Alberta Bear with "The Outlaws"
This was my first spring bear hunt in Alberta and I really did not know what to expect. I followed the same protocol as I have with previous outfitted hunts. Multiple phone calls to references, background checks on the outfitter ect, but as you can relate. I always feel that I may have missed something.
Since I live in Bangkok Thailand for 10 months of each year and thus am precluded from owning a firearm in Asia, I am usually at the mercy at what the outfitter provides. This is risky, but after making arrangements for "loaner rifles" on other occasions with reputable outfitters, I have yet to be let down. I do however miss using my own firearms, but it is definitely more economical on flights to arrange a loaner. Usually my northern hunts require me to fly directly to the hunting area from Thailand and return to Thailand after the hunt. Doing this saves me two trips to Georgia to pick up a rifle that I have not fired in at least a year, so I guess the odds are about the same. The thought of having it sent via courier scares me, as I have heard too many horror stories to trust this method. And with the ever changing gun laws, who knows what could happen.
After 5 months of planning and anticipation, I was on my way. I arrived in Edmonton, Alberta from Bangkok on a Friday to pick up some additional gear. I was fortune enough to meet the group that had returned from camp the previous week. Of the 7 hunter in camp that week, a total of 9 bears were taken and 4 others passed over. The group seemed more than happy with the hunt, but made comments about the abnormally warm weather for this time of the year. Later that night I met the two other hunter that I would share camp with for that week. I was impressed with the success of the last group of hunters but more impressed with the knowledge that there would only be 3 hunters in camp for that week.
I met my guide Frank Raymond at the precise planned time the following morning. After exchanging a few introductions we loaded the van and headed out for a 7 hour drive north to a remote area some 150 miles north of Red Earth Alberta.
After parking in a staging spot off the dirt road in the middle of God's country, I was sure that we were at camp. Wrong assumption as we proceeded to load our gear into an eight wheeled tracked ATV called an ARGO for a 3 hour trip into camp. I must confess after a 19 hour flight, very few hours of sleep and a10 hour trip to camp, I was never so happy to see the foam mattress on the spring coils of the bunk house. I knew that I would be able to have plenty of rest the next day and decided to help out in any way I could.
First priority was to check out the rifle. I set up a 5 gallon bucket at about 50 yards and was able to group two shots 1 inch apart on the bulls eye. Better than I expected. The gun, not me.
During that night, we had the traditional first night feast, and a few adult cocktails in the cook house. I was amazed at some of the stories that each had to share. The other two hunters in camp, Mr. Marvin Oliver is a lawyer from California and Mr Ron Saundsburg is a Company Executive from Michigan. Both had hunted with Frank before on one or more hunts. I felt slightly like the outsider as I was new to the group, but soon found out that Frank and his guides had once worked in the offshore drilling industry. We closed our night by pairing up guides with hunters. I would be with Frank's son Shane.
Call me crazy, but sometimes you get a positive feeling about the hunt before you set foot in the woods. Indeed this feeling was with me as I explained this to Shane on the ride to the stand the next evening. I even made a joke about hating to tag out the first night, but I really felt positive about this hunt.
The first night out Shane and I arrived at my stand at around 18:00, we were a bit surprised to see that the bait station had been hit since Shane had checked it earlier in the day. Shane told me that several huge black bears had been taken from this stand in previous years and from the destruction and print site around the bait, a big one was definitely around.
The weather in Northern Alberta was rather hot and dry for this time of the year and with the many fires within 100 miles of us we were hoping that this would not have an effect on the hunt. I was forewarned about the bugs and tried to prepare myself , but ended up putting on heavy hunting clothing dispute the heat.
Within 2 hours on the stand, the wind started to pick up and to my misfortune it was blowing directly to the bait pile.
With this in mind, I started to worry and looked at my watch to see what time it was. As I looked back up, a black shadow out of the thicket slowly appeared. I watched the bear and conducted a mental inventory of everything I had been told about black bears. As the bear slowly approached the back of the bait drum, I could clearly see that he was almost 3/4 the size of the barrels height. I remembered being told any bear better that 1/2 the height of the drum was a shooter. Upon watching the bear to ensure that no cubs were around, I could clearly see that this one had no intentions of staying around. As I moved into position to take the 40 yard shot, the bear had winded something in my direction.( Me or the sardines I had opened and spread around)
Indeed this was a shooter and it was now or never. I slowly eased the 35 whelen rifle placing the cross hairs on the tip of the shoulder and squeezed the trigger.
