Bear Hunting in the North Woods
Bill Cooper
“Bill, Bill, Bill,” Dian whispered excitedly. “There’s a bear.”
Dian sat on the left side of a two person stand. We were a mere 8 feet off of the ground. The stand stood 10 feet from a logging road, tucked into the dense brush. Visibility through the the thick vegetation ranged from five to 30 feet. A 20 foot wide shooting lane lay directly in front of us.
A sow and two yearling cubs had walked right in on us without our hearing them. The sow was no more than 15 yards away when Dian whispered. Just as she cleared the brush line along the small road, the bruin turned and looked straight up at us in the stand. Two hundred pounds of mama bear now stood less than 15 feet from us. I could feel Dian’s arm trembling. I did not want to shoot a sow with yearlings. Even though the yearlings could survive on their own, other bears would kill them if the opportunity presented itself. As a precautionary measure, I slipped the safety off on my 30-06. Bears can cover ground rapidly and I wasn’t taking any chances.
Hunting black bears in New Brunswick had been a life long dream. I read about bear hunting and brook trout fishing in the province in “Outdoor Life” magazine as a child. The opportunity to fulfill my dream presented itself when a bear hunt in New Brunswick, with Taxis River Outfitters, came up for bid at the Conservation Federation of Missouri annual conference last spring.
Planning began immediately. I first contacted the outfitter, Larry Davidson, to set a date and gather information about required license, equipment needs and hunting conditions. Davidson, with a life time of experience in the north woods, perked my excitement with his descriptions of what to expect. According to him, bears were plentiful and success rates were high. A former client of Davidson’s had already filled me in on the details. Their stories matched.
Dian, my wife, agreed to tag along as videographer. She expressed concerns about sitting in a tree stand while surrounded by 250,000 acres of Canadian wilderness full of bears. Leased from a timber company, Davidson’s hunting grounds are behind locked gates, offering clients the opportunity to hunt under natural conditions.
We flew into Portland, Maine, a beautiful town near the coast. We took two days to cover the 8 hour drive to Boiestown, New Brunswick, the location of bear camp. Gorgeous scenery became our guide as we drove through idyllic coastal towns. Freeport sported the original L.L. Bean Store. Other quaint locales inspired artists to paint their interpretations of rugged coastlines, ship yards and panoramic views.
By late afternoon, we arrived at the port town of Castine, Maine, one of the oldest towns in New England, predating the Plymouth Colony by almost a decade. Manor Inn Bed and Breakfast, a massive wooden lodge overlooking Penobscot Bay, provided the perfect setting for a moving Maine experience.
With lobster on our minds, we landed at the famous Dennett’s Wharf for a huge platter of steamed clams, lobster, corn on the cob, slaw and fries. Clam chowder, consumed with the sound of waves in the background, never tasted better.
Mile after mile of densely wooded hills and bogs lay before us as we headed up I-95 towards the border crossing at Holton. I dreaded the process of getting a rifle though customs, because of the numerous horror stories I had heard about the process. To my great surprise, however, customs personnel proved to be professional and friendly. The entire process of filing proper papers and paying the $25 registration fee for taking a firearm into Canada only took 15 minutes.
Two hours into New Brunswick, we arrived at Taxis River Outfitters just outside Boiestown on the banks of the beautiful Taxis River. The Davidsons greeted us at the lodge and quickly had us settled into our cabin for the week.
Lodge decorations set the mood for our week in camp. Abundant photos of hunters posing with their bears, mounts of giant moose and outsized Canada whitetails worked their magic on the hearts and minds of arriving hunters. I spent several sessions studying a mount of a splendidly colored, Brook Trout. It appeared just as I remembered from “Outdoor Life” magazine five decades ago.
Eight other hunters arrived from Maine, New York, Vermont, Massachusetts and North Carolina. A collection of experienced bear hunters soon began to educate Dian and me about the nuances of becoming successful bear hunters. Seventy-six-year-old Bob Amaral, of Massachusetts, had taken almost 40 bears in his lifetime. He entertained camp attendees with his decades of experience. Amaral hunted with a bow.
Dian chattered non stop on the way to our bear stand on the first day. I was a bit apprehensive myself, not knowing exactly what to expect. We settled into the stand the stand a little before 5 p.m. Shooting hours ended at 9:40 p.m., just as daylight began to fade. Firearms had to be unloaded and cased at that time. Davidson would not return to pick us up until 10:30 p.m., well after dark.
