Grizz Stories

[Beendare]

I’ve had a few….

Heres one for the spray fans;

we were on a certain Island in Ak camped near an Outbound group ( Teenagers) they had a Gbear come into their camp while cooking and sprayed him…he ran off. They think it was the same bear that came back 20 min later charging in…sprayed again..but he charged right through the spray and mauled a kids real bad.

 

[Loo.wii]

A few years ago we were elk hunting western Wyoming. It was my Dad, brother and myself. The first night in camp I woke up to a grunting/deep breathing outside the tent. I laid on my cot just listening as it kept getting closer. The other 2 cowboys still very asleep had no idea what was happening. Finally I sat up and loudly said “HEY BEAR”. Startling my dad he burst out of his bag still half asleep runs towards the door of the tent and starts to unzip it. I ask him, what are you doing? He looked at me like I was half nuts and goes back to his cot. My smart aleck brother (his first wall tent hunt) sits up, turn on his light and asks, “what kind of camp you running out here?” Lol. We all kinda laughed, acted like the bear was no big deal and then laid in the darkness till dawn wide awake. After a few days we ran into a local cowboy checking his cattle and he told us a sow and 2 cubs have been in this area all year and to be very alert.

I’ve have run ins with black bears, a lion, deer and coyotes in camp, but this is the only grizz.

Lol I’ve heard this same story from a guy I met during first rifle. I think he said he’d never go back to grizzly country again.

 

[Valumpessa]

Just started reading "Beyond the Bear" by Dan Bigly. Pretty incredible attack/survival story from Alaska.

 

[william schmaltz]

I was cleaning up camp after a hunt while my buddy was flying meat/gear back to town. I shot a grizzly on day one of the hunt and we saw a couple a day throughout the hunt. We had a fresh moose kill on the river about 100 yards from the tent from the day before. I was inside our cook shelter packing up gear with my rifle leaned against a tree outside. It was a blue bird, very cold, calm, and quiet morning and spirits were high after a very successful hunt. That's when a fury of leaves and pure chaos came ripping down the bluff behind camp. The whole ordeal was about 2-3 seconds. I never bothered looking to see what was barreling at me while I lunged for my rifle; it seemed only one thing would make that much commotion, let alone right towards camp. I got my rifle in hand and I finally turned to defend myself from the noise that was basically right at my feet at this point and there was a ball of four mother f***ing squirrels fighting. Anyways, I've had a handful of close calls from grizzly bears, but that's probably the closest I've been to dyeing from a "grizzly". My heartrate must've hit 300 bpm.

I had a couple morning PBRs and calmed back down. Spent the rest of the morning like a midget at a urinal - on my toes.

 

[AKBC]

I came around a corner on the trail and a brownie and my submissive black lab were in a stare down about 40 yards ahead. So I killed the bear, have a nice hide on the wall to my right, and the dog at my feet. The end.

 

[MTtrout]

I used to hunt spring bear in an area with high grizzly population. One morning we were hiking up a small canyon and noticed off to our side a cow elk was running through an aspen stand chasing two other animals. As they ran out into the open sage she was chasing a grizzly and the grizzly was chasing her calf. When the calf hit a little depression it was just enough for the grizzly to catchup. One bite was all it took. As the grizzly stood there over the calf the cow just ran circles around the bear letting out a distress call I’ve never heard before. After observing that kind of speed and power we decided it was best to slip out and don’t watch the feast.

Another time in the general area we were on a glassing nob watch two grizzlies rummage around in the sage far apart and out of sight from one another. It was midday so we decided to take a nap. My friend woke us up and said what’s that noise. We all looked up and the further off bear came in to the one closer to us and they were in the middle of an epic braw. They would get up on their hind legs and just club and bit the heck out of each other’s necks. The one would run and the other would checkup and have at it again. It was like watching a movie in slow mo as their skin and fur shook with every move. The one that was apparently the most dominant would walk around the other shaking his back end, guessing he was either peeing or defecating to mark his territory. The reason why we hunted they was because the black bears were big, probably because if they were not, the grizzlies would kill them. One time my friend setup on a nice bear eating and was seconds away from pulling the trigger and it took off. Out of know where a sow griz and second year cub came out of the timber and ran it off.

