Brown Bear Never Again

by Harry Hersey

October and brown go together in Alaska. This would be my fourth trip to Alaska after a "Big" Brown. I had been on three other unsuccessful trips, so maybe this would be the last. This trip had been booked with Larry for four years.

When I arrived at Sand Point, I knew I was in Brown Bear territory How did I know? It was freezing, raining and the wind was about 40 m.p.h. It always seems this way when I've gone for the big one. For those of you who have been there, I'm sure the memory is all too vivid. I have hunted with Larry from Siberia for Snow Sheep to the Arctic Circle for Moose and Caribou, and have never been disappointed. He is the best I know of in Alaska.

It took three camp moves to find the place we were looking for. I saw Brown Bear at every camp but not the one I wanted. Finally, on the ninth day of the hunt, I spotted the bear I wanted. My guide, George, and I took off from our hillside when we saw him fishing for salmon. Then, 100 yards from the river a sow and three cubs came up behind us. Even though the boar was our bear, we were caught between all of them and it was not the place to be. We had to retreat to keep our scent from the sow My Big Brown disappeared into the alders. Disappointed? You bet! I knew the boar was probably gone forever. The sow and three cubs spent the whole day fishing below us and I knew the boar wouldn't come back. It was four miles back to our camp and four miles the next morning. By midday I knew it was hopeless because the sow and cubs were back. Finally, at 4:00 p.m., they wandered off. Then, from the next valley a cow moose and calf came running over the hill and kept running for three miles. We knew something big was in the next valley-but too far for us to go. Then, at 5:00 p.m., over the hill he came. Moving like a Volkswagen bus, he headed for the stream below us. We made our way down to a cliff that overlooked the stream about 100 yards from where we thought he would come out. This was my last chance. We waited for what seemed like forever and then he jumped into the stream. I could have waited until he came closer but the wind was too unpredictable and I had been waiting too many years. Also, both of us knew that the sow and her cubs were close. I couldn't tell how big he was but George said he was a solid nine feet. After this many years, he looked plenty big enough for me. When I squeezed off the first shot (which I thought was perfect), he wheeled around and bit at the air. The stream was so loud he never heard the shot. He didn't go down so I fired again. He shook off that shot and casually walked out of the stream. When he cleared the alders, I fired again. I was finally through with Brown Bear hunting.

George said, "I bet he's over ten feet square," and I said, "I thought you said he was only nine feet." He said he didn't want me to think I was hunting a 10 foot bear because he felt I would be calmer and more accurate if I thought it was only a nine footer. Maybe he was right. It took us five hours to skin out what ended up being a solid 11+ Big Brown Bear and the hide alone weighed 285 pounds!

Now I could say, "Brown Bear.... Never Again!" But as I think back, away from the wind, snow rain and climbing, maybe just maybe-there is another 11 foot bear out there.... Nope, Never Again!

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