Our first bear encounter came with the sow and two cubs at 7:15 p.m. The sow stood 15 feet away staring intently at us. Dian trembled. My heart thumped heavily as I slid the safety off on my rifle. Fortunately, the sow heard the “click” of my safety and turned back up the road the way she had come, gathered her cubs and left.
Dian and I both took a few deep breaths to calm ourselves. Our first bear encounter had been up close and personal. We scanned the thick woods all the way around our stand, continuously. At 8:40 p.m. a big bear slowly lumbered from the dense brush 40 yards away and walked right to the bait sight. I eased my rifle into position. “Thats’s a big bear,” Dian whispered.
I trembled in anticipation of taking my first bear. The dark, sleek animal approached the far side of the bait barrel, blocking any possibility of a shot. Minutes seemed like hours as I waited for the bear to make its way to the other side of the barrel. Finally, it presented a broad side shot. I settled the scope’s crosshairs just behind the shoulder. The bear lunged forward and disappeared into the brush. Seconds later Dian and I heard the undeniable “death moan” of my first bear.
Guides Mannie Bedard and Dale Weldon skinned and butchered my bear. too, they prepared the hide for the taxidermist. Each of them patiently explained the whole process to me, an education from two very experienced North woods bear guides.
Excited by the turn of events, Dian decided to hunt as well. She spent the next four afternoons, two of which pounded us with heavy rains, to no avail. The rut had kicked in and boars were roaming to establish territories and run other bears off. An exceptionally big boar circled our stand for two evenings “woofing”, but never showed itself. “I wish I could have taken a bear, but the experience of being in the wilderness on a bear stand for 5 days is one I will never forget. I will get one next year.”
The Davidson’s, at Taxis River Outfitters, provided one of the most enjoyable camps Dian and I had ever experienced. And Bonnie is a superb cook. We have never eaten better in a camp situation.
As if bear camp wasn’t enough, the Taxis River runs right by camp. I spent my mornings catching brook tout on my fly rod. If you want to check them out yourself go to: www.taxisriveroutfitters.com.
Bear Hunting in the North Woods
Bill Cooper
“Bill, Bill, Bill,” Dian whispered excitedly. “There’s a bear.”
Dian sat on the left side of a two person stand. We were a mere 8 feet off of the ground. The stand stood 10 feet from a logging road, tucked into the dense brush. Visibility through the the thick vegetation ranged from five to 30 feet. A 20 foot wide shooting lane lay directly in front of us.
A sow and two yearling cubs had walked right in on us without our hearing them. The sow was no more than 15 yards away when Dian whispered. Just as she cleared the brush line along the small road, the bruin turned and looked straight up at us in the stand. Two hundred pounds of mama bear now stood less than 15 feet from us. I could feel Dian’s arm trembling. I did not want to shoot a sow with yearlings. Even though the yearlings could survive on their own, other bears would kill them if the opportunity presented itself. As a precautionary measure, I slipped the safety off on my 30-06. Bears can cover ground rapidly and I wasn’t taking any chances.
Hunting black bears in New Brunswick had been a life long dream. I read about bear hunting and brook trout fishing in the province in “Outdoor Life” magazine as a child. The opportunity to fulfill my dream presented itself when a bear hunt in New Brunswick, with Taxis River Outfitters, came up for bid at the Conservation Federation of Missouri annual conference last spring.
Planning began immediately. I first contacted the outfitter, Larry Davidson, to set a date and gather information about required license, equipment needs and hunting conditions. Davidson, with a life time of experience in the north woods, perked my excitement with his descriptions of what to expect. According to him, bears were plentiful and success rates were high. A former client of Davidson’s had already filled me in on the details. Their stories matched.
Dian, my wife, agreed to tag along as videographer. She expressed concerns about sitting in a tree stand while surrounded by 250,000 acres of Canadian wilderness full of bears. Leased from a timber company, Davidson’s hunting grounds are behind locked gates, offering clients the opportunity to hunt under natural conditions.
We flew into Portland, Maine, a beautiful town near the coast. We took two days to cover the 8 hour drive to Boiestown, New Brunswick, the location of bear camp. Gorgeous scenery became our guide as we drove through idyllic coastal towns. Freeport sported the original L.L. Bean Store. Other quaint locales inspired artists to paint their interpretations of rugged coastlines, ship yards and panoramic views.
