Pennsylvania Game News - November 2021 - 8

me. The feed was there, with white oaks
producing abundant acorns, and bear sign
was evident. The weather was good with
temperatures in the 40s.
I needed a spot with a rest for my rifle,
and the logged-over area provided lots of
options.
Once settled in behind an uprooted
stump, I began to refamiliarize myself
with my surroundings. So much had
changed since I last was here. Trees previously
used for landmarks were gone, and
logging trails crisscrossed in front of me.
Treetops were everywhere. I looked for
shooting lanes.
The sight of pileated woodpeckers,
songbirds, gray squirrels and deer made
me feel comfortable hunting again. A lot
had changed with the landscape, but in
many respects, it was still the same.
Late in the afternoon, I spotted something
black 150 yards away. I made out
bits and pieces of a bear, a big bear!
Its belly was almost dragging on the
ground. I didn't have a clear shot, though,
as it picked its way through the brush.
I watched it disappear across a laurelchoked,
rocky hillside.
Later, though, I spotted another bear.
Following the same trail the first bear
used, this bruin angled to my left. I looked
ahead for an opening on its path, found
one and, when the bear stepped into the
clear, I squeezed the trigger on my .300
Short Mag.
Showing no sign it was hit, the bear
disappeared into the laurel.
I hobbled to the spot, finding a shattered
branch on a small maple in front of
where the bear had been standing. That
said it all. My bullet had hit the branch
and missed the bear completely.
Still, the fact I'd seen two bears gave
me all the motivation I needed to return
in the regular bear season.
I arrived at camp with my daughter
8
and son, and a few of his friends, the night
before the opener. My son and husband
both got bears earlier in the year, so I
hoped my daughter would get a chance
to harvest one. Her busy life working as a
law-enforcement officer while raising two
children leaves little time to hunt.
She also was five months pregnant.
I chuckled, thinking we were a motleylooking
crew.
My daughter made the 2½-mile hike in
the dark to her favorite spot. My son and
his friends scattered across the mountain.
Sitting where I missed the bear a month
earlier, waiting for dawn, I listened to
coyotes howling from two directions.
About 10:30, I was thinking a snack
might be good when I spotted black. It
was a bear coming from the same direction
and using the trail as the bear I'd
missed before.
With its nose in the air, it picked up the
scent of something it didn't like. It seemed
ready to bolt, but paused. When it did, I
found its shoulder in the scope and fired.
The bear lunged forward.
I knew I'd hit it, but lost sight of it. After
reaching the spot where the bear had been
standing, I heard one of my son's friends
behind me. He heard the shot and headed
my way. We cautiously, but confidently,
walked into the laurel.
The bear hadn't gone far and we soon
found it. I got on my walkie-talkie and
called my son to tell him I had a bear
down. My daughter heard the transmission
and headed my way, as well. My son
and his other friends arrived.
Everyone was excited and giving me
congratulations. I let out a boisterous
whoo-hoo that I'm sure everyone in a
5-mile radius heard.
After tagging and field-dressing the
bear, we started the drag back to camp.
On the way, it sank in how much I had
achieved. I had overcome!
Pennsylvania Game News - November 2021

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