An adventurous hunt for Saskatchewan Black Bears

Growing up in central Georgia, most of my big game hunting had consisted of deer, and turkey, which made my first archery black bear hunt, a few years back in the brush country of Saskatchewan an overwhelming adventure.

The habitat that these beastly bruins live in there in the North Country is un-spoiled by the buzzing of planes, and the hum of traffic. Only few households can be heard in the distance disturbing the serenity that only Mother Nature can provide. Soft gentle breezes carry the pungent but yet sweet aroma of swamp ground and evergreen trees. These scents constantly tickle your nostrils almost creating a cure for the strains that everyday life can bring upon you. This environment as you can imagine is the utmost in relaxation for the mind and spirit of an outdoorsman. But be aware, and always expecting the transition from calm and collective, to heart-throbbing and nerve racking when the sight of a dark shadow emerges in the thick brush within sight of your blind, as it cautiously makes its way closer and closer through the maze of almost impenetrable thick green vegetation.

I having experienced this whirlwind change of emotion, and felt the thrill of success after taking my first P&Y bruin have now become addicted to hunting bear. And when the chance came available once again to return to the Canadian forest during the 1999 spring bear season, I did not hesitate to commit myself to yet another highly anticipated journey.

THE CREW
You know its been said that the success of a hunt is not to be judged by what the harvest is, but more so rated on the experiences and comroderey shared in camp, and that the taking of a trophy animal is a bonus. If this was to be the case, I knew that I was in for a hunt of a lifetime. Joining me on the trip was David Blanton, who not only heads up the television and video department at Realtree, but is also one of my dearest friends. Along with him were his two boys Harmon(9), and Alex(7) as well as David’s father Don Blanton. Rick Belcher a long time friend of Don and David was also present and accompanied by his son Austin(8). Realtree’s foremost consultant to Monster Bucks in Texas, Mr. Bill Whitefield was also there making his first ever quest for a black bear with a bow and arrow.

Brian and Sylvia Hoffart of Green Lake Saskatchewan were to be our host. Brian and Sylvia were no strangers to us at Realtree; we had always depended on them to provide incredible hunts for our cameras. Through the years they have not only built a solid reputation of treating their clients to hunts of a lifetime, but they have also become like family to the Realtree crew.

David and I had plans of videoing each other, both taking turns with the camera until the two of us filled our tags. Don, Bill and Rick were all in camp with one goal in mind, to slam a big black bear whether it be caught on tape are not. The three boys’ were all on there first hunting trip. Just the simple fact that they could stay up as late as they wanted was enough to excite them, but with an abundant supply of fishing gear brought along, they certainly would have the opportunity to get in on some of the best walleye and northern pike fishing around. Our lodge was on the bank of Green Lake.

The first night we arrived, Mrs. Sylvia made sure we were all fed well by preparing a scrumptious meal in which we all ate well over the normal amount that any sane person would dare to take in at one setting. After we all got settled in our rooms and comfortably lay in our beds, we all found it hard to sleep because anticipation of what was to come had grabbed hold of our thoughts. Our eagerness to see bear was equal to a kid getting ready to go in a candy store with a twenty-dollar bill.

Let the Bear hunting begin
Due to the long days and normally poor movement of bear during morning hours, Brian suggested that we start by just hunting the afternoons. This was fine by everyone and guaranteed two things, plenty of sleep, and ample time to set the hook on some hungry walleye and northern pike.

So, sleep and fish we did on the first morning being very productive at both a might add. The walleye were hitting and Brain guided us to one his favorite holes, and within no time we had limited out on the species. Bill Whitfield, (who by now had no choice but to go by the name of Mr. Whitetail which was given to him by David’s younger son Alex for the simply reason that it was easier for him to pronounce) had showed us all up by catching not only the most fish but also the biggest. It is easy to imagine how quickly bragging rights, and bets were established and we were only in our first day of the trip.

Back at camp we all pitched in and cleaned our healthy stringer of fish. Mrs. Sylvia cooked them up for lunch along with some other great side dishes. After the meal we spent the next couple of hours shooting our bows and preparing our gear for the first after noon hunt.

David and I flipped a coin to see who would be hunting or running the camera. David called the toss right and won the decision to hunt first.

Brian took us to an area where earlier in the year one of his hunters had seen a whopper of a boar that he figured would push the four hundred-pound mark. The stand location was several miles back in the dark timber which was thick with dense cover, but yet offered enough openness for our camera to have a fair view of approaching bear. Brian informed us that the breeding season was in full swing and to keep our eyes and ears open for boars on the prowl looking for a girlfriend.

