The Black Ghost

In the fall of 2002, I decided it was time to start hunting Black Bears. I'm not sure why, but I became pretty obsessed with the idea of harvesting such an incredible beast. I began my subscription to Bear Hunting Magazine (which I stil proudly receive today) and began to research and study the mighty Ursus Americanus. It was in September that my brother Jesse and I decided we'd give it a try. We headed east of Coeur d' Alene, Idaho to Fourth of July Pass. There is a never ending supply of National Forest lands to hunt, and we thought we might walk some old logging roads and stir something up. We drove about 5 or 6 miles north of I-90 and found what looked to be a suitable location for a walk. We left the vehicle around 3 pm and slowly made our way down the dark and lonely logging road. There were thimbleberries growing thick on the sides, and down to our left was a dark cedar forest. I had a strange feeling about that place. I could almost sense something in our presence. As we rounded a corner, not more than 500 yards from our starting point my brother and I thought we heard a whining noise. It was similar to the tones of the nasal voiced Bob Dylan mixed with a lamb. Whaaa, Whaaaa. Hmmmm? "There's something here!" I said to my brother. I looked up the hill and said "This spot is dark and looks like perfect bear territory." "There's got to be a bear around here somewhere." Just then it happened. There was a huge crash and thump as a creature came out of tree. It sounded like somebody dropping large rocks to the forest floor. My brother shouted "Bear, Mountain Lion something!" We listened as an animal tore through the woods away from us breaking branches and covering ground. We were then surprised to hear a tremendous woof, chomp, and growl. We knew now that it was a bear, and that it had probably just sent its cub or cubs away and was ready to destroy what ever had interrupted its relaxing evening in the tree. It continued to chomp its teeth, growl and moan from less than 35 yards away. We quickly retreated down the road about 4o yards just in case the bear decided to come at us. I aimed my gun down the old logging road and waited. It was silent. My heart was pumping so hard I thought it was going to pump right out of my chest. Like an idiot I began to imitate a bear cub bawling---whaaa, baugggghh, bauuughh. The bear was silent. We crept up to our original position, picked up some sticks, and tossed them over the thick brush into the dark woods where we'd last heard the animal. Crash! The sticks hit the ground, and the bear erupted into a tantrum of busting brush and growling. It was definitely agitated. I could hear the faint sounds of foot steps as the bear began to move to our left. My brother and I paralleled the bear at 30 yards separated only by a thick line of thimbleberries and impenetrable brush. I found an opening in the trees and raised my 7mm. Right then it happened, my first sighting of a black bear. I was in shock. She was like a big black silent ghost as she passed through my cross-hairs at 30 yards. I didn't pull the trigger. You can't shoot a sow with cubs, and due to the commotion that came from initial encounter we knew there were other bears with her--most likely cubs. Like only an adrenaline fueled rookie bear hunter would do, I wanted to get closer. We crept slowly into the tangled underbrush, guns raised, hearts beating, and eyes scanning. Waiting, at any moment, for the monster to show herself. The woods were silent and getting dark fast. My nerves were rattled and I could no longer handle the tension. We knew the bear was close, but how close? We would soon find out. I shot into the ground a few feet in front of me to scare her off. The brush exploded less than 20 ft away and we heard her rip up the hill heading for safety. What a rush. She was waiting for us. I was charged with adrenaline, and I loved it. As we walked back to the Jeep, my brother and I laughed and talked about the fine adventure we just had. You can't get that from a movie, or a book. You have to live it. It was glorious. After the adrenaline wore off, I thought about how nutty it was that I was bawling like a cub, or that we went into the brush after her. The fact is, we did, which made the outing that much more memorable. That's the best part about bear hunting. They're smart and unpredictable. Though a bear is generally timid and quick to retreat, one just never knows what's going to happen when they enter the domain of the Great Black Ghost--Ursus Americanus. Happy Hunting!