With the roar of the shot, the bear hunched up and ran at record speed to the thicket 15 yards from where he stood before I could get a second round racked into the chamber. I knew the shot was good from the way the bear hunched up like a heart shot deer. But figured the 200 grain hand loads should have dropped him in his tracks. As the wind continued to blow, I could slightly hear the bear crashing through the thicket, but never heard it fall or what other hunters call the "Death Cry"
Then the shakes started in. Trust me, I have taken some nice whitetail and other big game, but never before has the buck fever set in as hard as it did when this black ghost appeared out of nowhere. I waited 1 hour before calming down enough to leave the stand to look for sign of a well placed shot. Knowing that the guide would not return until after dark, I decided to walk over to the place where the bear was standing and look for blood. Without hardly looking, I saw a saucer size puddle of dark and pink blood that indicated a good heart/lung shot. It was early in the day and I did not want to start tracking a big bear into a thicket alone. Especially wit the guide and camp being 2 hours away and if in the event I was injured, it would at least 5 hours to a location to receive medical treatment. With this in mind, I decided to return to the tree stand and wait for the guide to come and help me track it.
I was happy with my first nights success and felt the follow up would be an easy one. I started to rethink the shot and looked at my watch to see that it would be at least 4 more hours until Shane returned. I guess I was a little too relaxed and leaned the gun across the rifle rest, propped my feet up and leaned back against the tree to wait for my guide. I again looked at my watch to see that it was 20:10. In my rethinking the shot the day dream was interrupted by a small crunch and the sound of sniffing. As I looked over my right shoulder to the ground below the tree, I almost jumped out of the stand with the sight of the second bear looking at me eye to eye.
I froze and let him make his decision. I knew that there was no chance for me to get out of my relaxed position and get a shot off before the bear bolted or otherwise decided he wanted to see what was in the tree. I decided to stay motionless, (Mainly out of shock) and sighed a relief as the bear walked on towards the bait past my stand.
A serious thought of tagging out the first night crossed my mind, but this bear was definitely larger than the first and the choice was made, I would take the shot. After all My goal was to take two large black bears. Later I would find that doing this was the right decision. I watched the bear cautiously ease towards the bait pile. He was now down wind of me and the thought of having two bears to track was not an idea either the guide or I would look forward to.
I slowly moved to get into position, having to stop two times as with every little noise I made the bear return his attention to my stand. I waited and watched the bear as he turned to circle the bait. I placed the cross hairs on his shoulder, fired and watched him drop on the spot. When he stopped all movement, I climbed down and cautiously approached my 6'4" trophy bear. The thrill was too much and after looking over this trophy, I decided that I would cautiously attempt to find the first bear before light got low. I slowly entered into the thicket following the blood trail with one finger on the trigger and the other on the safety. To my surprise, the thicket opened up into a marsh at the bottom of a hill. I climbed on top of a large log and scanned the area. There he was motionless but facing the area from where he came. I watched the downed bear to ensure that he was dead. I was still wondering why he had ran off 20 yards and turned to face where he was shot. Who knows maybe his intentions was to have someone follow immediately after him and he could gain his revenge. Or maybe it was just the final position he ended up in. I slowly moved towards my downed trophy and cautiously prodded him with the rifle.
This 5'11" trophy was definitely dead. I had to stop and pay respect to him and said a silent thank you to the higher being that allows us to live to see moments such as these. I then returned to my stand to wait for Shane to return.
I think Shane was just as happy as I was with the two bears as I was in taking them. I never realized bear guides have such a hard job during the season. These guys do it as a labor of love. It does indeed involve many hours of hard work. The way I see it, the guides are just as much as the ones who takes the bear as the one who pulls the trigger.