While I loved seeing grizzlies being grizzlies we know longer hunt there due to the hassle and pressing our luck with grizzlies. Pulled some nice moose sheds out of that spot but I have no interest in hunting bears in there anymore. I do look forward to taking my family back in there one of these days to pick up a few more sheds and to show the boys some grizzlies

 

[Hoosker Doo]

From 2016 to 2019 I lived in griz country, Wyoming, and despite seeing tracks and sign every time I'd be out and about in the hills, I only ever had one confrontation, and it happened in my front yard.
Our house was part of a subdivision that was strung up the side of side of the mountain along a 2 mile, curvy road that ended at national forest. We lived about halfway up the hill in the middle of the sage brush and 300 yards above the town's airstrip a good mile from the timber.
One evening, the first week of November, I'm butchering my wife's whitetail buck downstairs next our big inward swinging double doors (that sometime didn't latch properly) and watching some TV. I had finished boning it out, threw the bones and carcass out the door and was starting to trim, when I catch movement outside the door next to me. A sow and 2 cubs came around the corner of the house and started tearing into the carcass I had just thrown out. (My neighbor had throw a moose carcass a couple hundred yards below our houses a week before to shoot coyotes off, so I guess that brought them in, and it was just bad timing)
These bears are about ten yards away, and the doors between us could probably be kicked in by a small child. So I decided run upstairs and enjoy the show from above. I yell at my beautiful wife to grab her phone to get some pictures because we've got griz. She comes in, throws me her phone, takes one look, and runs to get a gun. We had a two year old son at the time and she was babysitting 3 other boys 5 years old and under at our house every day, spending hours outside in the yard and felt this was a direct threat.
I'm still just amazed that there are bears in the yard and try to calm her down a little. Then mama bear hears my TV downstairs and charges at the house! She skids to a stop right in front of our big 10 foot window. Not, wanting her to attempt to come through the glass, I rip the widow I'm looking through open and start yelling. Mom and cubs go trundling off straight down the hill into the dark.
I go back to my butchering, still in shock, but not 5 minutes later, around the house they come from the uphill side of the house and continue to decimate the carcass. I run back upstairs grab the gun from my wife whose ready to eliminate the intruder (I wasn't going to take any chances losing my future hunting privileges), and decide I better get these bears going on their way. I pop the upstairs window open once again, at the pop sound, the sow charges the house again right up to the siding below me. I couldn't believe it!
So I start barking at her to leave and they whirl and take off, but this time I put a couple shots into the dirt road behind them to keep them moving.
The next few minutes of clearing my yard of bones and scraps was pretty nerve wracking. I backed the truck up and had my 10 mm in my hand and had my wife perched in the upstairs window with the 12 guage with slugs, hoping she wouldn't circle back for a third time.
Never saw them again, but each morning for the next 5 days, in the fresh skiff of snow that came in the nights, were fresh tracks where they would come to the yard, sniff around then leave. It was a real treat starting my truck each morning and having to go into my open ended, pole barn garage with a light and 10 mm at the ready, hoping they weren't denned up in there.

 

[Burnsie]

I was elk bowhunting in Idaho (Salmon-Challis area) with my brother and dad. I was slowly sneaking down the mountain - it had snowed during the night, but it was now mostly melted - everything was soft and wet, you could walk almost silently. I came across a well used wallow and decided it would be a great spot to sit for the afternoon. It had only been a few minutes since deciding to sit on the wallow - I was quietly clearing a bare spot on the ground for my feet when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye to my right. I instinctively readied my bow in anticipation of an elk. When I looked, a realized it was a large bear about 30-45 yds away on the opposite side of the wallow. I'm thinking "just be cool, it doesn't know you're here". As I'm watching the bear I notice more movement to my right and then see 2 puff ball cubs catching up to mom. Oh boy, now I'm a little more concerned knowing the cubs added to the mix was a bad combo, but they were still unware of my presence. That lasted for a few seconds and she must have caught my scent, she immediately turned and tried to ID me. I was kind of tucked in next to a pine tree, so not right out in the open. Then she stood up and started huffing and grunting and bobbing her head up and down. I'm thinking, Holy ....it this could get dicey with her having cubs (at least I wasn't between her and the cubs). All kinds of things were racing through my head - am I going to be another bear statistic? I just stood perfectly still with tension on the string of my recurve, I figured if she decided to make a true run at me I was going to try and drive an arrow in her chest and hope for the best (no side arm or spray). Fortunately, after a bit of huffing and puffing she dashed up the mountain with her two cubs in tow. My adrenaline was pumping at that point, I immediately decided, "'I'm getting the heck out of here". I quietly started sneaking down the mountain in the opposite direction trying to put as much distance between me and the bears. I was watching my back trail all the way to camp. When I got to camp, I was jabbering a 100 mph telling my dad and brother the story. I was still pretty wired. That one will be etched in my brain for life.

