Post by moose on Jul 31, 2009 22:51:08 GMT -5
My friend Clay is a Jack-pine savage and i see him once every 3 or 4 years. He works as a hunting guide at a very expensive hunting camp that runs out of Fort Simpson in the Nwt. They have the rights to several 100,000 acres of good hunting land in some of the sorest country in Canada.
The last time i saw Clay we got into a fight over money and the fact that he had lost 1/4 of his right index finger while on a job with me. I'm not afraid of many things but Clay is one of the strongest and potentially meanest bastards I've ever known. I am far too stubborn to back down and frankly I've always wondered if I could take him.
I can't. He was choking me out against a table saw when I started laughing at him. At first this just made him madder. Then he started laughing too. I kneed him the balls and he laughed harder and we both just broke up. We drank some more and got really drunk and both of us cried and then he went back up north.
He had many open slots this summer, the economy was killing the US business and wanted to know if I wanted a really cheap sheep hunt. I jumped.
A Sheep hunt goes for about 10 thousand dollars and good cape and horn can go for much more on the open market. Of course I have a garage full of sheep horn and Clay knows this. If you have dogs and you live in the Rockies you have kill carcass. I wasn't going for sheep...and he wasn't inviting me for it.
Everyone wants to kill bear. Bear are wiley and mean. They can be shot by the dozen at the local garbage dump by anyone with a 30-06 and a can of beer. But a Nahanni grizz in full stalk is a great Bow hunters prize. And that was what we wanted to bag.
I had to beg borrow and steal the time off. I had to work 87 hours strait to sit the holiday time just right. worth it...But fuck i'm still tired.
The camp he works at is a luxury hunting camp. It is geared towards Americans and Europeans with bread who want to be handed a good shot and have their cape and trophy carried out for them. I spent two days there in the hot tub drinking well and eating well and pretending to like jackasses when Clay gave me the nod. Tomorrow he was moving into a valley with a client for a sheep and he knew we would probably see bear.
We lugged the clients gear in at 6 the next morning and set up a base camp. The client arrived about 11 winded and tired and we made lunch and started off looking for a good sheep.
We saw lots but no real trophy sheep on the first day and headed back early. After camp was cooking and the client was drinking well Clay and I went out and stalked a little. We found nothing but got pretty drunk and slept in the next morning.
The Client woke up hopping. We grudged out a breakfast and started up again. About an hour in Clay called me to a ridge along the line we were hunting and pointed down. A huge bear track is unmistakable in that country and this was plain as day. And this was a beauty.
Clay went back to his client then and I did circles for the bear.
About a mile down they found a beauty. Our worst nightmare. A huge well round monster sheep. Placid and beautiful, the German shot him and Clay cleaned it while I cooked some eggs and bacon for the night.
The light goes this time of year fades around 1 or 2 so its hard to fall asleep. Clay and I and the German passed a bottle and shot the shit until 2 or 3 and sacked out.
We woke about 8 and packed up. We hiked about 30 metres when clay stopped us and drew me foward with a hand gesture. the ground was littered with bear sign. We had been circled all night.
A bear like that doesn't give up. We built a fire and left our gear with the client. Clay had him convinced that the bear wanted the sheep and a fire would draw him in. The guy looked like he was holding the beach at normandy. Hehe Dumb fuck.
Clay and I went looking for the bear. We posted along a scrub hill and moved along in two's trying to scribe a 360 around our site.
Then I thought I found him.
I was moving along the side of a bluff when I heard him. That huffing and scraping. That fucked up musky smell.
I stilled and whispered into my walkie takie. "Got him. He's on the bluff above me."
"Roger"
I Stayed still and revolved. A brush above me moved and I heard that sound again. The huffing and scrounging only a bear makes...
I pointed my rifle straight at the area and saw Clay come in from my East to flank the beast...
Then the beast emerged. It had clealy heard me.
A 75 pd wolverine bounced out of the bush snarling and hissing and i nearly shit my pants.. It hit the ground running and disappeared faster than it had appeared. If I had shot. I would have killed a cloud. And nothing more.
Clay and I laughed went to camp and hiked back to base camp.
That night the chef got woken up and shot a grizzly. Clay says the size of the tracks looked right...bastard followed us home.
Many times in that huge place I thought of my first literary love "The Lord of the Rings" and thought of Frodo and the march towards Moria.
