So this is kind of weird and if I hadn’t quit drinking years ago it would have really blown my mind.
After meeting a bunch of folks, a few of us were talking about bear hunting and Bearhunter asked if anyone knew ....., a taxidermist out of Olympia. I laughed and said, “F” him.
(I know him and he is a great guy..ha ha) I said yea, I know him and Bearhunter asked if I knew so and so out of the Skagit area who hunts with .... I was trying to think about the name and though it didn’t sound familiar, I remembered an incident many years ago and I asked if so and so had a son. Bearhunter said that he did not. I asked if he was sure because I remembered a young guy who drove all the way from Skagit (5hours at least) to hunt this area on the say so of his father who knew .... who also hunted the area.
If I remember right, Bearhunter said, “no I am sure he doesn’t have a son”, then he paused.
Then he said, “oh my god (or something like that) that was me. You were camped under the bridge when I came down”. I was like, “holy crap, I remember that”. Bearhunter says to me, You had long hair and were a lot skinnier back then and then he stood up, got the attention of some of the other guys and said….(I knew it was coming as soon as we realized who each other was)… hey, I saw this guy kill a cub (or something likethat)..
Oh crap!..
I laughed and had to plead my case that it was actually aged at 1.5 years old and had adult teeth, but it only weighed about 90lbs gutted.
Then Bearhunter proceeds to tell everyone how he met a hippy under the bridge. :dunno:C’mon. Hippies are tree huggers. I just want to hug a bear.
I don’t have any pictures from that weekend, but here is one from the week before with a 150 lber. You can see how Bearhunter might have mistaken me for a hippie.
The way I remember it, it was a Friday afternoon when I pulled into camp and set up a tent under the bridge. I think I was all set up and nearly ready to take off for an evening hunt when he pulled in. He actually asked if it was ok to camp next to me (most aholes would have just done it anyway) and I told him I didn’t mind. I can’t remember if he put a tent up under the bridge as well, but I remember he was still setting up when I took off.
I was planning on doing some calling that evening but I was also going to glass a feeding area. There was maybe an hour and a half of daylight left and I knew they bears could be out already so was going real slow down a grade through a logged off unit.
I heard a branch break, I looked up and saw some bushes moving then I saw what I thought was a black nose. I froze and stared for what seemed like 30 seconds before I could make out an eye. Once I saw the eye I knew the position of the bear and snuck a bullet between some brush right into the bears neck. It fell over then started hissing and bawling. :oI knew before I shot that it wasn’t a whopper, but when it started all the racket I knew is was smaller than I thought.
It was a dandy…on the pocket gopher scale.
Anyway, I tag it; gut it and head back to the truck for the cart. I got to the truck and realized that it would be easier carry it back then take out the cart and put it together. So I took a tarp and some rope and went back to the bear. I rolled it up in the tarp, threw it over my shoulder and head back to the truck.
On the drive back to camp I was seriously hoping that no one is there to see this small bear, but lo and behold…no such luck. The young guy is still there.
I remember throwing the bear in the creek and *censored*ting that evening. That was my second bear of the year so we made plans to trying and find him one the next morning. We found a lot of bear sign and called a few good areas but we only found an elk shed.
Back at camp I pull the bear out of the creek and lay it across a log to cut it up for the ice chest. Then to my embarrassment, he pulls out a camera and asks to take a picture. I reluctantly agreed but I don’t think I looked up as he took them.