 

[Rusty Shackelford]

Following

 

[grfox92]

September 2021 NW WY Archery Elk.

Started heading up the mountain at first light, hiking through single track engulfed by elderberry. Literally had to step over pile after pile of bear chit.

About 5 miles into that hike at around 9 am we came sidehilling out of the timber to cross an avalanche chute. My buddy was looking up the chute and I could tell by the look on his face and his body language before he could say Bear. I looked up and there was a sow with 3 cubs coming down the avalanche chute straight at us at 100 yards.

She had no idea we were there and was only getting closer so I ran out into the clearing and starting waving my arms over my head and yelling at her. She darted back towards the timber immediately, stopped just at the edge and turned to look at what was making all the noise. She locked on us and started bounding towards us.

Spray and pistols were out, and we both continued yelling and waving our arms. She made bounded down the hill, straight at us, doing that sideways run that they do with all 3 cubs bopping along behind her. And just like that she spun and entered the timber about 50 yards from us.

2022, Early November, NW WY. Rifle Mule Deer.

I was after my first mule deer, last day of rifle season. We glasses up a branch antlers buck exactly a mile away, across the river. He was working his way up a little ridge. We figured he was going to bed and made a plan. Hiked straight down, across the river and followed out pre-planned route. The buck wound up feeding back down the ridge into an old burn / meadow. I shot him at 210 yards. He didn't go down and a small rodeo ensued with 2 more shots taken from 200 and one taken from point blank, we never got to do an autopsy to figure out why.

We knew where we were and how bad the bear situation is, so we knew we had to work fast. I got to work breaking him down right away while my partner got out game bags and kept an eye out for bears. Yes there are so many bears in this area that they will be on a carcass sometimes before you get there, and you need a look out. Good thing we had a look out....

I had the whole buck broken down, and in game bags in 20 minutes from the last shot I took. As I was working out the last Backstrap, my partner screamed "BEAR! BEAR! BEAR!"

I jumped up to look and there was a lone bear (boar) running FULL SPEED dead at us at 80 yards and closing fast. I grabbed spray off my harness and he had his 10mm out and we started waving our hands over our head and SCREAMING at this guy. He seemed unphased. When he got to 40 yards he spotted us and spun, ran 10 yards parallel and stopped and faced us. I kept screaming "get out of here bear" and all this kind of stuff. He ran 20 yards back and stopped to face us, we expected him to charge every time he did this. He did this routine about 5 times until he disappeared into a small stand of timber about 100 yards away.

We loaded the buck on out packs and got out of Dodge. We crossed back over the river and up the steep nastiness we hiked down to get to him and made it back to our original glassing spot. We set up the spotter and that bear was sleeping on the carcass we had just left 1 hour ago.

I think what saved us from that bear being on top of us was he was running slightly uphill at us and through old burn. The craziest thing to me was he came in with the wind at his back from the exact spot we had hiked through just before shooting the buck. Meaning he was coming running full speed, towards the sound of my gun shots.

That was our 3rd day going in that trail head. Over the previous 2 days we saw 2 guys come out with bucks, they both had mix ups with Grizzlies while they were in there.

I expect this type of thing to happen every year unless I draw a tag that takes me out of the immediate area. The bears are just so dense there is no escaping them. They are everywhere.

Call me crazy but I love it. I love being around them and I love the action. It's a thrill for sure.


Sent from my SM-G990U using Tapatalk

 

[Gen273]

Great thread, thanks for the stories!

 

[adventure907]

Saw a guy who's face got removed by a bear, worst thing I've ever seen.

Want an adrenaline packed bear hunt? Hunt Southeast Alaska brown bears in the fall on the salmon streams. Close quarters is an understatement.

 

[Brandon.miller.4]

These stories are great. I can't get over the difference in behavior between grizz and coastal browns. The browns that I've experienced exhibit almost none of these traits. They're much more laid back (full of salmon) and fairly calm. Had one big boar charge straight at me and a group of 3 clients salmon fishing a tidal flat...turns out he wasn't charging us but rather the 15 dead salmon 10 ft from us. 2 shots to the water in front of him stopped him in his tracks. The shocking part is how unphased he was. He just sat there with water stringing from his fur looking at us for what seemed like and eternity, then slowly lumbered off. Amazing creatures, but deserve much respect.

