Bears, bears & more bears

I’m Australian and I guided my first season in BC on both black bear and mountain goat last fall. Here’s part one of my story.

Day 1: I was all smiles, soaking in my first floatplane ride inbound to our remote hunting area. Our guide Cam and I were the first to head in and together we had scoured Fat Maps to find the best route from basecamp to the summit. Our hunter, John, touched down with the outfitter and pilot, Logan, about an hour after us and he was raring to go. John took a moment to align his bow whilst I loaded the remainder of his gear into my pack before embarking on the trek north. Carrying 100-plus pounds of equipment, the three-hour uphill hike to camp was the hardest trek I’d ever done, far surpassing anything I’d conquered in Australia or New Zealand. It was a hot day and the bugs were unbearable. At times we climbed hand over fist to get a few extra meters up the mountain. I couldn’t help but notice the enormous boot-sized piles left behind by the bears and they gave me something new to think about.

The good weather was short lived as the heavens opened minutes after we’d set up camp. It was windyand awful for a few hours, but it cleared enough that we were able to head off on an afternoon hunt. Wesaw one big billy through the spotting scope a few miles away in an inaccessible location. We also saw agiant black bear sauntering along the slopes. We hoped to run into him later in the trip if we couldn’t finda goat. We covered a lot of territory that day and glassed loads of good goat country to no avail. Whowould’ve thought that freeze-dried meals would taste so good?

Day 2: We were up and out by 7 a.m. Our breakfast was a coffee sachet, and lunch was a cheese stick and a single muesli bar. Cam had a Garmin satellite receiver which gave us a daily weather forecast. Decent weather was inbound so we had to make the most of it. My legs felt great as I bounced up the hills. John didn’t have as much “go” so poked along and stayed lower with Cam whilst I raced ahead to check and glass higher areas. We saw nine black bears throughout the day, one of which held our attention. He was a giant murderous shadow of a boar.

We checked high and low for goats, glassing every conceivable spot. We found an old bed and some old dung but no goats. We also found a pile of bones and fur which belonged to a wolverine. We could see the weather coming in and after being hit sporadically with rain throughout the day, we knew it was setting in. A tough two-hour walk back in the rain brought us close to camp. Always checking for animals, I looked up as we approached, and spotted a decent boar waltzing around above camp. We raced over to the tents to drop our gear as John began the stalk. Cam had the rifle ready as I followed with the camera. We crested the knoll just as the wind turned and the bear smelled us. This bit of excitement was exactly what John needed. A good sign for the hunt to come.

Day 3: I rose early to prepare the gear. I had dropped down to the lake to fill up the water bottles when I saw the boar from last night sky-lined nearby. John and I glassed the boar and hatched a plan. Neither John nor I had ever stalked a black bear so this was about to get our hearts pumping. All three of us laced our boots and closed the gap to 50 yards. Cam and John attempted one final dash when the bear caught movement. From my vantage point I could see the bear retreat 20 yards before turning to look back. Cam and John were isolated and didn’t know they’d been seen. The bear was curious and hadn’t run off. Hand signals weren’t going to close the communication gap between us, so I had to make a calculated, split-second decision. The bear lifted its front leg and began stalking back towards them. He dipped behind the undulating ground, out of sight, 30 yards from rising back into view. This was my chance–I sprinted the 30 yards to John and delivered his quiver, undetected. I pointed and said three words; “Bear, draw, shoot.” Two seconds later the bear crested as John drew and let an arrow fly. John’s arrow found its mark Cam put me to work breaking down the boar. I stripped the meat as Cam worked the cape. Our backpacks were full and the walk to camp was short and sweet. That was the most heart pumping predator hunt I’d ever done!

Day 4/5: Was…to put it simply…torture. We walked over 20 kms as Cam and I moved ahead of John toglass new spots he couldn’t access. There were bears everywhere but no goats. We found plenty of oldgoat sign, hoof tracks, a broken horn, old beds etc…but no goats. We glassed literally everywhere. Everybluff, overhang, shady/sunny patch, icy/snowy patches…nothing. I had been warned that hunting goatswas the toughest in the world and now I knew why.

Before closing up camp for the night, I gathered and stacked rocks to keep the bear meat out of theelements. Several hours after bedtime, we woke abruptly to the sound of falling rocks. Cam and I sat boltupright, wide eyed. Without saying a word, Cam prepared the rifle as I unzipped the tent and shone thetorch at the source. Nothing. Climbing back into our sleeping bags, it was tough to sleep knowing we werebeing stalked in the dark. The forecast was nasty, with 50-plus mph winds and fog imminent. We had toget off the mountain while we could.

My pack weighed 80-plus pounds as we began our wet and foggy descent. We kept checking the Garminmap for the best route but ended up going virtually straight down on our butts. After a hellacious hour, wereached base camp before delivering the precious cargo. We’d passed fresh wolf and grizzly piles full ofgoat fur which explained a lot.

Logan couldn’t fly in that weather, so we were stuck until it cleared. Although it was scary insidethe tent,I left its shelter only four times over the next four days. It rained constantly. And with the gusting wind, wedidn’t know if it was going to hold or not. Those were long, nerve-racking nights.

On the third day, the rain finally stopped so we attempted to find a grouse for dinner and pick some blueberries. As I was lacing up my boots, Cam said, “Matt there’s a bear. ”I hadn’t even noticed the black boar lurking on the rocks directly opposite our camp. We watched as he circled us, perhaps looking for more fresh meat. Cam snatched up the rifle in anticipation of what could happen.

We tried to shoo the bear away, but he only saw us as competition. He turned, clacking his teeth and huffing through his nostrils. The bear was 40 yards from Cam when he stopped walking, turned and stared Cam down. The bear then began closing the distance on Cam and after repeated efforts to thwart it, Cam aimed and fired, dropping it 35 yards from the tents and 20 yards in front of him. Upon inspection,the boar was about 50 pounds bigger than John’s bear. The skull was a touch under 20 inches all round.Cam was stoked to fill his own bear tag. A quick three hours later we had the bear prepared and wereback in our tents with the rifle held closely. We had only one final, terror filled night on the mountain.Day 11: We were all up early in anticipation of our flight out. The lake was clear and the sun was out. No fog in sight on our end but down by the bay fog was everywhere. I was the last to leave, clutching the rifle until Logan returned to get me off the mountain. What a wild 11 days–and I was hooked!

Be sure to check out part two of this story in our winter issue!