We were the last one in camp that evening and I figured I would play it off a little bit. I walked into the cook house to find that the two other hunters had an unsuccessful night. I threw my cap across the table and said to Frank, " I want my money back and a trip out of this place tomorrow!" I can't begin to describe the expression upon his face. I proceeded to say "If you have any bears around here they must be invisible" As he started to speak, I figure I better stop before things got ugly. I started to laugh and said no, My hunt with you is over. His slight expression of anger turned to one of confusion when I said "My two are up at the skinning rack"
This was a must see thing for all of us in camp as we walked up the hill to the skinning rack where my two bears awaited skinning. Congratulations were in order as these were indeed two nice bears.
Other than the great fishing, the rest of the week went uneventful. The winds picked up and a haze of smoke from the forest fires drifted into our area. This combined with the high temperatures had the bears patterns unpredictable. Marvin Oliver was fortunate to take a nice bear on the last night of the hunt, but Ron ended up unsuccessful.
Then I spent the rest to the time fishing for some mighty fine pike!
For me, it was great to have some of the best fishing in Canada to look forward to while passing the mornings and afternoons in bear camp. Although my hunt was over in the first night the fishing in itself made up for the rest of the week in camp.
This secluded lake is one of many in Canada that was unnamed As I looked around the lake, seeing old cabins built many years ago by the natives, I could only picture a family depending on what sustenance the land provided to meet the basic needs of life. With this thought I could only think how living in those times was pure, simple and a way not many people could survive today.
I thought I would never say it but after a week of fishing I was tired of fish. My hands were cut up and shoulder sore from using the oar with one hand and casting with another. Thinking back some months later, the fishing trip alone was worth the price of the hunt. In closing this story, I would like to thank Frank and son Shane Raymond for allowing me to share a part of the outdoors that belonged to nature. I hope places like this last forever and look forward to my next trip with Frank Raymond's outlaws guide service.
As a life member of NACH, who has hunted with many outfitters I highly suggest if you want to hunt in Alberta, contact Frank Raymond of Outlaws Guiding and Outfitting @403-556-2713. You can bet I will be back for Bears, Elk, Cougar and Wood Bison. This man lives up to his word and makes camp an adventure. I can honestly say even if I did not take my bears and catch more fish than I could ever eat in two life times, I would go back for the fun and friendship these professionals have to offer.
Click above to return to the Thumper's Swamp!
Alberta Bear with "The Outlaws"
Since I live in Bangkok Thailand for 10 months of each year and thus am precluded from owning a firearm in Asia, I am usually at the mercy at what the outfitter provides. This is risky, but after making arrangements for "loaner rifles" on other occasions with reputable outfitters, I have yet to be let down. I do however miss using my own firearms, but it is definitely more economical on flights to arrange a loaner. Usually my northern hunts require me to fly directly to the hunting area from Thailand and return to Thailand after the hunt. Doing this saves me two trips to Georgia to pick up a rifle that I have not fired in at least a year, so I guess the odds are about the same. The thought of having it sent via courier scares me, as I have heard too many horror stories to trust this method. And with the ever changing gun laws, who knows what could happen.
After 5 months of planning and anticipation, I was on my way. I arrived in Edmonton, Alberta from Bangkok on a Friday to pick up some additional gear. I was fortune enough to meet the group that had returned from camp the previous week. Of the 7 hunter in camp that week, a total of 9 bears were taken and 4 others passed over. The group seemed more than happy with the hunt, but made comments about the abnormally warm weather for this time of the year. Later that night I met the two other hunter that I would share camp with for that week. I was impressed with the success of the last group of hunters but more impressed with the knowledge that there would only be 3 hunters in camp for that week.
I met my guide Frank Raymond at the precise planned time the following morning. After exchanging a few introductions we loaded the van and headed out for a 7 hour drive north to a remote area some 150 miles north of Red Earth Alberta. After parking in a staging spot off the dirt road in the middle of God's country, I was sure that we were at camp. Wrong assumption as we proceeded to load our gear into an eight wheeled tracked ATV called an ARGO for a 3 hour trip into camp. I must confess after a 19 hour flight, very few hours of sleep and a10 hour trip to camp, I was never so happy to see the foam mattress on the spring coils of the bunk house. I knew that I would be able to have plenty of rest the next day and decided to help out in any way I could.