By late afternoon, we arrived at the port town of Castine, Maine, one of the oldest towns in New England, predating the Plymouth Colony by almost a decade. Manor Inn Bed and Breakfast, a massive wooden lodge overlooking Penobscot Bay, provided the perfect setting for a moving Maine experience.
With lobster on our minds, we landed at the famous Dennett’s Wharf for a huge platter of steamed clams, lobster, corn on the cob, slaw and fries. Clam chowder, consumed with the sound of waves in the background, never tasted better.
Mile after mile of densely wooded hills and bogs lay before us as we headed up I-95 towards the border crossing at Holton. I dreaded the process of getting a rifle though customs, because of the numerous horror stories I had heard about the process. To my great surprise, however, customs personnel proved to be professional and friendly. The entire process of filing proper papers and paying the $25 registration fee for taking a firearm into Canada only took 15 minutes.
Two hours into New Brunswick, we arrived at Taxis River Outfitters just outside Boiestown on the banks of the beautiful Taxis River. The Davidsons greeted us at the lodge and quickly had us settled into our cabin for the week.
Lodge decorations set the mood for our week in camp. Abundant photos of hunters posing with their bears, mounts of giant moose and outsized Canada whitetails worked their magic on the hearts and minds of arriving hunters. I spent several sessions studying a mount of a splendidly colored, Brook Trout. It appeared just as I remembered from “Outdoor Life” magazine five decades ago.
Eight other hunters arrived from Maine, New York, Vermont, Massachusetts and North Carolina. A collection of experienced bear hunters soon began to educate Dian and me about the nuances of becoming successful bear hunters. Seventy-six-year-old Bob Amaral, of Massachusetts, had taken almost 40 bears in his lifetime. He entertained camp attendees with his decades of experience. Amaral hunted with a bow.
Dian chattered non stop on the way to our bear stand on the first day. I was a bit apprehensive myself, not knowing exactly what to expect. We settled into the stand the stand a little before 5 p.m. Shooting hours ended at 9:40 p.m., just as daylight began to fade. Firearms had to be unloaded and cased at that time. Davidson would not return to pick us up until 10:30 p.m., well after dark.
Our first bear encounter came with the sow and two cubs at 7:15 p.m. The sow stood 15 feet away staring intently at us. Dian trembled. My heart thumped heavily as I slid the safety off on my rifle. Fortunately, the sow heard the “click” of my safety and turned back up the road the way she had come, gathered her cubs and left.
Dian and I both took a few deep breaths to calm ourselves. Our first bear encounter had been up close and personal. We scanned the thick woods all the way around our stand, continuously. At 8:40 p.m. a big bear slowly lumbered from the dense brush 40 yards away and walked right to the bait sight. I eased my rifle into position. “Thats’s a big bear,” Dian whispered.
I trembled in anticipation of taking my first bear. The dark, sleek animal approached the far side of the bait barrel, blocking any possibility of a shot. Minutes seemed like hours as I waited for the bear to make its way to the other side of the barrel. Finally, it presented a broad side shot. I settled the scope’s crosshairs just behind the shoulder. The bear lunged forward and disappeared into the brush. Seconds later Dian and I heard the undeniable “death moan” of my first bear.
Guides Mannie Bedard and Dale Weldon skinned and butchered my bear. too, they prepared the hide for the taxidermist. Each of them patiently explained the whole process to me, an education from two very experienced North woods bear guides.
Excited by the turn of events, Dian decided to hunt as well. She spent the next four afternoons, two of which pounded us with heavy rains, to no avail. The rut had kicked in and boars were roaming to establish territories and run other bears off. An exceptionally big boar circled our stand for two evenings “woofing”, but never showed itself. “I wish I could have taken a bear, but the experience of being in the wilderness on a bear stand for 5 days is one I will never forget. I will get one next year.”
The Davidson’s, at Taxis River Outfitters, provided one of the most enjoyable camps Dian and I had ever experienced. And Bonnie is a superb cook. We have never eaten better in a camp situation.
As if bear camp wasn’t enough, the Taxis River runs right by camp. I spent my mornings catching brook tout on my fly rod. If you want to check them out yourself go to: www.taxisriveroutfitters.com.
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