And often I thought of my friends in Middle Earth.
And I smiled at the Midnight sun.
Sometimes the Bear eats you.
selah.
g.
The last time i saw Clay we got into a fight over money and the fact that he had lost 1/4 of his right index finger while on a job with me. I'm not afraid of many things but Clay is one of the strongest and potentially meanest bastards I've ever known. I am far too stubborn to back down and frankly I've always wondered if I could take him.
I can't. He was choking me out against a table saw when I started laughing at him. At first this just made him madder. Then he started laughing too. I kneed him the balls and he laughed harder and we both just broke up. We drank some more and got really drunk and both of us cried and then he went back up north.
He had many open slots this summer, the economy was killing the US business and wanted to know if I wanted a really cheap sheep hunt. I jumped.
A Sheep hunt goes for about 10 thousand dollars and good cape and horn can go for much more on the open market. Of course I have a garage full of sheep horn and Clay knows this. If you have dogs and you live in the Rockies you have kill carcass. I wasn't going for sheep...and he wasn't inviting me for it.
Everyone wants to kill bear. Bear are wiley and mean. They can be shot by the dozen at the local garbage dump by anyone with a 30-06 and a can of beer. But a Nahanni grizz in full stalk is a great Bow hunters prize. And that was what we wanted to bag.
I had to beg borrow and steal the time off. I had to work 87 hours strait to sit the holiday time just right. worth it...But fuck i'm still tired.
The camp he works at is a luxury hunting camp. It is geared towards Americans and Europeans with bread who want to be handed a good shot and have their cape and trophy carried out for them. I spent two days there in the hot tub drinking well and eating well and pretending to like jackasses when Clay gave me the nod. Tomorrow he was moving into a valley with a client for a sheep and he knew we would probably see bear.
We lugged the clients gear in at 6 the next morning and set up a base camp. The client arrived about 11 winded and tired and we made lunch and started off looking for a good sheep.
We saw lots but no real trophy sheep on the first day and headed back early. After camp was cooking and the client was drinking well Clay and I went out and stalked a little. We found nothing but got pretty drunk and slept in the next morning.
The Client woke up hopping. We grudged out a breakfast and started up again. About an hour in Clay called me to a ridge along the line we were hunting and pointed down. A huge bear track is unmistakable in that country and this was plain as day. And this was a beauty.
Clay went back to his client then and I did circles for the bear.
About a mile down they found a beauty. Our worst nightmare. A huge well round monster sheep. Placid and beautiful, the German shot him and Clay cleaned it while I cooked some eggs and bacon for the night.
The light goes this time of year fades around 1 or 2 so its hard to fall asleep. Clay and I and the German passed a bottle and shot the shit until 2 or 3 and sacked out.
We woke about 8 and packed up. We hiked about 30 metres when clay stopped us and drew me foward with a hand gesture. the ground was littered with bear sign. We had been circled all night.
A bear like that doesn't give up. We built a fire and left our gear with the client. Clay had him convinced that the bear wanted the sheep and a fire would draw him in. The guy looked like he was holding the beach at normandy. Hehe Dumb fuck.
Clay and I went looking for the bear. We posted along a scrub hill and moved along in two's trying to scribe a 360 around our site.
Then I thought I found him.
I was moving along the side of a bluff when I heard him. That huffing and scraping. That fucked up musky smell.
I stilled and whispered into my walkie takie. "Got him. He's on the bluff above me."
"Roger"
I Stayed still and revolved. A brush above me moved and I heard that sound again. The huffing and scrounging only a bear makes...
I pointed my rifle straight at the area and saw Clay come in from my East to flank the beast...
Then the beast emerged. It had clealy heard me.
A 75 pd wolverine bounced out of the bush snarling and hissing and i nearly shit my pants.. It hit the ground running and disappeared faster than it had appeared. If I had shot. I would have killed a cloud. And nothing more.
Clay and I laughed went to camp and hiked back to base camp.
That night the chef got woken up and shot a grizzly. Clay says the size of the tracks looked right...bastard followed us home.
Many times in that huge place I thought of my first literary love "The Lord of the Rings" and thought of Frodo and the march towards Moria.
And often I thought of my friends in Middle Earth.
And I smiled at the Midnight sun.
Sometimes the Bear eats you.
selah.
g.
