Went back to that same spot and had a bear walk up to within 15 yards of me then run down and sit in the exact spot i shot that bear last Saturday. His breathing is what alerted me to his presence. Yikes.
Hunted the morning of the rain and it pains me to say, I missed the biggest buck I’ve ever seen while hunting. Was in thick brush uphill 60-70 yards. All I could see was his head and rack. Heavy horned about 22-24” wide. True giant. Old white faced relic of a buck. Tried an off hand shot with the long range rig. Tried to squeeze through the brush into his neck and it didn’t work out. Watched him run off as I scrambled to find my next round and get it chambered. Found a big shed a bit later not too far away. Don’t know if it was his but the shed shows genetic line in this area.
So after hunting that long depressing day I get up with the “it’s only up from here” attitude. Thinking things “can’t get any worse”, I confidently assure myself that “I’m going to kill one today”. First light I Hike to the glassing point, take a quick trip to the brush to do business and file paperwork and as I’m putting my shittickets back in my pack I look up the ridge and see something worth putting binos on immediately. But it’s not a deer. Pan right and bam, a decent buck. Set up gun on pack. Scramble for ranger, hit it, 417. Ok dial 2min and settle crosshairs. He’s about two steps from gone through the entire 2minute drill and I for whatever reason convince myself to take a hard quartering away shot. Was super calm and steady, squeezed and watched him take one to the hide quarters, then hear the smack report back. He immediately goes out of sight behind a big bushy oak and doesn’t show himself again. It’s a long hike up and on the way I stopped to give the ol lady a heads up that I had hit one and was going to look for it and may be headed home that day. Gave it a solid hour and a half before getting to the spot and finding his tracks with no blood guts or hair. So I follow his tracks side hill for maybe 15 yards and he starts a hard downhill stagger. Thinking to myself “this is looking good” I keep on them but still no blood. Then he hits a trail and side hills again. This time he doesn’t stagger off and go down. He keeps his feet and crests the ridge in a saddle about 100yards from the shot and heads into the deep timber. Still no blood but now his tracks are headed straight downhill and easy to follow as he’s staggering and plowing through blowdowns. What I’d say was about 300yds in I finally find some blood. I lose the trail a couple times but get back on it fairly quick and then locate a bed with blood in it. Then downhill again. Spotty and watery blood was found here and there but his tracks were the main focus. I find two more beds. Ive now made my way from 4200ft down to about 3400ft where I lose his tracks amongst a sea of other fresh deer tracks. I decide to head down to an old logging break 15yds below to eat and drink something as it was now nearing 3pm. I go to set my stuff down thinking this may be the end of the trail and I almost sit in blood. So after a snack and drink I’m back on blood and tracks. Follow em to where his tracks leave another bloody bed and they are covered up by bear tracks. His tracks show he scrambles uphill and his blood starts pumping. I find hair clumps on the ends of broken branches he plowed through as he ran from this bear. The tracks show he made it over the finger ridge and then downhill fast and hard with bear in hot pursuit. The bear was cutting a slightly different path than his as he was probably trying to cut him off. Finally down near the 28-2900ft range all the tracks seemingly disappeared and it was now 4pm. At a loss and with a steep long hike out I made the call to turn around and head back towards the ridge top to give the bad news to the ol lady and then walk back down to the truck in the dark. I hunted the next day n a half with super sore legs and shoulders only seeing two does and that dang bear again.
This season has been a tough one for me as I’ve lost two bucks and missed two. This 6day trip was tough in particular because I was basically stuck with all the negativity I’m my head and aside from a couple short calls (with poor cell service) to the ol lady I didn’t have any way to get away from it. Everything that happened was because of my decision to shoot when I maybe should have waited or not shot at all. I’m still not sure why I took the hard quartering away shot or why I tried to headshoot a trophy deer off hand with a big heavy lr rig. Buck fever or not I usually have more patience and make better decisions. Shooting that smaller bear is another example. I just haven’t been able to stay off the trigger and don’t know why.
Anyway here’s some pics


This bear sitting here saying “you could have had all my meat in your freezer instead of the little you got from being impatient”.


A close look at this one (looking down from where the buck I crippled stood) shows I could have shot him from where I parked my truck.
