You ain't going without me!!!" Were Todd (my husband’s exact words as we drove home from purchasing
his bear-hunting license. You see we usually share our bears in the trapping season. This year there was
quite a bit of cub signs at the bait site. Little claws marks appeared in the hardwoods - marks of a cub
game that entailed scurrying up and down the trees and the last place a hunter wants to set up a bear
snare is where Mama bear watches her cubs play.
After last minute instructions to the babysitter. It was around 4 o'clock, before Bessy, Todd (Trapper243)
and I headed out. Bessy is the .243 Browning we share/fight over every year. Yes, you heard right! A .243
for bear hunting. I can almost hear the groans and sighs.
Our drive was filled with laughter and hopes of seeing a bear or two and even a boar. As we parked, our
chitter chatter stopped as we headed into the woods, behind our bait site. As we approached, our rustic
ground blind, made of two fallen logs, I noticed the trees were used as scratching posts, fresh bear
"dodo" on the ground, the whole place seethed of bear signs. We settled on the leaves, behind our "top
of the line" blind, hubby and ole Bessy to the front and me in the back. It was quite comfy; bear hunting
allows us to watch, wait, and witness the gourmet feast of old donuts, muffins, bagels, and buckets of
lard and fryer fat. A half hour later, I heard something making it's way up the trail. I heard them first, but
Trapper saw them first. Over the last couple of years, Trapper has lost some hearing (working with a
power saw and a screaming wife) so I have been his "ears" in the woods. They appeared from
everywhere. One sow with 2 cubs came in from one side and a larger sow with a wee little cub from the
other side. The big sow was the boss in these woods, because she only shared her pastries with her
offspring. She sent her little guy up a tall hardwood, as he scurried up the tree, she booted the younger
sow and her 2 cubs. The 2 cubs were larger and looked like yearlings. This is when things got
interesting. Where do you think that Mama and 2 cubs would run? They used the emergency escape
route of course and we were smack dab in the middle! Imagine, two fallen logs and two wide-eyed bear
hunters sitting on the ground. I was busy trying to get into Trapper's pocket, as he waved his arms to
alert me of the oncoming trio. I had always heard they have poor eyesight and they truly seem to. They
were 15 feet away, before they veered off to the left, ran past us 20 feet and STOPPED! In the meantime
the larger sow looked our way, curious about all the commotion. We knew we were in a pickle! We
were in the last place a hunter wants to be, between sows and her cubs. Then, the sow and cubs caught
wind of us! She stood up on her hind legs and peered down at me, as I was closest to her. It's amazing
we didn’t break our necks in the next few minutes, as we tried to keep our eyes on the bears in front and
behind us. I will not lie - I was scared. The gal behind us was not leaving. She wanted to know what we
were. It felt like she was breathing down my neck. I say to Trapper."Come on now...shoot up in the air,
or shoot me cause someone needs some relief" Shooting any of the bears was just not an option. BAM!!
One shot over big Mama's head, she spewed out a mouthful of donuts and the whole herd of bears
disappeared into the woods, as quickly as they came. Or so we thought.
After exchanging a few nervous grins, we regrouped for a minute, started to breath again and even
chuckled a bit. But ...what was that noise? Could it be little toenails scraping "down" a hardwood tree?
Trapper said, “Oh shizzit!" and I said, "Don't let him start hollering for his big hairy Mama. My gosh ain't
he cute!" He sure was cute, a little black fluff ball, big as a large raccoon. I thought he was the dearest
little fur ball.... until he opened his big fat mouth! Before his little feet touched the ground, he was
screaming bloody murder. Everyone else had left and he thought he was alone. Have you ever heard a
cub hollering for his Mom? They sound just like a whiny kid - only ten times louder.
“MMMMMWWWAAAWWWWWWWW”.... he wailed as he hit the ground running. “Mmwwwaaawwww!"