First priority was to check out the rifle. I set up a 5 gallon bucket at about 50 yards and was able to group two shots 1 inch apart on the bulls eye. Better than I expected. The gun, not me.
During that night, we had the traditional first night feast, and a few adult cocktails in the cook house. I was amazed at some of the stories that each had to share. The other two hunters in camp, Mr. Marvin Oliver is a lawyer from California and Mr Ron Saundsburg is a Company Executive from Michigan. Both had hunted with Frank before on one or more hunts. I felt slightly like the outsider as I was new to the group, but soon found out that Frank and his guides had once worked in the offshore drilling industry. We closed our night by pairing up guides with hunters. I would be with Frank's son Shane.
Call me crazy, but sometimes you get a positive feeling about the hunt before you set foot in the woods. Indeed this feeling was with me as I explained this to Shane on the ride to the stand the next evening. I even made a joke about hating to tag out the first night, but I really felt positive about this hunt.
The first night out Shane and I arrived at my stand at around 18:00, we were a bit surprised to see that the bait station had been hit since Shane had checked it earlier in the day. Shane told me that several huge black bears had been taken from this stand in previous years and from the destruction and print site around the bait, a big one was definitely around. The weather in Northern Alberta was rather hot and dry for this time of the year and with the many fires within 100 miles of us we were hoping that this would not have an effect on the hunt. I was forewarned about the bugs and tried to prepare myself , but ended up putting on heavy hunting clothing dispute the heat. Within 2 hours on the stand, the wind started to pick up and to my misfortune it was blowing directly to the bait pile. With this in mind, I started to worry and looked at my watch to see what time it was. As I looked back up, a black shadow out of the thicket slowly appeared. I watched the bear and conducted a mental inventory of everything I had been told about black bears. As the bear slowly approached the back of the bait drum, I could clearly see that he was almost 3/4 the size of the barrels height. I remembered being told any bear better that 1/2 the height of the drum was a shooter. Upon watching the bear to ensure that no cubs were around, I could clearly see that this one had no intentions of staying around. As I moved into position to take the 40 yard shot, the bear had winded something in my direction.( Me or the sardines I had opened and spread around)
Indeed this was a shooter and it was now or never. I slowly eased the 35 whelen rifle placing the cross hairs on the tip of the shoulder and squeezed the trigger. With the roar of the shot, the bear hunched up and ran at record speed to the thicket 15 yards from where he stood before I could get a second round racked into the chamber. I knew the shot was good from the way the bear hunched up like a heart shot deer. But figured the 200 grain hand loads should have dropped him in his tracks. As the wind continued to blow, I could slightly hear the bear crashing through the thicket, but never heard it fall or what other hunters call the "Death Cry"
Then the shakes started in. Trust me, I have taken some nice whitetail and other big game, but never before has the buck fever set in as hard as it did when this black ghost appeared out of nowhere. I waited 1 hour before calming down enough to leave the stand to look for sign of a well placed shot. Knowing that the guide would not return until after dark, I decided to walk over to the place where the bear was standing and look for blood. Without hardly looking, I saw a saucer size puddle of dark and pink blood that indicated a good heart/lung shot. It was early in the day and I did not want to start tracking a big bear into a thicket alone. Especially wit the guide and camp being 2 hours away and if in the event I was injured, it would at least 5 hours to a location to receive medical treatment. With this in mind, I decided to return to the tree stand and wait for the guide to come and help me track it. I was happy with my first nights success and felt the follow up would be an easy one. I started to rethink the shot and looked at my watch to see that it would be at least 4 more hours until Shane returned. I guess I was a little too relaxed and leaned the gun across the rifle rest, propped my feet up and leaned back against the tree to wait for my guide. I again looked at my watch to see that it was 20:10. In my rethinking the shot the day dream was interrupted by a small crunch and the sound of sniffing. As I looked over my right shoulder to the ground below the tree, I almost jumped out of the stand with the sight of the second bear looking at me eye to eye. I froze and let him make his decision. I knew that there was no chance for me to get out of my relaxed position and get a shot off before the bear bolted or otherwise decided he wanted to see what was in the tree. I decided to stay motionless, (Mainly out of shock) and sighed a relief as the bear walked on towards the bait past my stand.
