And here I swore I would not shoot another August bear after I did the same a few years back. With August temperatures it seems almost ridiculous how fast a bear can turn soft, sticky and rank once you get it on the ground. Yet, I could not resist heading to a very close and convenient logged area I have been hunting for several years. There are a couple of crossed blow-downs that form a perfectly contoured elevated blind that I like to climb into, kick back, relax and glass. Not sure if I go there to hunt, or just escape and dream...it is lovely. Last Thursday evening I did just that, and I'm not going to lie...I slung my bow, climbed into the usual notch, kicked back, glassed for a second or two, saw nothing and decided...gee I could really go for a nap right now. As you can guess, stuff happened in the clearcut while I was out. I come around after ~ 15 minutes and this guy is giving the classic archery target broadside pose with his head buried in blackberries no less than 20 yards away. I did not know it at the time, but my shot bisected his heart...he turned and and kicked on the turbo boost back into the thicket that I later ranged at 50 yards....I heard him plow through the brush so I waited to hear the good old death moan...but nothing. So I waited longer-now wondering what just happened...did I miss or make a horrible shot? Everything felt right with my hold, aim, release and follow through. I decide to wait longer. After an hour I get down, find my arrow with what looked like small traces of fat and blood on it (uh oh) and can find absolutely zero blood on the ground, branches or leaves. It's getting dark, I find no blood trail where I last saw him enter the thicket....I decide to wait 30 more minutes and listen...it is now really dark and I'm not going in there with just a bow and flashlight after what I though was a wounded maybe gut shot bear. My spirits sank.... deep...what have I done?
So I call my friend, explained what happend and we decided to give him (bear) the night....the old "when in doubt" saying. We go in the next morning at first light, head to where I last saw him run and start bushwhacking. 30 yards into the neck high brush there he lays. I'm relieved. Upon further review, still not a whole lot of blood to try and back track on. I am always impressed how tough these animals are....how did he make it that far basically dead on his feet? No wonder there was no blood trail....the pump abruptly stopped. As I mentioned with the August temperatures there seems to be little margin for error in recovery and processing...I felt lucky to have found him, got him home, skinned, quartered and on ice...probably just in time. He makes for Wonderful Sloppy Joe's.
I do love bear hunting...thanks for looking.