After absorbing all the advice we could from Brian on the rut and judging trophy bruins we quietly got all the video equipment secured in the tree and ourselves settled in our climax loc-on stands.

Before we could hardly even get still, David informed me of a black blotch he had spotted moving through the forest. Sure enough as our eyes focused on the object it quickly took full form of a medium sized boar heading directly toward us. The bear gently, cautiously strolled toward the bait that Brian just previously had freshened up. Right before he got to his destination, I heard a small stick break behind us. I turned my head only to find another bear coming in. Unbelievably, in no time there were three bear within shooting range. The evening’s action stayed non-stop for four hours straight with a total of eight different bear making appearances, and even though some of bear that had come within range were respectable, we decided to hold off on taking a shot; however, this was not the climax of the evening.

Just after we lost video light we slowly started letting our gear down, making sure we kept the undisturbed woods as peaceful as possible. My camera had just been lowered to the turf when we heard guttural clunking sounds, (almost like that of a bull elk when he gathers his heard), out in the thick brush behind us. Soon we could hear the sound and commotion of bear running through the woods. It seemed apparent that it was two different bear making no attempt to be silent in their behavior. Our eyes strained to focus in the almost pitch black forest. They were on top of us before we could even make them out, but we soon noticed the forms of two objects both blacker than night itself within twenty yards of our stand. The first bear was large, but it appeared to be a female. Our heart and nerves were put to the test as we tried to make out the second bear still in the thicket. And then without hesitation it stepped out into the clearing. The feeling that overcame us was different than anything we had ever experienced. We were face to face with a monstrous bruin, who was obviously totally committed to getting a date with the sow. It had to be the boar Brian had told us about, but we were simply out of daylight and all we could do was watch the overwhelming creature taut us. My emotions were the same as when a big whitetail buck is within range only different in the sense that fear was present. Maybe it was because of my being a rookie to bear hunting, but I knew that the creature that was now almost directed under our stand was king of the Canadian forest and with one blow from his powerful paw could send full sized whitetail deer to his death.

As quickly as he had appeared he soon vanished into the silent, dark Saskatchewan wilderness. Even though we had not bagged a bear, our first evening was a success.

David gets his chance
The next evening without hesitation we decided to return to the same location to try and get a crack at the huge boar. We knew even though he had proved to be still using the area, that there was no guarantee that he would come running in again, especially with the knowledge that sows in heat could cause him to be anywhere.

Sitting in our stands David and I enjoyed soaking in the peacefulness of the Canadian forest. It was nice to get a chance to unwind, but before we could get to relaxed David caught movement to our right. It was a bear all right, but not black in color. Quickly, but quietly as possible I powered up the Realtree camera and started rolling tape on what appeared to be a big cinnamon bear. Carefully and steadily the big colored bear moved toward shooting range being recorded on tape the whole time. The cinnamon was not as big as the black bear we had encountered the evening before, but he was for sure in the two hundred and fifty-pound range and his coat was absolutely gorgeous. David made the decision to take the bear if a shot was presented which looked very good at this point. Adrenaline was flowing through our veins. It was game time. I concentrated on keeping the camera steady and David started to put pressure on his bow string as he waited on his chance to draw, the bear was now twenty-five yards and closing. The bruin seemed to go in slow motion as he worked his way closer eroding away five more yards. At twenty yards the cinnamon turned broadside in a clearing and looked away. David brought his bow to full draw, settled his top pin on the bears vitals and squeezed off a perfect shot. Through the lens I had captured it all. Soon after the bear had gone out of sight we heard him crash and the Canadian wilderness once again resumed to its normal silence. There was no doubt, David’s shot had done its job.

Forty five minutes later we started tracking the bear only to find that he had went around 50 yards before piling up. David’s traditional and enthusiastic “alright, that is awesome” could have been heard back in Georgia. All grins behind the camera as David recovered his huge cinnamon bruin, I knew that the hunt had just begun. It was now my turn to pick up the bow and arrow, and to make things even better, all the pressure was off—-we had a successful hunt on tape.

