Big Bears and Close Calls
It’s funny how life changes as we grow. One day, you’re excited to take your 10-year-old daughter on her first bear hunt. Then you blink, and that little girl asks if we can take her boyfriend on a bear hunt.
Well, last spring, that was my reality. My daughter, Reese, made her case for why we should take her boyfriend, Ryker, to get a bear. After some convincing, we compromised, and, of course, did exactly what she wanted. We planned a spring bear hunt for Ryker.
As spring progressed, we gathered plenty of bait—everything from popcorn and dog food to used cooking oil and my favorite sprays and scents from Boarmaster.
It was mid-May before the snow had melted enough for us to make it into our favorite spot to set a bait. We hadn’t baited the previous spring, but the year before, we had, and we’d had a couple of nice bears hitting the bait, including a nice brown-phase. I knew that if he had survived and were still around, he’d be a big bear by now.
Visitors
About a week later, we went to check the cameras and had our first visitors. There was plenty of action between a pine marten, a wolverine, a fox that seemed to love hanging around, and more crows than I could count.
The best part was seeing a sow with a cub and a nice brown-phase bear. The sow and cub had started hitting the bait each night, but the bigger bear had only shown up a few times. We rebaited the site but decided to give it another week before hunting, hoping the big bear would get more comfortable and start coming in more regularly.
Time to Get After It
The following weekend, we packed in and set up the ground blind. While we were there, we checked the camera to see what had been around. The sow and cub were still regular visitors, the brown phase was hitting a little more often, and one picture showed an even bigger brown phase bear from the day before.
We backed out, dinked around for a few hours, and then around 4 p.m., Ryker, Reese, and I climbed into the blind for our first actual hunt of the season.
The first few hours were pretty slow, but then I heard a twig snap up on the hill to our right. Soon, we caught sight of a black blob moving through the trees. It was the cub, and the sow wasn’t far behind.
As sows with cubs often do, she stopped short of the bait, keeping watch while her cub lumbered in and fed for a few minutes. But the cub wasn’t there long before mama bear decided it was time to go, and they both ran off into the trees. I thought another bear might be coming in, but that wasn’t the case. Darkness fell, and we walked out empty-handed.
Final Day
Over the next couple of weeks, we only made it out to hunt once due to scheduling conflicts, and the results were much the same. Still, we managed to keep the bait stocked and active, ensuring the bears had a reason to keep coming in.
As mid-June approached, I knew the warm weather we’d been having would soon cause the bears to start rubbing. So, on the evening of June 15th, we climbed into the blind for what I figured would be our final spring hunt.
The evening went like most bear hunts: plenty of boredom, crows, and sweating it out in a ground blind, waiting for the sun to dip and the woods to cool.
Around 6:30 p.m., our regulars, the sow and cub, showed up at the bait. Once again, they weren’t there long before the sow huffed at the cub, and they scurried up the hill. They didn’t go far, though, and soon I heard the sound of a bear climbing a tree. I could only assume the sow didn’t like something and had run her cub up a tree for safety.
We could hear her huffing and puffing, breaking branches, and carrying on for the next couple of hours. Somewhere in that chaos, I started to hear jaw-popping, a sound I’ve heard often while hunting bears. I wasn’t sure if the sow was making it, but it became clear another bear had joined the party, and she was unhappy.
For those who might not know, sows come into heat in spring, and a boar will kill cubs if it means a chance to breed the sow. I wish we could’ve seen it all play out, but instead, we just had to listen as the bears stirred up a storm in the timber, just 75 to 100 yards from our blind.
The Moment of Truth
I was watching my watch closely, knowing we didn’t have much time left before legal shooting light faded. I quietly told Ryker we only had about five minutes left when he whispered, “There’s the big bear—headed toward the bait!”
I saw him a moment later, and after a quick look through my binoculars, I knew right away—it was a large brown color-phase boar. I told Ryker to take the first good shot he got before we ran out of light.
This bait site is excellent, but the setup inside the blind isn’t ideal. Ryker, being left-handed, sits on the left side. Reese is in the middle, and I’m on the right. Usually, that works fine, but the problem is that a big tree blocks my view of anything beyond the right side of the barrel.
The bear weaved his way through the trees, and while we still had enough light to shoot, I reminded Ryker that he needed to take the first good shot he had—legal light was just about gone.
Soon, Ryker whispered, “I can see him.”
“Can you shoot?” I asked.
“Not yet—all I can see is his head.”
An instant later: “I can see his whole body—can I shoot?”
“Yeah,” I replied quickly. Almost immediately, the rifle cracked.
Let me take this moment to remind you, kids—wear your ear protection! I had edged forward during the encounter, trying to get a better look, and at the report of the rifle, I was nearly deafened.
We heard the bear crash off through the trees, but he didn’t go far. Then the woods fell silent. I was sure Ryker had made a good shot, given how short the run sounded, but we gave it a few minutes before gathering our gear as the dark of night closed in.
Close Call
After about 20 minutes, we climbed out of the blind, switched on our headlamps, and slowly approached where we’d last heard the bear. As we neared the bait, the sow started huffing and crashing around again, not far off. That’s when we realized she’d never left, and the cub was still treed nearby.
I spoke to her in a firm but non-threatening voice: “Go on, get out of here.”
I tried this for a few minutes, but it quickly became clear that she wasn’t going anywhere, so we backed off.
Back down near the blind, we waited and listened. Eventually, we heard rustling in the woods, and I figured she’d finally retreated. We waited a little longer, then cautiously made our way back toward the bait to try and recover Ryker’s bear.
But this time, the sow was even more upset. We could hear her huffing again, with what sounded like bluff charges. In the dark, I knew the situation had turned. I needed to get both of these kids out of there.
I wasn’t nearly as scared of that mama bear in the woods as I was of the mama bears back home. If something went sideways with these two teens, they’d be the ones I'd have to answer to. So, as much as Ryker wanted to see his bear up close, I told him he would have to wait until morning.
The Next Day
We were back at the trailhead early the following morning, ready to hike in and recover the bear. As we approached the bait site and started looking around, I was slightly worried when we didn’t see him immediately. But it was all for nothing; he was only about 20 yards from the bait, tucked into some thick brush.
I knew this was a good bear, but I didn’t realize how big he was until we tried dragging him out. It took all four of us: Ryker, Reese, my wife Bri, and me, to pull him out of the underbrush and into a better spot to look him over and take photos.
On closer inspection, we noticed something interesting, sometime the evening before Ryker shot him, the boar must’ve gotten too close to the sow, and she’d left him with some battle wounds across his neck.
We spent the morning skinning and processing the bear, sharing many laughs and soaking up the moment. As we packed out this big, mature bear, I was again reminded of what an effective management tool baiting bears can be. It allows hunters to be selective, to pass on younger animals, and to harvest mature boars like this one.
It’s hard work, much harder than people who haven’t done it usually realize, but the reward can be so much more than just a punched tag. It’s about the experience, the challenge, and the time spent with friends and family in the wild.
Oh, and the best part? A week later, when we went back in to pull the bait barrel and camera, we discovered that although Ryker had taken the big color-phase boar, another large brown-phase bear was still hitting the bait. So, with some luck, maybe he’ll still be around this year.
Which reminds me… isn’t it bear season?