Without a doubt, the grizzly bear is one of the marquis big-game species in the world. It is an animal of legend and history. Huge carnivores known for strength and ferocity, grizzlies conjure up visions of claws, fangs and terror, but to hunters, old griz is one of those mystical species that infiltrate our dreams.
I can remember the old Remington tin sign that depicted a turn-of-the-century hunter (20th century, that is) coming around a bend on a mountain trail and being face-to-face with a huge, snarling grizzly. As a child, I had an old, ragged book, The Sportsman's Guide to Game Animals by Rue, and the section on the great bears always drew the bulk of my attention. The photos of tracks as big as a man's boots, the stories of bear encounters gone bad and a beautiful blond grizzly rug that a friend of my father's had from his Alaska trip of a lifetime fueled my obsession with the pinnacle predator of North America from a very young age.
As time has slipped by, the burning desire to hunt grizzlies has never wavered, so when I was given the opportunity to pursue my dream species, I didn't hesitate to sign up and begin planning.
I was to hunt with Clint Mayuer and his outfit, Alaska Game Hunting, and though I also bought a moose tag, I told Clint that my undisputed priority was a bear.
One of the best things about Clint's outfit is that not only is he a Master Guide, he's also been flying Super Cubs for more than 30 years, so he can transport his hunters in and out, check on them every day or two and move camps if needed. It makes a hunt very flexible and increases the chance of success dramatically.
As Clint shuttled me and videographer Rob Snider into our tent camp, he explained that he had dropped our guide, Billy, off a couple of days earlier, and Billy had been seeing a few bears right from camp. This really got the blood pumping, and I just couldn't believe I was finally on a grizzly hunt after 30-plus years of dreaming.
Clint dropped us off less than 100 yards from our two tents, and within moments he was off again. The area was gorgeous, with mountains on three sides, vast tundra in front of camp and streams and small rivers crisscrossing the valley floor.
After stowing our gear, we took a short walk since we couldn't hunt for 24 hours after flying. We didn't see anything that first day, but spirits were high as Billy told us about the bears that he had seen prior to our arrival. I quizzed him a bit, and he informed me that the bears were feeding heavily on berries on the hillsides in preparation for the cold weather that was just around the corner. It was mid-September in Alaska, and snow and bitter temperatures could blow in at any time and not relent until spring.
We got up the next day, ate a freeze-dried breakfast and hiked about a mile up on the closest mountain to glass the surrounding area. The west side of the mountain overlooked a huge drainage that seemed promising, but the wind on that side was blowing 40mph and we just couldn't do much quality glassing.
We decided to sidehill to the opposite face to get out of the wind, and we settled in with binos and spotting scope for the morning. Again we had no sightings, so we began the trek back to camp for lunch and to regroup for the afternoon hunt.
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