I Dreamt a Brown Bear Was in My Tent. Then One Actually Walked into Camp

Each bear story wants a bear. Mine appeared on day 5 of a hunt within the Togiak Nationwide Wildlife Refuge in Alaska a few years in the past. I used to be asleep in a tent manufactured from yellow canvas so vibrant it could put a faculty bus to disgrace. The tent was sturdy, Alaskan-made, with triple-stitched seams and supported by heavy aluminum poles robust sufficient to resist being buried in snow or the pressure of a gale. It had a strengthened and insulated flap for the metallic pipe of a wood-burning range, however the flap was closed, sealed towards the weather. There was no range. We had a chilly camp. No fires allowed.

The one supply of warmth was that which our our bodies may generate, helped out by sizzling espresso and cider that we cooked on a small range after which gulped down half a cup at a time with a purpose to get the steaming fluids into ourselves earlier than they cooled within the bitter air.

I saved my rifle subsequent to my cot, journal full, chamber empty. We have been camped on the stony shore of a big lake, utilizing a tangle of willows as a windbreak. The shoreline was suffering from the desiccated carcasses of sockeye salmon, withered and leathery. The chilly was a mercy in that respect. It saved the odor to a minimal. If it had been heat, the stench of lots of of rotting salmon would have been overpowering.

The berry crop that summer season had been poor, forcing the bears to focus on salmon greater than regular. Their long-clawed tracks, rimmed with frost, ran up and down the rocky seashore, some as broad as my hand with my thumb and pinkie unfold to full width.

One way or the other the bear was in my tent, and in a psychological fog I shot it thrice. Blood streamed from its mouth and snout, and it died with its large head in my lap. Probably the most curious sensation was the shortage of malice from both the bear or me. The entire state of affairs simply was. After which I awoke, the vivid dream receding earlier than the sunshine from my headlamp as I scanned the within of my tent and appeared down at my .375 on the ground.

Wind and Waves

Hours later, when the solar rose, I stepped outdoors bundled in a number of layers of garments to greet the day. The spitting snow and biting wind pressured my head down.

I scurried to the camp kitchen, which consisted of three giant tarps that had been strung within the willows with sufficient line to rig a man-of-war. The tarps fashioned a barrier wall and a low ceiling. They popped and snapped within the wind however stayed in place.

Information Les Bragdon poured half a cup of espresso into my mug, which I began on straight away.

“There’s a bear proper over there on the seashore,” he mentioned pointing throughout the lake. In his Maine accent, the phrases got here out as thar, bahr, and ovah. “However that sonofa whore would possibly as properly be on the darkish facet of the moon. We’d want a ship to get there, and it’s too windy for ours.”

I watched the whitecaps break towards the seashore, pounding the shore and churning the lifeless salmon within the spume, and I used to be glad we wouldn’t be preventing the waves in our inflatable raft. Mountain climbing to the bear wasn’t potential as a result of the river on the lake’s outlet was too broad and deep to cross, even with chest waders. By way of my binocular I watched the bear stroll alongside the lake earlier than it disappeared into the bush.

Les’ salty vocabulary was one byproduct of his years within the Navy. One other was his cheerful indifference towards the climate. Like all seasoned sailor, he regarded the chilly and moist as mere details of life. Nothing private.

He appeared the half, too. Round his waist was a leather-based belt held up by suspenders that supported his Ka-Bar knife, normal concern canteen, flashlight, Leatherman, and spare cartridges for the peep-sighted pre-’64 Mannequin 70 in .375 H&H that was at all times inside arm’s attain. The patrol cap on his head bore a First Class Petty Officer’s eagle and bars. At 64 years previous, Les was powerful as an oak rootball. Solely after the temperature dipped into the teenagers did he trouble with gloves.

My searching accomplice, Linda Powell, who handles public relations for Mossberg, joined us on the range, smiling and stamping her toes on the frozen floor and holding out her mug, which Les crammed. Pat McDonough, the opposite information, was pouring pancake batter right into a sizzling pan, as photographer Peter Bohler snapped photos round camp.

By this time within the hunt, the 5 of us had settled into a snug routine. After breakfast we’d hump up the hill behind camp to get to excessive floor to glass. We spent the primary few days nestled up there within the spongy tundra, scanning the lake and mountains and alder thickets for a lumbering silhouette.

The bears we had seen have been small, principally sows with cubs. This puzzled Les and Pat since they knew this space held quite a lot of huge boars. However for some motive they weren’t entering into the open.

We noticed loads of different recreation, nonetheless. We watched caribou transfer throughout the panorama, taking purposeful strides towards the Bering Sea in a rush to get to their wintering grounds, dipping their heads once in a while to seize a morsel.

Over the course of two afternoons, a wolverine appeared on a hill under ours. It was feeding on the carcass of some unlucky critter, giving no heed to the outrage voiced by the ravens it kicked off the meat. As soon as it had its fill, it galloped over to a close-by mountain, operating up and down the mountainside in a seemly random style and doing no matter it’s that wolverines do.

