Brown Bear Hunting Articles
Do You Know Your Tracks?
Every game animal leaves its mark; imprints in soft soil, sand or snow. These calling cards reveal a historical presence. New or old, they can be read like a book. Learn to recognize them and you can glean a great deal about the game you're hunting. With practice we cannot only learn to identify the type, size, and sometimes sex of the animal, but also their direction of travel and how old the track is.
Grizzly in Camp!
I was having a wonderful dream about a big bull moose feeding in the willows along a gravelly lake shore. It was warm there and I could hear the sound of the moose's hooves in the gravel as he walked around. Suddenly my mind said 'Gravel?' There is no gravel here! It woke me, and as I lay in my warm goose-down bedroll I realized that the sound I was listening to was definitely not hooves on gravel - it was the sound of long claws clicking together as they came straight for our tent.
Judging Distance
Accurately judging distance is the first step toward proper shot placement. Instinctive or calculated, bowhunters rely on it for close range shooting. Gun hunters count on their ability to estimate longer distances. Over time we all learn our own tricks for calculating distance but with the advent of laser rangefinders many of us won't leave home without them. Regardless of how you go about it, determining yardage can make or break your hunt.
To Hunt the Grizzled Bear
Working my way along a fast-flowing river, I glimpsed a patch of brown through the trees. Digging at something along the river's edge, there was my grizzly. As a resident hunter, I'd waited eight years before finally drawing a coveted tag in Alberta. It was early May and there were still patches of snow in low-lying shady areas. As quickly as possible I extended the legs on my bipod, lay out in a prone position and centered the crosshairs of my Leupold on his chest. At this time of year it's especially important to ensure that the bear is alone.
Handgun Hunting the Alaskan Brown Bear
The stakes become high when the hunter becomes the hunted. Becoming the ultimate jackpot isn’t why you are there. In this game of bullet against claws, teeth and immeasurable strength, the victor becomes the king of the Alaskan tundra. There are no places to hide; there are no trees to climb out of harms way. It becomes a chance hand of how the cards are dealt. You pray they fall in your direction.
Death Knocks Twice
The Caribou Hills region of the Kenai Peninsula in Alaska can be a forbidding place to hunt. The mountains are windswept, treeless and extremely cold, an area only fit for Dall Sheep, while the lower elevations enjoy thick Amazon-style brush which makes excellent moose habitat. Hunters from around the world come to hunt the great bulls that seem to blend with their surroundings as if they were wearing the very best camo attire in the woods.
Bear Attack
There can be no death any more horrifying than one of a bear attack. Even the mere thought of a bear mauling a person sends shivers to the most seasoned and experienced outdoorsman. It addresses a pronounced deep and primal fear within all humans, the fear of being killed by a wild animal. Yet as terrifying as that thought is, that is exactly what happened to Ken Cates in Soldotna, Alaska on a seemingly innocent spring afternoon on Tuesday, May 25th, 1999. At exactly 12:00 noon he told his wife of 35 years that he was going to go for a hike and would be back around four o'clock. He would never return.