That little guy thought he was doing big business as he "bolted" down the trail past us, full speed for a
cub. His short, little legs were just a going, but I, am sure we could have walked faster. He continued to
summon his Mama as he disappeared into the woods. Did I mention that "his" Mama did not use the exit
trail, instead ran back in the direction she was. So there we sat in the middle of the trail that lead her to
her cub. Time to git outta here. It was an easy decision. We gathered ourselves and keep close watch
for big Mama. True to a mother's nature, she came back into the bait site before we left. We stood up
and began talking loudly at her. Trapper yelled: "Go away Mama, your baby's all right." I don’t think she
believed him because she continued towards us. She never fully charged after us, but she sure did not
back off. She kept her head low and eyes piercing. Trapper whispered, "Just don’t run. " I thought to
myself, Yeah right! Like I'm gonna run away from the guy with the gun.” I may have been shaking like a
dog, passin' razor blades, but I sure 'nuff ain’t stupid! Trapper said, “ Stay behind me and we will back
out of here real slow." The entire time he was talking loud to the bear. Not yelling, simply telling her she
was all right, and so was her cub. She didn't look convinced. Once we were far from the exit trail, she
stopped coming towards us and headed in the direction of her cub. We could still hear
"Mmwwwaaawwww" in the distance.
I was never so glad to see that black Chevy in my whole life! We stood outside the truck for the longest
time without speaking. I broke the silence, “No one is gonna believe us, you know?" But it happened
and an experience we will never forget. On the way home we excitedly rehashed what happened,
reliving the moments. I have dubbed Trapper the "bear whisperer." We were so glad we came outta
there with no one getting hurt, including the bears. At least we determined what was coming to the bait
site.
The next couple of nights, we returned to the bait site, this time with the video camera and caught some
great video of the young sow and 2 cubs. They exited a trail about ten feet away from us, we never
made a sound and they never knew we were there. The third night, we moved our blind to the far side.
That night, we waited longer and saw a lone male enter the bait site. We watched him for a while, to be
sure, Trapper made one clean shot to the head and filled his 2004 bear tag. He was not a big Bear;
weighed under 200 pounds, but we got the entire hunt on video.
Many an evening since, our living room has been filled with family and friends, to watch our adventures
of a successful hunt with the sow and cubs. We relive it each and every time.
his bear-hunting license. You see we usually share our bears in the trapping season. This year there was
quite a bit of cub signs at the bait site. Little claws marks appeared in the hardwoods - marks of a cub
game that entailed scurrying up and down the trees and the last place a hunter wants to set up a bear
snare is where Mama bear watches her cubs play.
After last minute instructions to the babysitter. It was around 4 o'clock, before Bessy, Todd (Trapper243)
and I headed out. Bessy is the .243 Browning we share/fight over every year. Yes, you heard right! A .243
for bear hunting. I can almost hear the groans and sighs.
Our drive was filled with laughter and hopes of seeing a bear or two and even a boar. As we parked, our
chitter chatter stopped as we headed into the woods, behind our bait site. As we approached, our rustic
ground blind, made of two fallen logs, I noticed the trees were used as scratching posts, fresh bear
"dodo" on the ground, the whole place seethed of bear signs. We settled on the leaves, behind our "top
of the line" blind, hubby and ole Bessy to the front and me in the back. It was quite comfy; bear hunting
allows us to watch, wait, and witness the gourmet feast of old donuts, muffins, bagels, and buckets of
lard and fryer fat. A half hour later, I heard something making it's way up the trail. I heard them first, but
Trapper saw them first. Over the last couple of years, Trapper has lost some hearing (working with a
power saw and a screaming wife) so I have been his "ears" in the woods. They appeared from
everywhere. One sow with 2 cubs came in from one side and a larger sow with a wee little cub from the
other side. The big sow was the boss in these woods, because she only shared her pastries with her
offspring. She sent her little guy up a tall hardwood, as he scurried up the tree, she booted the younger
sow and her 2 cubs. The 2 cubs were larger and looked like yearlings. This is when things got
interesting. Where do you think that Mama and 2 cubs would run? They used the emergency escape
route of course and we were smack dab in the middle! Imagine, two fallen logs and two wide-eyed bear
hunters sitting on the ground. I was busy trying to get into Trapper's pocket, as he waved his arms to
alert me of the oncoming trio. I had always heard they have poor eyesight and they truly seem to. They
were 15 feet away, before they veered off to the left, ran past us 20 feet and STOPPED! In the meantime
the larger sow looked our way, curious about all the commotion. We knew we were in a pickle! We
were in the last place a hunter wants to be, between sows and her cubs. Then, the sow and cubs caught
wind of us! She stood up on her hind legs and peered down at me, as I was closest to her. It's amazing
we didn’t break our necks in the next few minutes, as we tried to keep our eyes on the bears in front and
behind us. I will not lie - I was scared. The gal behind us was not leaving. She wanted to know what we
were. It felt like she was breathing down my neck. I say to Trapper."Come on now...shoot up in the air,
or shoot me cause someone needs some relief" Shooting any of the bears was just not an option. BAM!!