 

[Elk97]

Nothing too scary but any encounter with a griz gets your attention. I was walking an old road about 7 miles in, looking for grouse during the middle of the day (Sept in MT). Caught movement to my left and a young bear came out of the trees onto the road about 20-25 yds away. Nice looking bear, honey blond with dark feet, but small enough (200-250lbs?)that momma could have been right behind. I started yelling at him while getting my revolver out. He just stood and stared at me, didn't budge an inch. After about 30 seconds or so, it slowly turned around and walked back the way it had come, staring at me all the time. Just before entering the trees, it stopped and gave me one last long stare before disappearing into the thick brush. Of course I had to go right past there to get back to camp.
The next day my oldest son and his dog were walking on another road in the same area when the dog whipped around and growled before charging back down the road. There was a griz walking (stalking?) toward them about 30 yds away. The dog broke off the charge about 10 yards from the bear and came back. The bear walked into the brush, not too perturbed by the dog's charge. Don't like to think what might have happened if the dog wasn't there.

 

[JBrown1]

*My grizzly story is buried in the middle of this overly long hunt report. I could have pasted the bear encounter portion, but I didn’t want to lose the context.”

Two years ago, on our annual Thanksgiving hunt on POW Island, Renee mentioned that going after dall sheep was her dream hunt. She was only 10 at the time, but seeing that I have dragged her along on nearly every hunt that I have taken since the time she was a toddler, I figured that a youth sheep hunt would be a fair reward for all of the hardships that she has had to endure to make my hunts possible.

The plan was to land in the Brooks Range several days before the five day youth season to scout the area, then spend the duration of the season getting her on a legal ram. Covid set us back a year when the transporter closed for the 2020 season. So when we landed in Bettles, this hunt was 22 months in the making. The extra time gave Renee a chance to get in a lot more practice with her 257 Roberts(a sweet little M700 mountain rifle, courtesy of Mark and Sadie Young), and to take her first big game animal: a caribou bull that she pole-axed with one shot at 200 yards with the temperature at 20 below. I knew that she was ready when we finally left Fairbanks on July 27th.

After being stuck in Bettles for 5 days due to weather, we finally flew into the mountains with the season half over. To call it frustrating would be an understatement. But all that was forgotten as we flew through some famous peaks and past some unique glaciers that I immediately recognized, having seen them many times in classic books by guys like Bob Marshal and some of my other heros.

The first day we hiked to the mouth of a side valley that we had wanted to hunt. It had been raining for most of a week, so crossing the tundra was even more fun than usual. We found a couple of ram skulls on the tundra just below our spike camp. They were victims of the harsh springs that the Brooks has seen the last couple of years. We were too tired to cook, so a couple of handful of trail mix, and a power bar washed down ice cold creek water and we settled in for the night.

We lived in this area a few years ago when I was teaching in a village. I was amazed to see that the mountains were even taller and more beautiful and the colors more vivid than I remembered. But the thing that struck me the most was how I had forgotten what it was like to sleep on the tundra: natures own memory foam.

On the morning of the second day the fog finally lifted in the main valley, and for the first time we could put the spotting scope to use. We ate breakfast and downed handfuls of blueberries that grew within arms reach of our glassing spot in front of our tent. The side valley that we planned to hunt was still hidden in thick fog, so I decided that we would glass the main valley through the morning instead of heading in blindly.

I knew that the rain swollen river in the main valley was most likely impassible, so there was no point in glassing for sheep on the far side. But a couple of hours into the morning I found myself staring through the scope at a sheep trail on a peak several miles away, high above the river on the far side of the valley. I looked past the trail to a peak that was even further away. I chuckled to myself as my mind played a trick and turned a light colored boulder into a sheep for about the 20th time. I thought about taking a break, as this time my brain was even adding details: this rock appeared to have legs.

It was at this moment that I realized that the rock was moving slowly across the mountain side. "Renee, I see a sheep." As we traded between the spotter and the 10 power binos, the fog hid the sheep several times before he stopped moving and bedded for the morning. It was clear that he was a ram, but there was no way to know if he was legal without getting a lot closer. I knew that the river would present a major obstacle, not to mention the miles of soaked tundra and the thousands of vertical feet of that lay between us. But I was happy to see a sheep, and knowing that we had put our eyes on a ram felt like a minor victory.

I planned to break our spike camp and head into the side valley to look for a more accessible ram. Renee disagreed. I told her that getting to the sheep would take a full day, if we could even get up to him there was no guarantee that he was legal. I made it plain, "trying for that sheep will require a couple of days total. Legal or not, our season will be finished".

She held fast: "We only have two days either way. We should try for him."

