At breakfast Andy advised me that we would be going out hunting bears today.  Sounded good to me!  We had been talking about “the berry grounds” for a couple days, and I was excited to see it first hand.  The way Andy described it there is a large hill side that burned over a couple years back, then grew back in almost solid blue berries.  He claims the black bears work this hill hard this time of the year and that we should be able to find a good one with a little effort.  With a little luck we should be able to stalk close enough for a shot.  I really like bear hunting, and have been looking for a big one for a life mount for years.  We were off!

The berry grounds are off the north end of Dollands, so the day started with a boat ride to the far end of the pond seven miles from camp.  Three quarters of the way across we saw another boat following in our wake.  Billy and Mark drew the other boat and were to be hunting the north west corner of the pond, in another direction.  Something was up, so we stopped and let them overtake us.  Billy had a funny grin on his face when they pulled up along side, saying, “Forget something?”  Seems Andy forgot the sack with our lunches in it back at camp and brother Bill was watching his backside.  Thanking him we wished them luck and headed in our respective directions.

In all the times I have been to Dollands I’ve never been to the northeast corner.  I found it an interesting place.  I always thought the source of the pond was the many brooks that feed in from every direction, however right there in the northeast corner was a river running in!  Along side the inlet is a large cove.  It is very shallow, with lots of huge rocks, but Andy managed to dodge the majority of them bringing us to the far end where we moored the boat for the day.  From there we started the two hour hike through some of the nastiest ground cover I’ve ever had the misfortune to need to negotiate.  Every once in a while Andy would ask, “Are you sure shooting a bear will be worth this hell?”  My reply was always the same, “Show me a big one and I’ll walk twice as far!”

Finally we cleared the last small hill in a series and found ourselves with the first clear view of the “Berry Grounds”.  We were glassing across a large bog, and the berry covered hill was a long ways off, but it took no time at all to spot a few black spots moving among the bushes.  Crossing the bog brought us close enough to glass more of the long ridge that ran from the edge of a long thin pond back straight east for over a mile.  Running east to west, the hill has tremendous southern exposure which I’m sure plays a part in the blue berry production.  Getting to a slight rise, we were able to glass most of the ridge in all directions.  One by one we were able to pick out eight different bears gorging themselves on plump blue berries in the mid morning sun.  The problem was trying to tell which was the biggest.  Damn, I wish I had remembered to pack the spotting scope!

To be honest, I couldn’t say one bear was any bigger than the next; they all appeared to be mature boars.  We glassed some more and decided to eliminate one of the bears closest to us from consideration for being a tad smaller than the rest.  That left seven potential targets for a stalk.  Neither of us had a coin, so we had to determine some other way to choose which one to go after.  Finally it came to me; going with the wind direction was the ticket.  Not only did we need to have the wind in our favor for a successful stalk, I wanted to play the wind so that while we were stalking one bear we didn’t disturb the others.  That way, if the first stalk didn’t work out, we could just move over with the wind and try for the next one.  Andy agreed.

 It didn’t take long to drop off the ridge and work along between some large rocks in the direction of the target bear.  Actually getting with-in fifty yards was very easy.  The bear was preoccupied feeding, the wind was right, and we had lots of cover between the big boulders.  The last fifty yards wasn’t going to be so easy!  I tucked in tight to the side of a big rock and glassed the bear with my 10X50 field glasses.  At fifty yards, yes Andy had the trusty range finder at work; the bear looked real good in the glasses.  I figured he would walk right by my rock if he kept feeding in the same direction, and was glad to hold tight until he arrived.  For ten minutes that seemed like several hours he just fed around fifty yards distant, then he turned and headed away from us.  That wasn’t the plan!

 Andy was giving hand signals to make a move on the bear every time his head was down feeding, so yard by yard I started closing the distance.  At twenty-five yards I found myself moving parallel with the bear as he fed, while still keeping directly down wind from him.  I could have shot, but there was plenty of time.  I looked back at Andy and saw that he was wondering how long it would be before the bow would get drawn?  Then the bear changed course again.  This time he started angling toward me closing the distance even more.  This was a good thing!  I ranged a large rock as he approached it and found it to be a mere twenty-one yards from where I knelt behind a small bush.  I figured that when he walked behind the rock I would draw, and when he appeared on the other side I would aim with the twenty yard pin and be home free.  I continued watching as he fed so slowly toward, and then behind, the rock.

