Four and a half years passed and finally I was eligible for a nonresident brown bear tag on the Alaska Peninsula. The last bear I took here–my first coastal brown bear–was with registered guide, Bruce Hallingstad, of Becharof Lodge (www.becharoflodge.net), and I couldn’t wait to get back with him on another hunt.
Nonresidents are required to hire a guide when hunting brown bear in Alaska, something that’s a bit different from the years I spent living and hunting throughout the state in the ‘90s, on my own. Bruce specializes in big brown bears, and when I took a bear just under 9’ on our last hunt, he immediately made a spot for me to come back on a spring hunt. Bruce’s goal was to try and get me a bear over the coveted 10’ mark, something I knew was possible, but deep-down, highly unlikely. I know of many accomplished Alaskan hunters who’ve worked a lifetime chasing a 10’ bear, and never hit the mark, that’s how hard they are to find.
Upon my arrival in Egegik, Alaska, we prepared gear, walked through the village observing bear-damaged homes, and watched locals subsistence fish for early-arriving red salmon. With only a few hours of darkness this time of year, there’s a lot to do.
High tide was early the next morning, so we loaded the boat and headed across Egegik Bay, a body of water that, in a couple weeks, would be crammed with over 15,000 commercial salmon fishermen. On this morning, we were the only boat on the water.
The ride across the bay was smooth, and we were met on the other side by one of Bruce’s assistant guides, George Joy. Soon our gear was loaded into a cabin and getting organized.
I was excited about this hunt, but mind you, I wasn’t as optimistic as I probably should have been. Prior to my arrival, Bruce had hunters in this same camp, and they didn’t see a single bear in 10 days. Temperatures were hot, into the 80s, and the area had gone over a month without rain. Bears should have been moving, but weren’t…not yet.
As with most spring bear hunting, time is best utilized by glassing, covering ground with your eyes, not your feet. That’s exactly what we did, and it worked. It didn’t take long until Bruce, George and I were watching a bear slowly stride across the grassy flats in front of us, some 75 miles west of the Alaska Range, where the bear likely denned for the winter.
Before we moved, Bruce wanted to watch where the bear went. The bear was still over a mile-and-a-half away, and the heat waves flowing across the tundra were intense. We knew it was a big bear, but couldn’t tell for sure, just how big. An hour later, the bear moved behind some willows and bedded down. Bruce and I tried a stalk, but half-way to the bear, the wind changed. We backed out.
We returned to camp and resumed glassing. Eight hours later, our bear emerged. Again Bruce and I went made a stalk.
Walking, running and rafting across a small river, we tried to cover ground, but it wasn’t easy. The first time I ranged the bear, he was just over 900 yards away. Closing the gap was tough. An hour later we were 550 yards out; I wanted to be 300 yards for a shot.
The bear kept feeding into the wind, and we followed. Two miles and two hours later, the bear finally paused long enough to allow us to get closer. This time the bear was 305 yards out, and though I was solid in the shooting sticks, there was too much tall grass between the bear and I, too much to chance a shot through.
As the bear got up and started walking away, the shot angle was poor. Water in front of us kept me from getting closer, and all I could do was pray the bear would turn broadside. Twenty-yards farther the bear paused, then sat down on his hind end. Bingo, the perfect shot angle.
Putting the green, glowing dot of the Trijicon AccuPoint on the bear’s shoulders, I touched it off. The .338-378 Weatherby Magnum roared, and the bear fell over. An insurance shot followed and the thud of the 225 grain Barns bullet hit the mark. Our bear was down for good.
Walking up on that bear was one of the most memorable moments of my life, for I knew he was a true bear of a lifetime. The bear’s withered body, worn teeth and claws told the story of a long life. Bruce had been watching this bear for at least five years, and while he had two hunters close to it, two different years, they never fired a shot. This time, the outcome was different.
The hide squared an astounding 10’9”, and his skull green scored a whopping 29 4/16”. No doubt the skull will shrink, but still, he’ll be a record book qualifier, a true bear you could spend a lifetime pursuing, but never find. I’m interested to learn of the bear’s age, for by the looks of his lean frame and tattered teeth, Bruce and I guessed him over 20. Never have I seen teeth so worn to the gums, canines broken and molars split in half all the way to the root. Many teeth were worn to the nerves.
I’ve been blessed to experience many great hunts in my life, but this goes down as one of the best, if not the best, ever. Perhaps it’s my passion of pursuing bears; maybe it’s because I know how truly rare, and special it is to secure a bear of this stature.
Both the bear and the wonderful hunt I had with Bruce and George, made this hunt extra special. They are great men, great hunters, and now, good friends, and to me, that means as much as filling a tag.
When I get this bear back from Bruce Hallingstad–who is also an accomplished taxidermist–I’ll relive this special hunt every time I look at him, and to me, that’s one of the greatest rewards of hunting–reliving memories that wouldn’t exist were it not for hunting to take us to such special places.
Camera man, Ty Cary, captured some epic shots of the entire stalk, and the hunt is slated to air on Trijicon’s The Hunt, on the Sportsman Channel, in the fall of 2015. Until then, good hunting!
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