The hunter’s mind wandered back to his home in Minnesota as he thought about his wife and sons that waited for his return from Manitoba in just a few short days.  He had left them there a week ago and their absence from his life had him longing for their intimate fellowship.  The onset of the long journey home that would begin the following morning filled him with warm anticipation and good feelings.

   It had been a disappointing week of bear hunting, although the pristine beauty of the landscapes, the quiet relaxation and the warm camaraderie had been above par.  But now, it had come down to the last day and still he had not seen a single bear.  Weather was the culprit, but all seasoned hunters know that Mother Nature is always the wild card.  Sometimes it matches your hand and you win the pot and other times it just plain goes to pot.  The weather for the past week had sucked, big time!  The last few days had been full of rain, wind with a couple of inches of snow thrown in for good measure. 

Enough fish was caught the first day to feed the crew through the week.

   On the last day of the hunt however, the day had dawned warm, bright and beautiful, which bolstered the spirits as well as the prospects for the last night of sentry duty over the bait barrel.  As the hunter thought about home, he was startled by a loud crashing sound that might have been made by a big man falling flat on his drunken face in the bush. 

   His head snapped in the direction of the disturbance in a startled response just in time to see a respectable black bear emerging from the thick brush ambling toward the bait barrel like a huge furry cockroach.  It was not the monster bruin that had been the main subject of his bear-hunting daydreaming for the past five days, but it was down to the last couple hours of the hunter’s spring season and this particular bear beat the stuffing out of going home with an unused tag.

   The clueless animal moved into the open arena as the hunter slowly raised the crossbow to his shoulder.  He centered the bear in the scope, placing the crosshairs just behind the shoulder.  The hunter was not going to give the bruin an opportunity to pull a disappearing act, which this particular species of North American big game is so famous for doing. 

   Slowly the hunter squeezed the trigger  - and nothing happened!  You have to flick the safety off, he realized.  Cautiously he gripped the safety between his index finger and thumb and slowly moved it to the fire position.  The click it made in the stillness of the calm Canadian evening sounded like the snapping of a large dried branch to the hunter, but the bear never lifted its head from the bait barrel.

Pine Grouse in the snow.

   Again the man slowly squeezed the trigger.  The crossbow’s blatant report shattered the serenity of the placid wilderness and the arrow disappeared into the thick black fur of the bear’s rib cage.  It spun on its hind legs and began its death run, which lasted only thirty yards.  The hunter, Russ Kalk, had filled his 2006 Canadian black bear license with a couple of hours of his season to spare.

   Russ was just one of five American Crossbow Federation hunters that had shared the past week at Wolverine Lodge in Lynn Lake, Manitoba under the capable guidance of Russ Bettschen and his team of pathfinders.   Kalk had been joined on the expedition by Jackie Seale, her husband Gordon and Claude Davenport, all from the fine state of Alabama.  Chuck Anderson, a dentist from Pierre, SD hooked up with the rest of the caravan in Grand Forks, ND.  Yours truly, of course, had come along as the token hunt mascot and event historian.

Russ Kalk with his last minute Bruin.

   Russ’ last minute bruin was the second bear that had been taken during the week of inclement hunting.  Upon arrival at Wolverine lodge, the weather had been as beautiful as it was on the last day of the hunt.  Fishing had been grand, the skies were a sunny deep blue and the bears were on the move.  Claude Davenport, on his first Manitoba bear hunt, had waited until the woods began to turn dark, then hiked out to the road with his gear and found a comfortable perch to wait for the guide to pick him up. 

   Once out of the thick bush, he discovered that it was considerably lighter in the open.  As he waited for his ride, a chocolate-colored bear emerged from the thick jack pines on the other side of the road, thirty yards down the line.  It just stood there, staring at the amazed hunter as if trying to determine if Claude were man, beast or vegetable. 

Claude Davenport and his Cinnamin Bear

   Claude thought that sure was a pretty bear.  Not the biggest one in Canada, but that Chocolate fur was thick, rub-free and the color in the light of the late evening was absolutely gorgeous!  No doubt about it, it sure would make a handsome full-body mount and that was exactly what the Alabama man was after.

   He raised his rifle, centered the animal in his crosshairs and put a slug right through the surprised critter’s heart.  I would like to add that Claude hunts with the ACF crew on a regular basis and is one of the luckiest hunters I have ever met when it comes to seeing game.  And when Claude sees the creature he wants for his personal den, he doesn’t miss the shot.

   Those two bruins that found their way to the Wolverine Lodge meat pole were the only ones that were seen the entire week.  As happens so often, Mother Nature had driven the animals under the cover of the dense jack pine bush by turning on the wind, rain and snow.  Baits were being hit under the cover of darkness, but that did the hunters little good in filling their tags during their long posts in the daylight.

   The weather adversely affected the fishing as well, but that first day, the crew caught enough fresh fish to feed us like Royalty during the entire week we were at the lodge.  The stories shared about the action and the number of large fish that were thrown back were entertaining as well as incredible.  Although not everyone went back to the states with bears or coolers full of fish, the photographs, the shared stories and the memories of the week spent in the pristine beauty of Manitoba’s north country will be with us all for a very long time. 

L to R: Chuck Anderson, Gordon Seale, DJH, Jackie Seals, Russ Kalk and Claude Davenport.

   Thanks go out to each of those that joined us for the hunt this spring and especially to Russ Bettschen and his capable crew for the fine job they did.  Russ and his men bent over backwards to cater to our needs, but on this hunt as with all hunts, the natural elements are always the unknown factor when scheduling an outdoor adventure. 

   Sometimes Mother Nature is a quiet and beautiful partner filled with sweet surprises and intimate moments of delight and discovery.  Other times she is a temperamental, furious partner that can sabotage your day, blacken your mood and ruin your attitude.  I would theorize that dealing with Mother Nature is very much like being married.