Alaska Bear Camp Lessons

Getting my son inside his camouflage bivy sack in a treestand was harder than I’d anticipated.

-  Lucas Byker

For his seventh birthday, I promised to take him to one of our bear baits and let him sit with me for the first time, although he wasn’t ready to harvest big game yet. With a babysitter secured for his little brother, we crossed a lake by boat and climbed the steep mountain side to our most productive bait.

After bundling him into his cocoon, I bagged his head in a mosquito net and gave him one of his magazines from my pack. I planned to sit for from 5 - 11:30 p.m., since in Alaska in late May it only gets dark around midnight to 2 a.m.

This was my son’s first hunt that involved being quiet, and he was doing a great job. But, every turn of his magazine pages sounded like a thunderclap in the deathly still coastal rainforest. As I turned to remind him to read more quietly, movement caught my eye. A respectable-sized black bear had ghosted in on us, and was already inside 30 yards. I gently tapped my son’s leg with my hand, and his eyes grew wide as he watched the bear approach.

Perhaps sensing our presence, the bear paused, quartering to us, its front paws on the massive, mossy trunk of a downed mountain hemlock. While I normally wouldn’t advocate for a quarteringto shot, at 20 yards with a .375 H&H, I knew I could put the round where it needed to go.

At the shot, the bear roared and began rolling backwards before gaining its feet. I had a momentary opportunity for a second shot, but the bear’s stumbling run and spray of blood from its chest cavity assured me that the bear would be down soon. Moments later, a death moan and shaking alders told us we had anchored the bear.

We quickly recovered the sow, and after some photos, were able to carry the quarters and hide down in a single heavy load.