 By the time he cleared the rock I was at full draw as planned, but he turned again!  This time he turned facing right toward me and started in my direction.  Twenty yards, eighteen, fifteen, how close was he going to come?  I decided fifteen yards was close enough, placed my pin right under his chin and loosed the string.  The arrow disappeared right in the center of his chest where I had focused my stare.  The bear turned and started bounding away in one fluid motion, but there were massive amounts of blood spraying in all directions as he ran.  The three blade Muzzy had once again done its work!  The bear went less than 100 yards before bedding in plain sight.  As we walked up to him for the photos we could still see six bears feeding on the ridge around us, some even bigger than the 400 pounder resting peacefully at our feet.  The skinning job took some time, and we broke mid way for lunch.  It was a bright sunny day “in country” and we drank in every bit of the experience.

Roy with his 400 lb bear taken from the ground.

Half way through the skinning process Andy took a break and happened to spot a small herd of caribou to our south.  Looking quickly it appeared there were several does and at least one good stag.  We had work to finish, but both wanted a better look.  Once again this reminded us how dumb it was to leave the spotting scope at home!  With the skinning job completed we packed the hide and skull in our packs and started the long hike back to the boat.  We decided it wouldn’t be that much of a detour to swing out to the east toward the last place we saw the herd of caribou, and it was a nice day after all!  A quarter mile later we ran across a lone stag feeding in our direction.  Figuring him for a herd outcast, we started moving slowly and paying a lot of attention.

Over the next little rise we came face to face with a dozen caribou.  The larger stag was heading in our direction followed by a slightly smaller stag that seemed intent on running the big guy off from the does.  The big stag was completely covered in mud, while the smaller one had a few places that were not a muddy brown color.  Andy told be to shoot the big one to put him out of his misery, but he didn’t meet my specifications!  Andy then suggested we see how close we could get.  At twenty yards we had the stag broadside and I came to full draw.  Andy was getting excited!  Then I let down and told Andy this stag counted, as we could have killed him just as simple as you please!  Andy said if I wasn’t willing to shoot him, I should give him my bow and he’d do the deed!  I know he was just kidding, but he really wanted me to take that stag.

After passing the bigger stag we decided to check out the other one.  He was with his girl friends a little over 100 yards from us when we turned away from the bigger one.  By walking slowly, and snort grunting along the way, we were able to work in to less than thirty yards of what was now the herd bull.  It took a few tries to get him broadside with no does in the way, but it finally happened.  Another draw, another passed opportunity, and another caribou counted in the kill column if only we decided it was his turn.  It was time to move on.  As we moved south toward the boat the caribou decided to follow us.  The strange thing was they were now down wind of us and didn’t seem to mind.  Perhaps it was that they were used to us being close and causing no harm, because we got with-in fifteen yards of several does and smaller stags.

Twenty minutes later we were sitting on rocks resting when the caribou herd decided to move in closer.  After a short time we had the herd of a dozen or more all with-in 25 yards, with broadside shot opportunities presented in every direction.  It was great fun, but I had a good trophy for the day and none of these stags were as big as my first day wonder.  In spite of the long walk back to the boat, and the seven mile boat ride, we beat everyone else back to camp for the day.  It was fun stretching the hide out on the dock for everyone to see as they returned for the day.  A quick shower and snack rounded out the afternoon nicely thank you very much! 

Kevin took this nice stag breaking in his longbow.

As the groups came in for the evening we got caught up on the day’s events.  Kevin abandoned the moose area and went looking for caribou.  He took a nice stag, which was a tad weak on top.  I don’t think he’ll make P&Y minimums, but he was Kevin’s first with his longbow and he was happy as a clam.  Mark and Billy found a herd of fifty or more caribou with two he claims are bigger than Larry’s.  They tried several times to make moves on them, but things just didn’t seem to work out.  Finally a forty yard shot was taken at a good stag (but not one of the two real big ones), but the hit was less than perfect.  Mark is going back in the morning hoping to find the stag bedded where he left him and be able to finish the job.  Ron’s guide, Lee, twisted his knee again and hobbled back to camp unable to go out again in the morning.  Larry saw a couple moose, but didn’t get a shot.  All in all, a good day for the crew and everyone is filled with great expectations!  Tomorrow will be exciting, hope you all join us.

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