I just returned from a stint overseas and I was itching for something that was the opposite of the desert. I knew some states had BB hunting in the spring and I wanted to get as far away from San Diego as possible, so I bought a tag in Montana. The local bow shop owner explained that some of the best bear hunting is in Northern California, and ask me why I was trekking all the way to Montana, I responded “yeah but it’s not Montana”. The last week of April I was headed North. As always, I did as much research as one could on the internet and google earth. The landscape and where I hunt means a lot to me.
For me hunting is about filling a tag in a region that soothes the soul, a landscape that makes you excited to wake up at 4 a.m. in order to get out to a vantage point before daylight, then repeating for ten days straight. I picked Northwest Montana because it appeared the landscape had enough canyon country that provided good glassing and long-range shooting opportunities (I used google earth’s measuring tool to measure the distance between canyons). As I made my way through the northern part of Montana the towns got smaller and the distance between them increased.
The last town was called Yaak, a few miles from the Canadian border, it had one small store and two opposing saloons across the almost one lane road. I loved it. Throughout the 10 days hunting the area, at night I went down to one of the two bars and had the largest hamburger and a cold beer (this was not a 15 mile pack-in wilderness, count every ounce, roughing it hunt). Out of the days there I did venture 60 miles south to hunt the Cabinet Wilderness for a day. Known for its transplanted grizzlies from the Bob Marshall and ridge lines that connect the mountains, it was definitely not country for the faint hearted or poor physical shape.
It was end of April. This made crossing the small rivers with boots over-head resulting in red skinned legs from the snowmelt water fun (my kind of character building hunt). The Cabinet was some beautiful country. The issue I ran into is lack of vantage points, it’s too large of country for the long range hunters, what I mean is the mountains are too far apart, they go from 5000’ to 8000’, all of them, there are no foothills. This meant that when I to scaled an avalanche chute to gain more visibility, the cross-canyon distance would quickly increase cutting down on shot availability, my cut off was around 1300yrds, conditions permitting. In the Cabinet, that distance is reached if you’re a mere ¼ way up the mountain allowing you a shot at just the bottom ¼ of the adjacent mountain. Illustration:
In the essence of productivity with limited time, despite having all the intentions of camping out for a couple nights and enjoying the peacefulness of a wilderness, I went back up into the Yaac region. After a week of getting familiar with clear-cut areas I developed a schedule. I would canyon hunt clear-cuts that faced east so the sun was to my back for glassing purposes, I spent mid-day walking logging roads, the grassier the better (bears eat an enormous amount of green foliage in the spring in order to discreet the fecal plug created during hibernation that prevents them from soiling themselves). I would spend my afternoons and evenings with the sun to my back glassing clear-cuts that faced west.
On several occasions I saw black bear using this method and it made glassing much less tiresome on the eyes with the sun at the back. However, the bears I saw were just out of range for me to make a comfortable shot, or on one occasion my gun, shooting sock and Kestrel were all in the jeep and I couldn’t get set up in time before it disappeared. LL#1. I did this routine for 6 days straight. The second to last day, around midafternoon, I was walking a logging road when I saw a BB 120y away. Regrettably I left the bow back in the Jeep the last few days in order to ensure if I saw something near or far, I could hopefully close the deal.
LL#2. I saw him before he saw me when I broached the bend in the road, his head was down munching on grass. Textbook. He was quartering away, and the .338 Lapua loaded with 300g OTM Hybrids dropped him straight to his belly. I spent the next hour dragging him back to the jeep with a rope around his front legs. Instead of quartering him out on the spot due to it getting dark, I didn’t want to be a quartering him, at night, on an old overgrown logging road, with my head down not paying attention to my surroundings, common sense stuff. So, I gutted him and dragged him back to the Jeep. I’m a fit person and I have squatted and deadlifted my whole adult life. After the first attempt of lifting the bear into the back of my jeep in order to take him to Yaak in one piece and use a spreader bar, I quartered him on the spot and threw the meat piece by piece into the Yeti inside the jeep via my headlamp.
A couple hours later I rolled through Yaak, added salt to preserve the hide, put the meat on ice, and took advantage of a shower in a cabin that’s usually rented out to hunters in the fall. As I was driving down the switchback filled road from Yaac towards Troy MT I thought about my time in these northern Montana woods. According to the Garmin I averaged 10 miles a day. I had blisters all over my feet, every muscle fiber ached, and I was constantly picking ticks out of every crevice; including 24 hours later when I was in Utah driving home and I felt one crawling up my neck. Evidently I had brought them into the jeep at night. I love this. This is what I live for.
The more painful the journey the greater the reward. The priceless views and encounters in the outdoors was overwhelming, I saw an abundant amount of deer, a wolf, a couple moose, one of which was a within 10yrds of me before exploding away (I’m sure a quick draw record with my bear pistol was broke). I hiked 14 miles on the Pacific Northwest National Scenic Trail. I bathed in snow melt rivers and in the end, what I gained the most was a fresh appreciation for life. Family. My wife. My kids. As much as my soul requires to get away from every human being, including those you love, in search of a reset, it’s just as gratifying to return home to my family with a soul that’s on an even keel, soothed, relaxed, and tempered; but not content. Blood. Sweat. Reward.
LL#1: Set up your gun as if you know you’re going to be shooting BEFORE glassing.
LL#2: Personal preference, but I like to carry bow and rifle with me on shorter walks, if I had a bow I could have easily attempted a quiet stock to get closer.
Backcountry Precision
Blood. Sweat. Reward