A serious thought of tagging out the first night crossed my mind, but this bear was definitely larger than the first and the choice was made, I would take the shot. After all My goal was to take two large black bears. Later I would find that doing this was the right decision. I watched the bear cautiously ease towards the bait pile. He was now down wind of me and the thought of having two bears to track was not an idea either the guide or I would look forward to. I slowly moved to get into position, having to stop two times as with every little noise I made the bear return his attention to my stand. I waited and watched the bear as he turned to circle the bait. I placed the cross hairs on his shoulder, fired and watched him drop on the spot. When he stopped all movement, I climbed down and cautiously approached my 6'4" trophy bear. The thrill was too much and after looking over this trophy, I decided that I would cautiously attempt to find the first bear before light got low. I slowly entered into the thicket following the blood trail with one finger on the trigger and the other on the safety. To my surprise, the thicket opened up into a marsh at the bottom of a hill. I climbed on top of a large log and scanned the area. There he was motionless but facing the area from where he came. I watched the downed bear to ensure that he was dead. I was still wondering why he had ran off 20 yards and turned to face where he was shot. Who knows maybe his intentions was to have someone follow immediately after him and he could gain his revenge. Or maybe it was just the final position he ended up in. I slowly moved towards my downed trophy and cautiously prodded him with the rifle. This 5'11" trophy was definitely dead. I had to stop and pay respect to him and said a silent thank you to the higher being that allows us to live to see moments such as these. I then returned to my stand to wait for Shane to return.
I think Shane was just as happy as I was with the two bears as I was in taking them. I never realized bear guides have such a hard job during the season. These guys do it as a labor of love. It does indeed involve many hours of hard work. The way I see it, the guides are just as much as the ones who takes the bear as the one who pulls the trigger.
We were the last one in camp that evening and I figured I would play it off a little bit. I walked into the cook house to find that the two other hunters had an unsuccessful night. I threw my cap across the table and said to Frank, " I want my money back and a trip out of this place tomorrow!" I can't begin to describe the expression upon his face. I proceeded to say "If you have any bears around here they must be invisible" As he started to speak, I figure I better stop before things got ugly. I started to laugh and said no, My hunt with you is over. His slight expression of anger turned to one of confusion when I said "My two are up at the skinning rack"
This was a must see thing for all of us in camp as we walked up the hill to the skinning rack where my two bears awaited skinning. Congratulations were in order as these were indeed two nice bears. Other than the great fishing, the rest of the week went uneventful. The winds picked up and a haze of smoke from the forest fires drifted into our area. This combined with the high temperatures had the bears patterns unpredictable. Marvin Oliver was fortunate to take a nice bear on the last night of the hunt, but Ron ended up unsuccessful.
Then I spent the rest to the time fishing for some mighty fine pike!
For me, it was great to have some of the best fishing in Canada to look forward to while passing the mornings and afternoons in bear camp. Although my hunt was over in the first night the fishing in itself made up for the rest of the week in camp. This secluded lake is one of many in Canada that was unnamed As I looked around the lake, seeing old cabins built many years ago by the natives, I could only picture a family depending on what sustenance the land provided to meet the basic needs of life. With this thought I could only think how living in those times was pure, simple and a way not many people could survive today. I thought I would never say it but after a week of fishing I was tired of fish. My hands were cut up and shoulder sore from using the oar with one hand and casting with another. Thinking back some months later, the fishing trip alone was worth the price of the hunt. In closing this story, I would like to thank Frank and son Shane Raymond for allowing me to share a part of the outdoors that belonged to nature. I hope places like this last forever and look forward to my next trip with Frank Raymond's outlaws guide service.
As a life member of NACH, who has hunted with many outfitters I highly suggest if you want to hunt in Alberta, contact Frank Raymond of Outlaws Guiding and Outfitting @403-556-2713. You can bet I will be back for Bears, Elk, Cougar and Wood Bison. This man lives up to his word and makes camp an adventure. I can honestly say even if I did not take my bears and catch more fish than I could ever eat in two life times, I would go back for the fun and friendship these professionals have to offer.
Click above to return to the Thumper's Swamp!