was not wearing sneakers), and then we went up and down a couple of hills, closing the distance quickly. We stalked within 20 yards of a beautiful blackie. He would make someone a wonderful trophy, but it was not what I came for. The following day Andre and I were out scouting on the quad when we came upon a large valley that had timber on both sides with grassland running up the middle. There were a few small hills in between with tall grass and other vegetation. We stopped to glass when eagle-eyed Andre yelled "Bear!" The black spot was about two miles away feeding in the grass. There were a few mule deer in between us and him, and a few elk above him on a hill closer to us. Andre and I grabbed our gear and ran downhill to close the distance and get a better look at the bear. We made it to the hill where the elk were, but the bear was gone. After a few tense minutes, Andre spotted the bear laying down 200 yards up on an adjacent wooded hill. We decided to get closer. We were about 125 yards away when we set up. I had my collapsible shooting sticks and I was shooting my .30-06 Blaser with 1SO-grain triple shock bullets. I sat in shooting position looking through my Leupold 3x9 scope. I could not for the life of me judge the size of the bear. Andre was five feet to my right
looking directly at the bear through his spotting scope. He also could not judge the size of the bear. After 20 minutes of watching, Andre decided to do moose calls. He grunted and rubbed a log against a tree. The bear just laid there. After repeating this process quite a few times the bear'finally got up and lumbered ten feet closer to us, resting his head on his front paws, facing us. I reahzed after watching the bear lumber towards us that he was not small. Andre kept saying, "I think he's a good bear." I did not want to make a mistake. This area is a one-bear zone, and I did not want to ruin my hunt on the second day. We had the wind with uS, but that could change at anytime. Andre looked at me and wanted an answer. I just knew in my gut that he was a good bear. "Okay," I said, "but I do not have a shot." The bear was facing ffie, lying down. Andre again started to act like a moose. The bear lifted his head. I took aim at the side of his neck, steadied myself and fired. The bear's head just fell. He never flinched, expiring on impact. It was a perfect shot; the triple shock did its job. But how big or how small was this bear. I knew he was not a juvenile, but I still had my doubts. Andre and I proceeded down the hill and around the bear. I have read bear hunting articles enough to know not to approach a downed bear from the front. I was leery and came up behind the bear to his right. Andre, with video camera in hand, came around the left. "Small bear," I yelled in anguish. I was devastated. How could I travel so far and work so hard to have it end this way. I would not have taken the shot if I did not think it was the bear I wanted. I was miserable. Andre walked closer and yelled,, "I disagree. Look at your bear." I walked to the left of the bear and to my surprise, my new trophy was laying in v,/l,y'w,/. b e a r- h u nt i n g. E o m "#*.i It took the author four more bear hunts to finally bring home a bigger bear, just going to prove that mature bears are tough to get. an indentation in the forest floor. He was huge ! He was jet black with a beautiful white spot on his chest. I was overjoyed. This had been an emotional roller coaster. We were loosing light and if we were going to finish the job right we had to move quickly. After taking quite a few pictures we began to skin the bear. After an hour or so the hide was tucked in Andre's backpack. I took the rest of the gear. It was two miles downhill in pursuit of the bear, and what goes down must go back up. As exhausted as I was, there was nothing that could take the smile off my face when we finally arrived at the quad. ,t' Lochlomond Canrp in Northwestern Ontario offers you some of the best Black Bear hunting in the world. We will guarantee you a fair and honest hunt. We have l534sq. Kilometres of "Lochlomond Camp Only" territory. tWe take 30 hunters only per season, rifle or archery. Phone: (807) 876-2801 P.O. Box 368 - Longlac, Ontario POT 2A0 info@lochlomond.ca Includes . All taxes and bear export permit . Ontario non-resident bear license . Modern house-keeping cabin . 3D target (archery only) . Boat, motor and gas for every 2 or 3 people . Guaranteed - active bait . Skinning assistance and freezing of meat aird hide IpchLornond,Cam LONGLAC, ONTARIO lochlomondcamp.ca Bear Hunting t7
Page 1: --- - -- My first bear hunt ended 1

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