Patriot Video games

One motivation behind this hunt was to check out Mossberg’s then-brand-new Patriot rifle chambered in .375 Ruger. The Patriot has been an enormous deal for Mossberg. It’s a strong and useful bolt gun, and from an aesthetic standpoint, it’s the best-looking big-game rifle the corporate has ever produced. It’s additionally the primary Mossberg to be chambered in a dangerous-­recreation caliber.

The .375 Ruger is considered one of our most fashionable cartridges. It exceeds the efficiency of the basic .375 H&H, and does so in a shorter-length motion. Due to its rimless design, sharp shoulder, and gradual taper, the case has extra capability than the .375 H&H. Since its introduction in 2007, it has established fame in Africa and North America on recreation that likes to struggle again.

The opposite motivation was private. Linda has been good friend for a very long time, and we had talked for years about doing a brown bear hunt collectively. The brand new Patriot gave us the proper excuse.

Undesirable Guests

Later within the day of my bear dream, the winds died down. We determined to take a ship experience to the opposite facet of the lake to go searching. Whereas we have been there, the whump-whump-whump of a helicopter crammed the skies and a Blackhawk cruised overhead, banking back and forth alongside the lake. It landed a few miles away, on the lake’s far finish. The crew of the helicopter unloaded some gear, and we may hear the faint pop-pop of gunfire as they took turns taking pictures on the seashore.

This set a collection of occasions in movement that culminated months later in an apology from the commanding common of the Alaska Nationwide Guard. Not solely was this a poor use of our tax {dollars}, however helicopters are forbidden within the refuge, and casually taking pictures up the countryside is a no-no as properly. After some investigating, we discovered {that a} helicopter had been in our space earlier than we arrived as properly.

Anybody who’s hunted huge bears is aware of they’re delicate to strain. Small surprise we by no means noticed a mature boar throughout our week there. It was a expensive stroke of dangerous luck.

Take Two

Our clothing store, Rick Grant of Tikchik Airventures, was understandably livid as the small print of the skylarking Blackhawk turned recognized. Although it was by no means his fault, he labored with us to arrange one other bear hunt final fall to attempt once more.

Rick took us to a distinct a part of the refuge in early September, and as he banked his Otter over the tiny lake, Linda and I noticed that camp was already arrange with army precision. The aircraft’s pontoons splashed down, and as Rick feathered the throttles to information it to shore, Les was standing in hip boots within the crystal-clear water, ready for us.

Since flying and searching in the identical day is neither moral nor authorized, we needed to wait till the subsequent morning to go after bears. In contrast to the climate in the course of the earlier yr’s hunt, which happened on the finish of October and in the course of the onset of winter, it was gentle.

As earlier than, we climbed to excessive floor behind camp to glass. This yr, nonetheless, the land had produced a wealthy bounty. I ate blueberries, cranberries, and crowberries by the handful as we walked, pausing solely to select away the lengthy strands of gold and brown fur that acquired caught on my palms after reaching down.

A lightweight rain fell, cooling us off. We had a mountain at our again and a 270-degree view throughout a panorama that stretched for miles in each path.

We noticed bears in all places. We noticed them excessive within the mountains that have been in entrance of us. Out on the flats to both facet. Working the banks of the rivers and lakes close by, gorging themselves on silver salmon. We counted at the least 9, however none have been notably shut and we mentioned by which path we’d go after lunch to make a stalk.

After the meal, we had time to kill earlier than heading out. I went to my tent, stripped all the way down to my lengthy johns, laid my rifle subsequent to my cot, closed my eyes, and dozed. The following factor I heard was Les’ voice floating in my head in an pressing whisper: “John. John! There’s a bahr in camp. Rise up.”

It was no dream this time. I stepped into my camp slippers — fuzzy-lined camo Crocs, in the event you should know — grabbed my rifle and adopted Les towards the prepare dinner tent. I noticed the bear about 100 yards away on the hill proper behind us, shifting parallel to the camp.

“That’s bahr! Shoot it!” Les mentioned.

I used to be standing in shoulder-high alders and needed to take a few steps to the facet to get a transparent shot. The bear stopped and turned, quartering our approach. I fired offhand and hit the bear, then ran the bolt and fired once more, and once more. Inside a few seconds I had put three bullets into the bear and it collapsed within the tundra.

“By god, that’s some shootin’!” Les mentioned as he slapped my again. The bear was lifeless after we acquired to it, and after congratulations, photos, and skinning it out, Linda and I tucked into our provide of bourbon to rejoice.

The following morning, we once more climbed the hill and noticed various bears. One was angling towards the far finish of our lake, about 2 miles away, and we determined to place a stalk on.

To intercept the bear, we dropped down into camp to skirt the lake. However at that second we observed one other bear, this one simply 300 yards in entrance of us, heading our approach. We may inform it was a good-size boar and we scrambled to get into place for a shot. Linda acquired arrange on taking pictures sticks, and the subsequent time we noticed the bear it had closed the hole to lower than 100 yards. One shot from her rifle and the bear fell, and the celebrating began once more.

After the chilly, barren hunt the yr earlier than, which had been spoiled by intruders, this was a exceptional flip of occasions. Two bears in two days inside a stone’s throw of camp. For us, the second time was the attraction.

This story first appeared in Outside Life in July 2016.