It was her hunt, so I allowed her to make the call. We broke camp and headed back up the valley to get out of view of the ram before heading down to the river and trying to find a safe place to cross. I figured that if we couldn't cross tonight, we would camp near the river and try crossing in the morning when the river would be at it's lowest.

I could bore you with the details, but the bottom line is we could not cross the river that night and we spent majority of the next day slogging up river hoping in vain to find a crossing. The day was made memorable by wet feet, bugs and constant discomfort. By the time evening came we were within a mile of the lake where the floatplane had dropped us off two days before. Renee never complained and was still smiling when we made it to some willows that held a clear stream that we could drink from.

I hoped that the clear weather would hold til morning so that we might be able to spend the last day of the season glassing for sheep. A stiff north wind blew up the valley and played hell with our dinner preparations. The only thing that could act as a wind break was the band of stunted willows near the creek where we had fetched water. As we ate dinner, I told Renee that we would have to pitch our tent in the willows near the creek and that we could glass the valley in the morning. I figured that we would spend two nights there so that we could maximize our hunting time before the floatplane returned the day after the season.

As I waited for Renee finished her dinner, I broke out the spotting scope to glass the up the mountain that rose behind us. I wasn't seriously glassing and didn't even get out the tripod, instead I laid prone and rested it across my pack. Renee stood above me with the binoculars.

I was trying fumbling to locate a particular landmark on the mountain when Renee said "Dad BEAR". Her voice was even and I began to ask "where" assuming she had seen a bear on the mountain side. As I formed the word Renee repeated, "Dad BEAR". Immediately I knew that there was a bear very near by.

 

[JBrown1]

Renee would later tell me that I seemed to levitate as I went from prone to standing in one motion. The details are somewhat clouded, but I know that I took a couple of steps towards the bear to retrieve my rifle which leaned on a stunted willow on the far side of our stove and backpacks. I had already begun to yell at the bear as I chambered a round and tossed the scope covers to the ground. I never put the saftey on.

The bear stood directly downwind, about 60 yards away at the edge of the willows that lined the creek. It was big, but not huge. Probably a 3 or 4 year old. It twisted up it's nose as as it peered at us, trying to figure out what we were. I could hear my voice, but it sounded far away and very different. Renee later said that she had never heard me sound so big and gruff. I was yelling "HEY BEAR! GET BACK BACK BEAR!"

I found the bear through the scope which was set on 2.5x. The crosshairs were steady, but I could feel every muscle in my backside and legs twitching. I don't know how to put it into words, but there was no fear for the outcome. As soon as I got the cross hairs on the bear, it bunched itself, made a bound, and came for us.

I felt an odd resignation that was something akin to "well ok, so this is happening" but with fewer words. And from there it my focus was on covering the bear as it charged into the open. Something told me to shoot for center mass as soon as the bear broke past a certain point. I would estimate that my line in the sand was about 20 yards in front of us. But the bear stopped half way across the opening. It sat on its ass about 30 yards away and scratched its ear like a dog. It was as though it had forgotten that we were there. I said something like "holy shit!" to Renee, but she didn't reply. I could see that she was right next to me.

Without warning the bear rolled onto its feet and made another bluff charge. This one felt like an obvious bluff and it bounced on its front legs as though it was trying to look intimidating. It stopped at 20 yards then turned to walk away. It moved to the right and I recall seeing the crosshairs directly on its vitals as it walked almost broadside. It was no longer down wind when it stopped and looked directly at our food which laid a few yards to our right. Then it turned its attention to us. I knew that it was going to try to come again.

I felt like I was yelling "HEY BEAR! GET BACK BEAR!" the whole time, but Renee said that at this point I yelled "DON'T DO IT BITCH! I WILL ******* KILL YOU!" And I would have. My finger had already begun to pull the trigger, but the bear stopped the bluff as soon as it had made a single lurch. It looked at us for a second, and for the first time it clacked its teeth. Then it turned to walk away.

It had only gone a few steps when it broke into a run towards the willows as though it thought we might be chasing it. It glanced over its shoulder, then slowed and walked parallel to the creek. When it was about 60 yards away it lowered it's head and began to feed. It moved slowly away and uphill. It was feeding eagerly and had made almost a quarter circle around us. At this point I told Renee to screw the lid on the bear vault, and I wondered where my camera was.

The wind had died suddenly and the mosquitos began to swarm(Renee corrected me. According to her the wind had stopped the moment we saw the bear. She should know as she had a mosquito caught in her eye when the bear first charged). Renee and I exchanged a few words. She looked towards the willows that lined the creek and deadpanned, "Well that nixes THAT camping spot."

