So this story starts off with hiking…lots of it.
The weather was great, cool all day until about noon, but with that cooler weather, we also were battling intermittent fog.  The fog would rush in around us at startling speed, and then dissipate back to sunshine, it was really a cool sight.  We reached the edge of our first target basin around noon with a solid six hours behind us on the trail, and nearly 5000 feet of elevation gain.
Scott and I set our packs down and spread out on the ridge to glass.  Scott moved around 200 yards or so up the ridge while I stayed near the packs.  After 20 minutes of glassing, I gave him a wave to see if anything had jumped out at him.  He mis-interpreted this to mean that I’d spotted the same bear he did which was feeding a couple hundred yards to my left through the blue berries, when in reality my view was blocked by a stand of timber.  
Scott waited until the bear fed into the timber then sprinted up the ridge towards me, giving me the “get your gun” hand signal, which is pretty universal.  Not knowing what or where, I unstrapped my rifle and sprinted up the trail towards him.  He had already sat down to glass again when I raced up.
He informed me of the situation and I told him I would post there, as all escape routes out of that timber were visible from that position.  Scott ran back up to his original point and started glassing again.  Our original plan was to video tape the hunt (and kill), and the thought occurred to me that the camera was in Scott’s pack, which was about 120 yards from my position.  
About that time, I caught the scent on the breeze, and I knew he was getting closer.  I could smell him for a full ten minutes while he fed his way through the timber on blueberries.  
Finally he poked his head out, and was about 40 yards from the pack.
Not going to be able to get the video camera…
Scott came over, and I told him I was going to shoot when he gave me a clear shot.  Not  15 seconds later, he cleared the trees and gave me a quartering shot.  I took him right in the left shoulder and out the right.  Though it appears the bullet fragmented when it hit the shoulder, and while the rest carried through the other side, a piece went out the neck. 
He rolled 4 or 5 times down the hill, but he was dead on impact.  
Scott and I skinned and quartered him, and as dark was fast approaching and we were out of water, we set the hide up over a pair of small dead wood we propped up against a tree, and hung the rest of the meat in TAG bags.  It was already getting colder, so we weren’t concerned about the meat at all.
After getting water, and taking a couple celebratory swings from the whiskey Scott happened to bring (ok, we drank the whole flask), we decided to call it a night.
That night, temperatures reached a balmy 28 degrees Fahrenheit so our concern about the meat lessened even more.
The next morning, we glassed first light, and then hiked up to the kill spot and boned out and loaded up the BT1’s.  
Then came the descent.
Big credit to Scott for keeping my head in the game, as that packout was pretty brutal.
Anyways, thanks for reading!
For those who care…
This was my first bear
Gun is a Tikka .300 WSM

