King’s Outdoor World Blog

Oregon Bear Hunt Success

May 24th, 2006 David King - King's Outdoor World

Oregon Bear Hunt Success
Michael Burrell

I drew a spring bear tag in the majestic Blue Mountains of Eastern Oregon, a rugged remote terrain with beauty that rivals any mountain range in western United States. After a 15-mile drive up a winding canyon, Dave, Randy, and I unloaded the ATV’s from the trailer and loaded them with five days worth of comfortable camping/hunting gear. We didn’t pack light and quickly realized the 20 plus mile drive through high-country snow-covered trails would prove to be a challenge. While I was “white-knuckling” across snowdrifts and rough roads, I found that the grip warmers, equipped on my ATV, were priceless, keeping my hands from clamming up too much. Finally, we dropped out of the snow level and quickly found a nice camp-site overlooking a vista of open broken ridges and unforgiving slopes littered with ponderosa, fir and plenty of wild onions; ideal black bear country. Later, we would get a better idea how steep those hills really are.
On the first evening I had already passed up my first bear, a medium-sized, brown-colored bear that fed on the other side of the canyon 340 yards away. That was one of eight bears spotted that night. Bears seem busy and always on the move. A bear would walk into a meadow and before I could get set-up it would disappear into the surrounding cover.

The second day of the hunt proved to be my most eventful day. I spotted many bears feeding on the open south-facing hills before the sun peaked over the eastern ridges. The day quickly warmed up and I found myself down a broken-back ridge, a little further away from my ATV than I would have liked. I was happy, taking-note of every natural event that unfolded around me; a colorful blue grouse strutting his charcoal fan-tail to a hen, which remained unimpressed, the descending shrill of a canyon wren, and a big coyote perched upon a bald hill watching the sunrise. A close noise caught my attention. I looked to my left and was surprised to see a glimpse of black only 100 yards away. I knew it was a bear, but it didn’t appear to be a very big one. The thick foliage made it difficult to see the bear, but I could sure see the brush moving aside as the bear broke trail….right towards me! It dawned on me the bear was only 50 yards away and closing the distance. I got to my knees and looked down at my .300 mag and my camera. What do I grab? It’s a small bear so I need to take a picture, but if it displays aggressiveness I want my rifle. Apparently, I took too long weighing out this simple task of choosing which piece of equipment I would shoot the bear with. When I looked up, a small adult bear stepped into the meadow I was in and continued towards me only twenty yards away! I then saw two little bears stumble out of the understory. I reached for my rifle and made a noise, I don’t quite remember what came out of my mouth. It was supposed to be a “whoof” but due to the circumstance it probably sounded more like a “squeak”. The sow turned around ad headed back in the direction she came. She stopped right before entering the brush, where I was able to quickly snap a photo. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to zoom in. Fortunately I have image stabilization on the camera, cause I was a little shaky! The sow “whoofed” and the cubs scurried up an old burnt ponderosa. Those handsome little cubs were quick to respond to momma’s snorts and bluffs. Five minutes later I spotted two more bears, including a honey-colored beauty.

That evening I was ready for more action, but I was hardly ready for what happened next………..I was overlooking a series of ridges when I spotted a large bear waddling out of a ponderosa stand. He was unlike any of the other bears I had seen up to that point. His legs appeared to be short, his head looked like a large bucket, and his belly hung low; all major ingredients for a big boar. I quickly found the quickest route to get within range from this big bear. Moments later, I found myself closing in on him. A steady brisk wind blew directly in my face eliminating the use of the bear’s most keen senses, his sense of smell and hearing. Dave was able to stay by my side as I shortened the distance to 40 yards. The bear was busy rolling rocks and digging bulbs from the rocky soil. Due to the topography, I could not get a good shot so I crept a little closer…then a little bit closer. I killed the big boar 30 paces away. His chocolate fur wears a blond chest patch and his weight is no smaller than 300 lbs. The weight was confirmed by Dave, my co-worker and good friend who traps nuisance bears as a profession. It was a moment I’ve dreamed about since I was old enough to read big bear stories in Field and Stream.

I soaked up the last minutes of daylight sitting next to a great friend and a heck of an Oregon bear. Randy ended up taking a 200 pound jet-black boar the last evening of the hunt after making a great stalk and a good shot. Dave, well let’s just say Dave has taken his share of bears. Dave didn’t harvest a bear, although he had his chances. Between you and I, I think his real intention for going on this extravaganza wasn’t to harvest a black bear, but to spend some time in some beautiful country and to help two “rookies” fulfill lifelong dreams.

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