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What are the Chances?

A do-it-yourself bear hunter experiences the highs and lows of the hunt.

by: Eric Forsyth

Two years earlier a friend told me if I drew in the lottery he would let me bear hunt on his property. From baiting to providing a stand, he did everything for me that year. When the season was over my friend shook my hand, smiled and told me I was on my own now.

Like many northern Minnesota bear hunters, I couldn’t wait for the 2007 opener. Since I didn’t own my own hunting land, I needed to start early to scout and secure bait sites.

First, I visited Kevin who owned approximately 100 acres. This potential area would be a good start since I had shot my first bear not far away. I was granted permission and my friend wished me the best of luck.

A few days later I went over to speak with Dave who lived along the border of state land. He assured me that bears were common in the area, and was kind enough to show me the main driving trails.

I started walking the trails looking for the best entrance and escape routes; not for the bears but for me. The acorns weren’t plentiful as this particular stretch of state land was predominately pines trees; however, the berries were. After three hours of scouting I picked my site.

I was lucky on Kevin’s property, as he had already placed a stand a year earlier in an area that I believed would be perfect. I could place the bait 15 yards away. No such luck on state land. I had a ladder stand that was not getting much use so I shortened the stand to ten feet, and place it against a tree that would be ten yards from where I would place the bait.

I sat in each stand and imagined the possibilities. I immediately began questioning whether my baits were going to be too close. Truth be told, the thought of a bear coming in that close was a bit frightening.

When baiting was permitted, I was eager and diligent every morning to check for hits at my bait stations. Kevin’s property was the first to get hit. After viewing my first field photos, I hoped larger bears and more of them would come in before the opener and on the fourth day the bait was hit by a decent size bear that did come in early. I was getting excited now.

Just before the opener I had secured some hooks for my bow and pack for the hunt. After climbing down from my stand I spotted to the left of me two black fury balls running straight towards me. Without hesitation, I high-tailed it right back up the ladder stand. As I looked to see how close the bears were getting, they had made a ninety-degree turn and ran away from me. Talk about a rush.

I shared this close encounter with Dave and he thought they would be back later that night. I went back to the site and quietly set up a camera, but they did not come back that night.

My bait station on Kevin’s property had been hit four times in six days, so my opener was going to start right there. I was in the stand by 4:30 p.m. and sat there until it was completely dark. I did this routine four days in a row, and no bears came in during the daylight hours. I did not get discouraged and my spirits remained high since the season was still early.

On the morning after the fourth night, I visited my other bait site on state land. Finally, a hit 18 days after I starting baiting. The camera photos showed a sow and her cub. I figured they were the same two that scared me back up in my stand a few days earlier. It was time to start sitting at this bait station.

For the next four evenings no bears came in early, and it was hit and miss when my bait did have a visit from a bear in the late hours. Other than the sow and her cub, one other bear did come in.

One evening I heard a snap directly behind me. I didn’t move a muscle. Then I heard a sniffing sound. I counted each time this animal took a sniff; five. Then I heard another snap and the animal was leaving to the right. I turned slowly to see if I could get a glimpse, but the foliage was too thick. I only hoped it wasn’t me that caused this animal to leave.

Two evenings later I was quietly getting ready to leave. As always, I would take one last look behind me before climbing down. There’s one right there! The bear was sniffing the ground like a buck after a hot doe.

I just sat back down and figured I would have to be quiet and wait while this bear feasted on the buffet presented that night. The bear then turned back around and was leaving still sniffing the ground. It was time to make my escape.

About halfway between my stand and the trail, all of a sudden just ten yards in front of me a bear climbed a tree. With a bright gray sky in the background it was easy to see the bear was staring directly in my direction.

This was no cub, but I couldn’t help think this bear might have been the one in my photos along with big momma. Suddenly, the bear slid down the tree like a fireman on a fire pole and off it went. That was a neat sight, yet a scary experience.

Another three evenings later I finally had a bear come in early. The bear approached slowly as I quietly grabbed my bow and locked on my release. My heart was racing! The bear took long enough for me to relax and not hear my own heart pounding through my chest.

As the bear stood broad side over the logs and started licking them, I released my arrow and the bear bolted into the thickets. I scanned the ground to see if I could spot my arrow, and there it was, stuck in the ground. I could tell that it was not dripping blood. I had missed! My arrow went right over the bear’s back.

