Note: those of you who don’t care for the killing part of my sport may want to click on by at this point. May I suggest Robyn? She’s cute and she cusses and doesn’t kill stuff.

So Saturday morning found us back at the apple orchard, chasing that same big bastard that had got by us the previous week.

I spent a lot of time listening to dogs down by the ranger station.

Finally, they treed, and we hauled ass back out that skinny jeep road that had knocked the shit out of my truck last week. This time, I went farther, with 1/2-inch clearances on either side of the truck at one point. But when you can hear the dogs singing right up the hill, it motivates you to get there as quickly as possible. Todd and Derek and I hauled ass down and up that hill. It wasn’t very far, but it was steep and brushy. I just put my arms in front of my face and pushed on through, which earned me a lovely already-developing case of poison oak. There was a lot of sitting on my ass and just sliding down rather than tumbling head first.

When we got there, the dogs were all barking up two different trees. We looked, but no bear! He’d slipped out without them noticing somehow. We pulled them off, had to coax one up the rocks, and went back home for the day.

The next morning, Todd was surprised to get after him again in the same area. Usually they wander a little farther, but this one had a good thing going, what with the apple orchard, the acorns, and Cook’s calves nearby. Don and Hub and I again drove out to meet him and we turned the dogs out. Pretty soon, they were out of range, and we all did some driving in different directions to locate them.

Eventually, they treed the bear and we drove up another one of those tiny jeep roads. Knocked my CB antenna off and my mirrors in again. This time, Don, Todd, Derek and I walked off into the canyon; we could hear that they were partway up the other side. Since I’d already decided to shoot it if it were big, we only brought my rifle and my pistol; all of the other regular shooters had blown us off this weekend.

I was amped up enough to almost keep up with Todd and Derek, and they were still tying up dogs when I got there. I looked at the bear, but when they’re that high in the tree, I can’t really judge size. I didn’t want to mess with it if it wasn’t the big one we’d been chasing, but Derek said that it was. We three sat and looked at it while we waited for Don to get there; we took some pictures and waited for my shaking to subside. He had a nice white spot on his belly that would have been an outstanding aiming point, but he shifted before I was ready.

Eventually, though, it was time. Todd took my pistol to back me up, and I fired when ready. Derek said to aim between the eyes, so I did. The bear flew backwards out of the tree, but was still moving, so both Todd and I kept shooting. That’s what you do, because you really don’t want to mess with a wounded one on the ground.

But it was dead, which was good, because we were both out of ammunition. It was so heavy that we didn’t even consider packing it out without gutting it, so that was the next step.

The flattest way out was through the creek, but the creek wasn’t flowing enough to actually float the bear most of the time, so it was a long, laborious process of Todd hauling on it from downstream and me lifting and shoving every time it got hung up on a rock. Derek has really terrible knees, so he couldn’t risk walking on those slippery rocks underwater. After I took a dunking or two, he took my rifle and radio from me and went on a little ahead. Fortunately, I’d already given Don my camera; a stainless rifle holds up to water a whole lot better than a digital SLR!

Finally, we could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Derek came back with a couple of beers in his pack and we took a break and then he spelled me in the water. I was so exhausted that I was shaking; I’d lost feeling in my feet hours before and was just blindly aiming stumps on the ends of my legs at what I hoped would be secure footing. I lost track of the number of times that it wasn’t as secure as all that.

We got to the bank near the trucks, and the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen was hanging there where I almost missed it: the piece of lineman’s pull rope that was attached at the other end to Don’s truck to pull that bear the last hundred (vertical) feet.

It took all five of us a giant heave to get it up on the box of Todd’s truck, and then it was picture time. That bear’s head was probably three times the size of mine! The boys say that it’s the biggest one they’ve seen pulled out of there all season, which includes the other hunters’. When we called for help to get it out, all of the other rigs were mysteriously and suddenly busy when they heard which bear it was. The rancher around the corner will be pleased, as this thing was easily big enough to pick off a few calves.

After I picked up the kids and my dad appropriately oohed and ahed over it (it’s as big as the one that almost took him out before my sister was born,) I got to spend the next five hours in the back of the truck under the spotlights in the driveway, skinning it. I wanted to take the hide off in one piece to have him done up as a half-body mount. If I have a rug made, I’ll lose that spectacular white spot. He’s a good-looking bear too; nice and dark for up there and with a luxurious coat of fur. That and the two inches of fat under his hide make me think he was expecting a cold winter. I can’t quite lift the head and the hide by myself, and had to kind of drag and fling them into my game cooler!

All in all, a very successful weekend. We finally outwitted ol’ Big Bastard and I have a trophy of a lifetime just waiting on the right taxidermist. I’m delivering the meat to Wild Man tonight (and incidentally having dinner with Cowboy, since I’ll be in his town.) I’m not looking forward to the bill for having this thing mounted, but it sure will be worth it. I’ll probably never see another one this big in my lifetime.

I’ve got the bug, that’s for sure. I’m going back up on Friday, even without a tag. No more shooting for me, but I still have that camera, and I owe those boys some major pie!