Those are all monsters. Any back story to share? Have to believe there was more involved than a bear waddling towards you.
Not much of a writer but here's the best a simpleton can do. Had talked to Jake (Fletcher) a couple of years ago about going up to hunt, but life had gotten in the way and it was put on the back burner. Early in the year he reached out to me to see if I was available in May because the person he had booked had their life "get in the way". Talked to my angel of a wife. After some intense negotiation

I took the opportunity.
Flew into Kodiak a couple days early to be able to hang out to enjoy myself and see if the beer there tasted as good as it does at home... it did. Spent those days getting some last minute things, buying licenses, and meeting the fish and game folks. Wound up in town one more day than expected, weather wasn't flyable on 4/30. Was a 15 day hunt so didn't get too stressed and after the number of bears I wound up seeing the extra day didn't matter. Got dropped off May 1st and took the day to set up camp and get to get to know the guide and packer since we couldn't hunt. Great guys.
May 2nd was the first day of the "routine". Walk about a half mile to the glassing knob after breakfast around 8 am (ish) and get comfortable for the day. There was a rain fly, snacks, a jet boil for hot drips/soup. Pretty much everything needed to stay comfortable. On that thought, there were times when I'd look 3 different directions and see 3 different weather conditions. Sunny to the right, rain over the top of us, and snow to the left. Saying the weather on that island is unpredictable is an understatement. Regardless, the experience was without equal. We were seeing an average of about 8 bears a day.
Mid-day May 6th James spotted a bear and instantly said "lets go". Side note. That guy can see a bear miles away through a spotter and know instantly what it is, he's incredible. We get loaded up and are on our way. Got within what I felt was reasonable for a shot, as I WAS comfortable with the gun, and blew it. Clean miss, low. Was all I could do to not throw up and start walking back to town for the next 2 weeks. Spent the rest of the day sitting on a side hill pouting like a 12 yo that had her phone taken away.
Next morning it was decided that we make a cardboard box my next potential victim. Before I finish that thought let me say this. I had bought my 340 Weatherby 3 years ago and shot it often. Prior to this trip I shot it every other week for 3 months. It held a 1" group, 2" high at 100 yards and a 1.5" group about 1" high at 200 yards. In Kodiak we went to the range, shot at 100 yds, and it hit 2" high and 1/2" to the left. Hind sight being 20/20 maybe I should've take a couple more shots to make sure... I didn't. OK, so if the gun is on (and I suck) it's supposed to be about 6" low at 300 so the box was placed at 300 yards as the shot at the bear hit low I figured it'd give us an amplified result. The box, with the top flap out, was about 22" tall. Aimed at the top of the box. Hit about 2" right, and barely hit the bottom of it. Round 2, within a couple inches of the first. Yadda, yadda, yadda and a box of shells later we found consistency at ranges shorter than we'd like, but it's what we had to work with. Before anyone asks, the scope is off the gun and is ready to be sent in for diagnosis. To that point, I'm not 100% blaming the optic but something internal isn't right... still didn't make me feel any better.
After putting on the shooting display

we got to the knob about 10 am and continued to see bears that day. May 8th was back to the normal routine. Around noon Griffin spotted what would turn out to be my bear. He was side hilling across a large valley in our direction which would turn into an intercept point about 2 miles away. We packed up and headed across what appears to be an "easy" walk. Forgot this was Kodiak. Although it was flat, it had tussocks, streams, creeks, and some kind of god awful silt that if you didn't spread your weight out enough appears to be bottomless. As we got most of the way across we realized that the bear had been compelled to lay down, in the open nonetheless, and indulge in a early afternoon siesta. Was perfect for us to close that necessary distance my limited optics forced us to.
We got set up and waited for what seemed like forever. James asked if he should see if he could get the bear stirring. To which I replied "yep". After the first effort he simply lifted his head with a look of annoyance. The second round of "stirring" is when it got interesting. He stood up, looking more annoyed, and started the articulating waddle directly at us. That's the moment that will be burned into my brain forever. Have to say, at that point the pucker factor shot way up the charts. At some point while he was headed our direction I could feel a light breeze on the back of my neck and thought we were busted. Turns out that's the perfect recipe to turn a bear to a very slight quartering to angle. The fellas said "send it" and I did. He ran about 15 yards to cover and was laid flat out. We put a couple more into the brush patch just to make sure. At that point all three of us dropped everything except our guns and made are way to him. He was dead when we got there and then the work started.
After a quick lunch the guys went to work while I did my best to help and stay out of the way at the same time. Because it was only about 2:30 they were able to properly take care of the animal so any additional weight didn't have to be caried the 2.25 miles back to camp. We split up Griffin's pack (James took the lions share) and Griffin took the hide and skull the whole way back, which was no easy task. That gives me some hope for that generation.
Weather was crap for a couple days so didn't get out until Tuesday night, but I was good with that on account of the view.