The bear was almost about 80 yards away, and slightly above us when it stopped feeding and half rose on its hind feet. It immediately dropped on all fours and made a very obvious bluff, followed by another. Neither brought it closer than about 70 yards. Again I was shouting and waving an arm while trying to keep it in the scope.

For the final time the bear turned and fed into the stunted willows. The bear had appeared mangy when I first saw it, but now I realized that it had a dark undercoat with beautiful silver guard hairs on its head, back and shoulders. I took a few photos and asked Renee if she was scared when the bear had charged. She said "No, I knew that you knew how to handle it, but I kept waiting for you to shoot. I can't stop shaking though, and I think that's why I need to pee." I'm not sure why she felt like I knew how to handle it. After a bit of coaxing she was able to relieve herself. Then I did the same.

We were able to watch it feed away for almost half an hour, before it disappeared into the willows near the creek for the final time. All of my photos of the bear were poor, as were all of the photos I took of the sun setting behind the high peaks. It was an unforgettable sunset.

I loaded our packs and we headed out into the open tundra. We pitched the tent and Renee was fast asleep in minutes. She had several bad dreams during the night but otherwise slept soundly. That far north the sun never fully sets in early August. I was able to witness this first hand...

The adrenaline must not have worn off when we had hiked into the open the night before, because we had a long walk back to the bear vaults in the morning. We found that the bear had returned during the night, scratched and chewed on the containers, crushed my titanium pot and tore up a couple of carry mesh bags. There was still saliva on a few items, but we never saw the bear again.

There were no more sheep and the rest of the trip went smoothly. We were concerned about being caught in an incoming storm. but we got out just in time. We were surprised and pleased when a Beaver landed on the lake to pick us up, instead of the Cessna that we had expected. Renee and I have wanted to fly in a beaver ever since our first trip to Alaska when we watched them on the Nushagak River while fishing with Scott King.

This was the trip of a lifetime, sheep or no sheep. And one that we will always remember.

Renee and I talked sheep and sheep hunting a lot before we left, but while we were out there she caught a case of sheep fever. Now any time she sees a picture of a sheep, or a mount, she is counting rings and judging the curl and mumbling, "yep! Definitely legal!" or "darn, not quite there. Maybe another year...."

I would love to do it again, but the truth is that the sheep in the Brooks Range are in bad shape. During our hunt, an acquaintance who has a ton of sheep hunting experience was hunting with his young daughter about a hundred miles to the East. They only saw 4 sheep during the five days they were out. He said that he has never seen it so bad.

So if anyone has a line on a good transporter in a different range, please drop me a PM. Renee and I are already dreaming of next year.
Jason

*Looking back on this encounter with a couple of years to reflect, I’m glad that it happened. As far as this bear and grizzlies in general, I see this as bullying behavior. The bear smelled a calorie dense food source in its territory and was determined to claim it. Luckily not too determined...

 

[Theringworm]

Great story JBrown1.

One additional Brown Bear story that occurred on my same moose trip I mentioned before. It was the only personal encounter I had where I felt threatened.

Day 1 of my moose hunt I tagged out. The guide and packer moved all of the meat and head back to camp which was about 5-600 yds from the river. The next morning we got up and shuttled the moose and camp down to the river bar where we would await for the super cub to ferry us out.

I still had a black bear tag so my guide said we should take the hide into the willows, South of the meat and gear, where he would work on the cape some more while I kept guard over the meat and/or possibly get a shot at a black bear that tend to cruise the river bank. Sounded like a good plan.

We were about 40-50 yds away from the meat. An hour or so had passed when all of a sudden I see a brown bear come up from the river bank just North of the meat and gear. I instantly inform my guide and packer of the sighting. First bear I have ever seen in the wild. My adrenaline was pumping. The wind was blowing East to West so he had not smelled us nor the meat at this point. We stayed seated with rifles in hand waiting and hoping that he would just move on off. He appeared to be a young boar to me, and later confirmed by my guide. The type that think they are hot stuff and have something to prove.

He began moving in a Southward direction that would put him down wind of the moose. As though we were watching this play out in slow motion, you instantly knew when he caught wind of the meat. His head twisted around back to the East so quick, head down, nose working, salivating. At that point the guide says, “let’s go”. We getup, safeties off and position ourselves in between him and the meat all while yelling and throwing rocks at him. Like a useless city boy tool, I have my rifle in my left hand pressed against my shoulder, and iPhone in the right hand trying to film. After one WTF! are you doing look from my guide and my instant realization I a compete idiot, the phone was gone.

