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The 2020 hunting season started like no other season I had ever experienced. Last spring, I unexpectedly came upon a young black bear feeding on two newborn moose calves, and it became abundantly clear that 2020 would mark the start of a very exciting bear hunting career for me.
When the season opened, I cut deadfall from quad trails, simply to get out of the house after a month of quarantine. I set up trail cameras and sealed up the lid on the bait and the waiting game began. Thankfully, I did not have long to wait. A yearling found the bait on the second day! He was not a trophy, but he ate bait like one.
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| Charlie in his ground blind. |
After checking the bait and trail cameras, I had to decide if I had any shooters. I figured I had two—a really big-bodied bear with a beautiful white patch on his chest that I named “The General”, and another that was distinguishable by his totally black snout, I called him “Blackface”.
This year was going to be my first attempt at harvesting an animal with traditional tackle. So I shifted my focus on practicing skills, which at best were novice. I practiced every day for weeks until I was confident enough to hunt. I thought I was ready; I had practiced, I had my target, and I had bears coming for bait every day.
Sitting on the ground with bears was a great idea, in theory, but once I got to the blind, it didn’t seem quite as great. Within 45 minutes of my first sit, the silence broke with the sound of a paw breaking the suction in a mud hole behind me. The first bear of the year was walking right towards me at only twelve yards! He walked by, coming within about three yards of me, on his way to the bait.
After feeding for an hour, he gave way to another bear, which gave way to another, and then another. At one point, there were five bears at the bait. In an instant, that changed. Naturally, I looked in the direction of the bears’ focus. Suddenly, there was Blackface, staring directly at me through thick cover at about eight yards away... eye to eye!
Blackface eased his attention from me to a sow with her cubs. He came out of the bush at fifteen yards, quartering away perfectly. Everything was as if it was scripted. I wanted to shoot quickly so he didn’t get farther away, but when I tried to stop him, he spooked. I released an arrow at the same time. A combination of nerves and a spooked bear led to a poor shot. I was devastated and had a very sleepless night.
I didn’t give up though. The next morning, I got out my bow and practiced. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get my confidence back and decided that the responsible thing to do at this point was to use my compound bow, as I was more confident and comfortable with that.
The next night, May 7, I watched the same eight or nine bears again and unbelievably, Blackface made yet another appearance. Unfortunately, a combination of my movement in the blind and his sensing something amiss kept him from coming from within thirty yards. Another six hours of white-knuckle bear hunting was over for the night.
On May 9, I refilled the now empty bait barrel and sat in my ground blind. Honestly, I’m a bit nervous when I sit alone on the ground near bait, but I really enjoy the adrenaline rush. I watched a few bears come and go. A new sow brought her three yearlings to the bait. One of them was not in a good mood and he put the run on the other bears attempting to feed. Suddenly, and with an awesome display of speed and power, he turned his attention on me and within seconds, he was reaching through my blind trying to grab my leg! (Check out the video at https://www.facebook.com/charlie.reade.9/videos/10157537858023871)
I tried capturing footage of as much of this encounter as I could, but I was by myself. I was also hindered by his mother being only twenty-five yards away and watching it all take place. Understandably, I was pretty rattled, but I didn’t leave. I threw a spear-like stick at him, hitting him in the face and causing him and his kin to take off for the night. To add to the excitement, once the dust settled, I spotted Blackface sitting under a spruce tree, thirty yards off, calmly watching it all take place.
My game plan for May 10, thinking Blackface would not be able to resist some fresh beaver, was to be dead still and ready just before dark. But this time there was no Blackface! What are the odds that four other bears would all come out and go straight to a fresh beaver, but not the biggest one, the one I was waiting for?
I thought that he wouldn’t be far, so I waited until after dark again. Within minutes of last legal light, he rushed in and snatched the beaver. He ripped it from the tree where it was tied by its head. He then disappeared into the darkness. My frustration was mounting.
There was a steady stream of bears between 5:00 pm on May 10 and 10:00 am on May 11. They seemed especially interested in the fryer fat I had left. Once again (but this time earlier in the evening), Blackface made an appearance. He sat behind the barrel for about ten minutes staring at me, only breaking the stare to periodically grab a piece of bait. Then he’d lie back down behind the barrel. It was as if he was saying, “Thanks for the free beaver, shmuck!”
The next night, I set out with my quad trailer, early enough to gather some deadfall and bring it into the bait site to make some alterations. I filled the bait again and was sitting by my regular time. Surely, by now the bears were used to my schedule for baiting.
May 12 was a turning point in my hunting career. Watching the small bears feed, I could never have imagined that my plan was about to come to fruition.
When the sow and cubs left, I knew that it was the perfect time. The woods were silent when suddenly, I heard the sound of a tree branch snapping, signaling the arrival of something big.
I have since relived the following moments over and over in my mind, and through the video I recorded. What took a mere two minutes on film, felt like an eternity. The first thing I saw was his jet-black snout. He quartered slightly away from me, looking left towards the barrel. This time, however, his guard was down.
When he got to the bait, I knew he was at a distance of exactly twenty yards. I drew my bow and held it for approximately fifteen seconds, waiting for the perfect shot. When the shot and moment were right, I nailed it!
He growled on impact and snapped at the arrow as he fled, but it was too late. I could see the perfectly placed arrow as he ran off. He made it a mere ten paces behind the bait before he collapsed and expired on camera.
I am extremely happy and honoured to have harvested the animal I had patiently hunted throughout the spring hunting season. Not only is he is my first bear, but also my first Pope and Young record bear. ■
For previous Reader Stories click here.
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