I climbed down very quietly, check my arrow which verified a miss and climb back into the stand, knocked a new arrow and waited.

About 15 minutes later the bear started approaching again. What is the chance of that? Eventually the bear took a wide left, turned around and headed back into shelter. I couldn’t help think the hunt was over for the evening, but I sat still and just waited.

The bear came back for the third time approximately 50 minutes later. Between taking turns sampling the variety of bait, the bear would raise its head and sniff the air. It took everything I had to remain calm. All I could do was wait patiently and watch the bait disappear. All I could do was remain still until that perfect bowshot presented itself.

Then the bear took some of the bait and walked away about 15 yards and ate it, behind a tree of course.

The bear did this a second time leaving too soon for me to release my arrow. Quickly planning a strategy, I’m going to have to release before the bear grabs more bait and runs away.

The bear approached again from the far side of the bait, paused, presented another perfect broad side shot and I released my arrow.

Later that evening a couple friends and I found a faint blood trail, tracked it and came to a spot where the bear had laid down. We spooked it. No more tracking that night.

The next morning after searching for two hours it was obvious I needed help. The foliage was so thick, I could have easily walk right by the bear and have never seen it. After a group of us did more searching, we determined it was a non-lethal flesh wound and the bear would survive. I was back to square one.

I only had to wait two days before the bait got hit again. When it was hit for the second consecutive night after my failed attempt, I needed to get back out there. My camera photos showed a respectable bear, one that I believe came in for the first time.

I sat out in my stand another evening with my bow, but no bears came in before dark.

The next morning, something came over me to take my gun instead of the bow. It was day 18 of the season and bears in northern Minnesota, as I have read, tend to go completely nocturnal by the end of September. With the leaves falling and daylight hours getting shorter, the hunting gets harder and harder. I had been neglecting my family and needed to do everything possible to fill my tag so I could spend more time with them.

That evening I was in my stand by 5:30 PM. The weather was cool, the sky was overcast and a good breeze. The breeze was coming from the east, so I would scan constantly to my left thinking a bear would approach from downwind. As I turned my head to scan the forest to the east of me, I spotted a bear slowly approaching. So much for the wind direction theory.

I took hold of my gun and got set. About 30 yards from the bait this bear decided to lye down. A few minutes later it took two more steps and laid down again. I didn’t know what was going on with this bear. The bear got back up making a wide turn to my left and started circling about 80 yards away, eventually headed west never giving me a good clear shot. I thought the bear is either going to cross the main road, or come in from behind me sniffing the wind.

I set my gun on its hook and got comfortable. I just looked straight ahead, only moving my eyes from side-to-side. Sure enough, out of the corner of my left eye the bear was approaching the bait just 10 yards away from me, and very slow. My heart was pumping full speed at this point. When the bear walked behind three pine trees I reached for my gun. The bear stopped. I halted. I wasn’t going to make one slight move until the bear started moving again. I can’t remember how long the bear stood still, but my arm started aching. I was going to suffer as long as it took. The bear finally stepped forward and I was able to bring my rifle around and rested the butt on my leg. I needed that rest, my arm was shaking from the agony.

The bear continued toward the bait, took one sniff and leaped over the pile of logs heading to cover where it first came. I wanted to shoot before this bear leaves for good. The bear stopped approximately 20 yards from the bait between two pine trees. I did not hesitate. I aimed, placed the cross hairs behind it’s right shoulder, slightly low and pulled the trigger. The bear spun around and went down. I appreciated the fact I only had to track the bear three feet this time.

I drove home and called a few friends for help as I wasn’t able to carry the bear out alone.

After taking some pictures a friend noticed something odd on the left side of the bear. He pulled the hair back and it was plain to see by everyone that there was an entrance wound from a broad head. We turned him over and there was the exit wound. A slight chill went through my body and an enormous feeling of gratitude came over me.

He was the same bear I had pierced six evenings ago. I was elated! What are the chances?

I couldn’t help think from time-to-time over those six days about the bear I had hit. I knew it would live but, like every ethical hunter, I didn’t like wounding an animal. I will never forget the feeling that came over me that night. A feeling too great to describe in words.

I now understand now what Steve was trying to teach me two years ago, and that is you learn best by doing it yourself. The reward is much sweeter, too.