The boar is now up on its hind feet, clapping his jaws. It was very very loud. Saliva is being flung everywhere. Without notice he drops to all 4’s and is coming. He was originally about 40 yds out so it wasn’t far. My hand on is on the trigger, just waiting for the guide to give the go ahead. Suddnely the bear stops. 20-25 yds out. Once again clapping his jaws, bouncing up and down on his front paws. The last bounce with his front paws in the air you instantly got this feeling he was coming again, and he did. Simultaneously my guide explosively lunged forward countering his advance with taking a step towards him. The bear instantly whirled around and turned back into the trees. Not sure what distance my guide would have let him get before firing, but I would have shot sooner due to my inexperience. Once in the trees the bear did stand and sort of acknowledge his defeat before he walked off. at that point I grabbed the phone and was able to snap a pic.

 

[Beendare]

Saw a guy who's face got removed by a bear, worst thing I've ever seen.

Want an adrenaline packed bear hunt? Hunt Southeast Alaska brown bears in the fall on the salmon streams. Close quarters is an understatement.

Was it this guy….pic is on my Ak pilot buddies phone…a friend of his friend on the peninsula. He had to ride a Quad out about 20 miles to a road like that.

 

[Beendare]

I’ve had those dang bears screw up a couple hunts…we were backpacked in to a spot bowhunting elk within 15 miles of YNP….and this posse rides up to us with a G&F warden….what the heck?

They said we had to leave the forest….some bowhunter in the next canyon wounded a G bear on his hike out the night before.

 

[AK Troutbum]

I’ve had several close, and not too pleasant, experiences with grizzly/brown bears, but my scariest experience (and probably the scariest experience of my life), was an incident on Kodiak Island about 17 years ago.
My wife’s out of state uncle and I flew down to Kodiak for a two week deer hunt in October 2006. We ended up getting dropped off on the backside of a lagoon about a 45 minute flight from the town of Kodiak. We were the only ones there at that time and we quickly pitched a large camp to avoid the possibility of weather coming in and catching us by surprise. We had brought an electric bear fence, but it was only big enough to go around our 6 person Alaskan Guide Dome and XL vestibule, so the rest of our camp, which consisted of two large, cooking and just hanging out under, shelters were unprotected. It took us probably close to an hour to get things set up the way we wanted and pitching our tent up against the side of a hill for weather protection. Then, about 30 minutes later, we had a bear in camp. It was just an adolescent that was curious and decided that he, or she, would try and test us a little. The bear worked its way up to within about 15 yards of camp, and after multiple gun shots at its feet, yelling and rock throwing, it stopped behind a big log of driftwood. I told Dan that if it came any further to go ahead and shoot it, and aim for its head. Fortunately for us, and the bear, it put its two front feet on the log, then ended up turning around and meandering away.
Our camp just happened to be about 200 yards away from a stream that had a silver run, so we ended up seeing bears every day that would come in and fish at the mouth of the stream.
Fast forward about eight or nine days, and a plane flies in with a group of hunters, and they end up pitching camp about a mile or so, around and on the other side of the lagoon from us. We had already killed our limit of five deer (three for me, and Dan had filled the two tags that he had purchased), but we had hung them all from a meat pole, a couple miles from camp, in the area that we had killed them. We ended up spending the second to our last day, hauling meat into camp from that meat pole. That day we also watched, through the spotting scope, a couple of guys from the other camp, kill a deer, and and start breaking it down. As we were watching them, we could see a bear coming in on the hillside, heading directly towards them, but there was no way of warning them, because they were over a mile away from us. Fortunately, for them, they were able to get things cleaned up just in time and started packing the deer off the side of the mountain, as the bear came into their kill sight.

That evening we used our sat phone, to call our operator, and tell them that we were all ready to go for our pick up the next day. We were informed that there was a big storm coming in later that night, the remnants of a typhoon in the Pacific, that was expected to bring very heavy winds and a lot of rain. They told us that they would not be able to pick us up the next day, and that we should make sure that everything was button down tight in preparation for the storm. We spent the rest of that evening, staking everything down and taking the deer meat off of our makeshift meat pole, and wrapping it up in a tarp, then piling rocks on top, to keep any rainwater out.
The storm ended up rolling in at around 7 or 8 o’clock that night, and we spent the better part of the next three or four hours just trying to fall asleep. I can remember trying to talk to Dan, as we were laying in the tent, and the rain and wind being so fierce that I had to practically yell at him, even though he was laying right next to me.

