Spectacular Spring Bears

BY Erin Merrill

In October, I met Jim Shockey during his stop at Cabela’s on his book tour. We talked writing, the outdoors and hunting. He invited me to come up to his Pacific Rim Outfitters on Vancouver Island and hunt spring black bears. I couldn’t say no.

The gray, rainy weather reminded me of working in Bar Harbor with fog obscuring the spectacular views. I had only a few minutes in camp to drop my bags and change before my guide R.J and cameraman Ryan, whisked me off to sight in the rifle that I would be using. It was Jim’s father’s Remington 700 300 Win Mag with a Leopold scope. Empty shells littered the ground, evidence of past shooters.

R.J placed the target at one end of the gravel pit then joined me and Ryan.

“It is not sighted in so don’t worry if you’re off “ R.J said to reassure me.

I found the target in the scope and squeezing the trigger. I watched the top right corner flutter.

“I think I’m high and to the right,” I replied, lowering the gun.

Bull’s Eye

R.J paused looking through his binoculars, “I think it’s a bullseye.” I just laughed. I don’t hit that well when I am aiming at animals. The three of us walked to the target and in disbelief, there it was. One shot. In the center of the bullseye. R.J smiled, “Looks good to me. Let’s go hunt.”

It was almost 6 p.m. as we turned off the pavement and on to the dirt road. The rain had stopped and the clouds were clearing. Bear hunting on Vancouver Island is spot and stalk, a method that I had never done before. I was not sure what to expect but quickly realized it was a cross between the way we moose hunt and interact with deer; drive the roads looking for bears and when you see one, they will either stop and look at you, take a few steps before stopping to look at you or hightail it far away from you. We saw three bears and some stunning country before returning to camp that night.

The next morning, we headed to the opposite side of the island to hunt. The dirt roads, high in the mountains, were narrow with nothing stopping us from plunging over the edge. A few times, I had to look inside the truck to get my mind off the sharpness of the cliff next to me. Parts of the terrain reminded me of the novel “The Great Glorious Goddamn of It All” by Josh Ritter, which highlights the lives and deaths of the early lumberjacks attempting to cut massive trees from the sides of the mountains.

Ryan, R.J and I saw one bear in the morning and decided to glass from the top of one of the mountains. Fog and rain set in as we reached the peak so we ate cold turkey and cheese sandwiches in the truck and planned our afternoon. We would hunt down by the water as the tide went out and then slowly make our way back to camp.

I was grateful for all of the permethrin clothing I had on! Black flies and no-see-ums hovered all around me as we sat watching for a black mass to appear in the grass. I took it all in; the large forest and ferns that we walked through to reach our spot and the open, beautiful meadow that we watched for hours. It was about 4 p.m. when we decided to move on to the next spot.

The Bear

As we came around one corner, there was a bear in the road. It turned and ran but not fast enough for us to think he might be in a full on run. R.J parked the truck and we decided to walk a bit. Perhaps we could sneak up on it and get a shot. Paw prints along the side of the road showed that the bear had gone a ways before it slipped into the thick brush. Ryan asked us to continue walking so that he could take photos and videos of us. The sun was almost in our eyes as we crested the first hill. In the same way you can hear a deer walking, we could hear a bear.

R.J and Ryan knew that I didn’t care what sort of bear I shot. It could be half bald from rubbing off its winter coat and I would still shoot it. R.J had me stop and we set up for the bear to walk out into the road. We could hear it behind a berry bush 20 yards away. Ryan stood off to my left, recording the entire thing. I took a big, deep breath and looked through the scope. An all-black face appeared. Completely black.

He turned and ran up the next hill. R.J made loud huffing noises in an attempt to peak his interest and get him to stop. And he did. The bear turned broadside for a moment at 48 yards, to look behind him and I squeezed the trigger. Through the scope, I watched him jump sideways and spin into the thick landscape. Nine seconds. From the time that I saw him poke his head out to the time that I shot him was just nine seconds.

Celebration

Ryan and I waited while R.J walked back to get the truck. We celebrated and watched the video. Thirty minutes later, they were taking more photos and skinning the bear out in the woods and cutting off as much meat as we possibly could to bring back to camp. The wonderful thing about having guides is that I hauled the guns and extra gear out of the woods while Ryan carried the bear hide and R.J carried a pack filled with almost 100lbs of meat. I tried the pack on before we loaded it into the truck; had I been the one to haul that out of the woods, I would have ended up like a turtle on my back unable to move. Three cheers for capable guides!!

The entire camp celebrated, toasted the hunt and watched the video. R.J, Ryan and I shared our perspective of how it happened and enjoyed the fact that my tag was punched and we could relax. It will truly be a trip that I will always remember!

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