One shot over big Mama's head, she spewed out a mouthful of donuts and the whole herd of bears
disappeared into the woods, as quickly as they came. Or so we thought.
After exchanging a few nervous grins, we regrouped for a minute, started to breath again and even
chuckled a bit. But ...what was that noise? Could it be little toenails scraping "down" a hardwood tree?
Trapper said, “Oh shizzit!" and I said, "Don't let him start hollering for his big hairy Mama. My gosh ain't
he cute!" He sure was cute, a little black fluff ball, big as a large raccoon. I thought he was the dearest
little fur ball.... until he opened his big fat mouth! Before his little feet touched the ground, he was
screaming bloody murder. Everyone else had left and he thought he was alone. Have you ever heard a
cub hollering for his Mom? They sound just like a whiny kid - only ten times louder.
“MMMMMWWWAAAWWWWWWWW”.... he wailed as he hit the ground running. “Mmwwwaaawwww!"
That little guy thought he was doing big business as he "bolted" down the trail past us, full speed for a
cub. His short, little legs were just a going, but I, am sure we could have walked faster. He continued to
summon his Mama as he disappeared into the woods. Did I mention that "his" Mama did not use the exit
trail, instead ran back in the direction she was. So there we sat in the middle of the trail that lead her to
her cub. Time to git outta here. It was an easy decision. We gathered ourselves and keep close watch
for big Mama. True to a mother's nature, she came back into the bait site before we left. We stood up
and began talking loudly at her. Trapper yelled: "Go away Mama, your baby's all right." I don’t think she
believed him because she continued towards us. She never fully charged after us, but she sure did not
back off. She kept her head low and eyes piercing. Trapper whispered, "Just don’t run. " I thought to
myself, Yeah right! Like I'm gonna run away from the guy with the gun.” I may have been shaking like a
dog, passin' razor blades, but I sure 'nuff ain’t stupid! Trapper said, “ Stay behind me and we will back
out of here real slow." The entire time he was talking loud to the bear. Not yelling, simply telling her she
was all right, and so was her cub. She didn't look convinced. Once we were far from the exit trail, she
stopped coming towards us and headed in the direction of her cub. We could still hear
"Mmwwwaaawwww" in the distance.
I was never so glad to see that black Chevy in my whole life! We stood outside the truck for the longest
time without speaking. I broke the silence, “No one is gonna believe us, you know?" But it happened
and an experience we will never forget. On the way home we excitedly rehashed what happened,
reliving the moments. I have dubbed Trapper the "bear whisperer." We were so glad we came outta
there with no one getting hurt, including the bears. At least we determined what was coming to the bait
site.
The next couple of nights, we returned to the bait site, this time with the video camera and caught some
great video of the young sow and 2 cubs. They exited a trail about ten feet away from us, we never
made a sound and they never knew we were there. The third night, we moved our blind to the far side.
That night, we waited longer and saw a lone male enter the bait site. We watched him for a while, to be
sure, Trapper made one clean shot to the head and filled his 2004 bear tag. He was not a big Bear;
weighed under 200 pounds, but we got the entire hunt on video.
Many an evening since, our living room has been filled with family and friends, to watch our adventures
of a successful hunt with the sow and cubs. We relive it each and every time.
| Bears, Bears... everywhere! by LadyTrapper/Bloomfield |
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