I woke up the next morning at around 6 o’clock (it was still pitch black outside and lightly raining), to the sound of a bear breathing/huffing around our tent. I told Dan that we had a bear in camp, and we needed to move. We quickly got up, donned our rain gear and headlamps, and headed out to try and drive the bear out of camp. By the time we got outside of the tent, the bear was gone. We found that our meat pile had been shredded, and all of our deer meat was gone. By the time it got light enough out, we could see where the bear had taken all of our game bags up the side of a hill, that our tent was pitched up against, and had cached everything on top of the hill. You could see where the bear had ripped up the side of the hill where it was dragging the meat up to cache it.
While Dan covered me, I climbed up the side of the hill and threw all of the dirty, torn up game bags, back down onto the beach, then we quickly waded out into the lagoon and thru the meat out as far as we could, to get it as far away from camp as possible. My thought at the time was that the bear would eventually come back to find all of the meat gone, and it would leave as well. We then went ahead and called our transporter to tell them that we were still ready to go whenever they could come to pick us up, but that a bear had come in and took all of our meat the previous night.

That night, just before dark, two bears came in on the hillside looking for their meat cache. We contemplated killing them at that point, because they were only about 50 yards from camp, and there was still plenty of shooting light. They appeared very agitated about the whole situation, popping their jaws, and occasionally going back-and-forth down the side of the hill towards our camp, but not actually coming into camp. For this reason, I opted not to kill them, in the hopes that they would eventually just leave. We gathered up a bunch of driftwood to build a large fire, just in case they decided to come into camp, we could hopefully keep them out with a big bonfire.
Unfortunately, just after dark that night, the bears came in. We loaded a mountain of driftwood on top of the bonfire, but it made no difference whatsoever. The bears would split off and come at us from opposite directions while we would be back to back, firing our rifles at their feet, yelling at them, and throwing burning pieces of wood at them, but nothing worked. We had only brought two rifles on this hunt, and both had fixed scopes, and it was impossible to make out any definitive part of the bear, in the dark, looking through the scope of the rifle. We didn’t want to shoot one of them, not absolutely knowing that we could kill it, and we thought that having a wounded bear in camp would be much worse than not, so we only fired rounds into the gravel in front of them. This whole situation went on until almost 10 o’clock, when we decided that we couldn’t continue to waste ammunition, and figured that our best course of action was just to go into the tent, and hope that the bear fence would do its job and keep them out. We sat at the back of the tent, against the hillside, with our rifles locked and loaded and pointing in the direction that we could hear the bears. We figured that they wouldn’t come up and around the side of the hill, and down into our tent, so we thought that if they did come in, it would be in only one of three directions. The bears would fight and carry on right outside the tent, and we could occasionally hear them tearing up other parts of our camp, while we waited inside the tent, expecting them to come in at any moment. I remember telling Dan that, whatever happened and if this all went to shit, just to make sure and keep our rifles pointed away from each other, so that we didn’t end up shooting each other. This went on up until about 2 o’clock in the morning, and after about an hour or so, of not hearing them anymore, we started hearing gun fire from across the lagoon in the other camp. We were pretty wiped out from the last almost 24 hours of no sleep and having not had anything to eat, plus our adrenaline being pumped up for the last several hours, and we eventually just fell asleep.
We woke up the next morning to find our camp had been destroyed, but felt incredibly fortunate that they did not come into our tent. I went ahead and called our operator again to let him know that we were having serious problems with two bears, that we hadn’t had much sleep in the last couple days, and we didn’t know what to do at that point. He said that he would call the state troopers and for us to call him back in an hour, but that there was another storm coming in, and he would not be able to pick us up that day. Upon calling him back an hour later, he stated that the troopers said “it was the bears problem, and we needed to do whatever we had to, to deal with it, and be safe”.
We decided that it was probably time to take a hike and go meet our neighbors around the other side of the lagoon, to find out how they had fared the previous night. As it turned out, there were 7 of them in their camp, and the bears had also visited them, and taken two of their deer. Fortunately they had put all four deer back straps into a cooler, that the bears didn’t find and get to. We explained our experiences from the two previous nights, and we all came to an agreement, that we would spend that day, moving our camp over to their camp, so as to have more safety in numbers. That evening we all ate fresh grilled blacktail backstrap tacos, and after almost 2 days of not eating anything, I think that was one of the best meals I’ve ever had.

To be continued.


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