The pressure is off (Michael’s turn)
There is nothing like the feeling of having no worries, pressure, or stress, and that is exactly what David and I had as we started the third day of our hunt with Brian and Sylvia Hoffart. (the only remote worry we had was the increasing weight gain we were experiencing after eating all of Sylvia’s fine cooking)

The spirit around camp was festive and the three boys had even went as far as to decorate the trees along the lakes edge with spinnerbaits and jigs using the closest tackle box to supply their needs. (Obviously this decorating was not done on purpose)

Everyone was seeing plenty of bear and the fish continued to bite.

Brian thought long and hard as David and I loaded up in his pick up truck. Then he turned to me in a confident grin, and asked “how would you guys like to try for another colored bear”? “Man yeah!”, I blurted out so quickly and immaturely that I almost felt stupid. Brain went on to tell us about a big blond bear that was using an area North of the lodge that he thought we might be able to catch on video. He explained the area that the bear was using to be fairly open, which would make for some good footage if he showed up. Discussing the evening to come as we traveled to the remote location had caused me to almost hyperventilate with anticipation, and by the time we got settled in our stands, I had to take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

My eyes searched far and near trying to pick up any movement of a potential bear. Then finally after sitting in our blinds for around two and a half hours, David and I both caught movement at the same time to our left about a hundred yards up a grown up road. We could not believe it, the bear that worked his way closer to our position was almost white in color with the exception of chocolate brown legs and feet. Brian once again had proved to be precise with his scouting. My heart was beating like a base drum in a rock & roll band as the blond bear cut the distance if half. David informed me that he was rolling tape and I hooked my release on the string of my Jennings bow readying myself for a shot. Just out of range the bruin held up and became very cautious, like he knew something wasn’t right, but then he began to move our way once more. He was coming out into a clearing at a distance of fifteen yards when he eyes started climbing our tree. Tilting his head almost straight up, he had us pegged. We felt like amateur poker players bluffing with a busted hand. Deliberately, slowly the monster shifted his weight from his front to his back turning around and like a shot from a gun he exploded back down the road into the thick brush. Our emotions we floored and we were in disbelief. We sat the rest of the evening without seeing another bear with “What ifs?” constantly going through our heads. As dark settled on the forest and the shadows grew dimmer, we prepared ourselves for the next day’s hunt.

Last Chance
The next evening we had high hopes. The wind was in our favor to hunt the same location, attempting once again to go two for two on colored bears.

Just like the afternoon before, the first couple of hours on the stand were fairly dead other than the occasional squirrel running up an evergreen tree.

As the time passed, our minds drifted to individual thoughts, but soon our focus was brought back to the task at hand when the familiar sight of a blond bear coming down the same logging road caught our attention. It was almost like deja vu. The same bear, walking in the same steps, in the same manner closed the distance as he moved toward a shooting lane.

This time I would be ready and I came to full draw awaiting the bear to offer me a shot. I could hear the steady hum of the camera as David taped the approaching bear. My muscles were tight and my breathing was becoming uncontrollable. “Calm down”, I told my self as I struggled to maintain my nerves. He was mine this time and the whole world was going to see me take him. But just as my confidence soared, I once again found myself looking eye to eye with the bruin. He looked at me as if to say-Who do you think you are fooling? And just like the day before turned and ran away. The roller coaster of emotions was enough to almost make me throw up. He had beaten us fair and square and that was all there was to it. David and I discussed what had happened as dark started approaching, but just before the evening concluded, I caught a quick glimpse of what appeared to be another black bear.

The hunt was back on, and suddenly the sighting became concrete as a huge bodied black bear walked out in a clearing. The back of my throat became tight, my leg started to quiver, this was going to be my last chance.

With David’s signal letting me know he had the bear in frame and in focus, I began to draw my bow. Concentrating, I told myself to “pick a spot and follow through”.

The green florescent pin on my sight glowed on the pelt of the pitch-black bruin, as I settled it behind his shoulder. I let the arrow fly and immediately realized that my shot was true as the shaft penetrated up to the fletchings tight in behind his shoulders. The bear ran out of sight before crashing in the thick brush signaling that my Rocky Mountain broadhead had won the battle over him.

I was so pumped I nearly put my safety belt to the test as struggled to stay in the stand. Even though the bear I shot was not the blond, I knew he would be Pope and Young and push three hundred pounds. Our hunt was complete. We had done what we had sought out to do.

Back at camp, the rest of the hunting party met us. Come to find out Rick and Bill (Mr.Whitetail) had both shot pope and young class bears. Rick had shot his with a long bow at ten yards away, and Bill had shot what appeared to be the biggest bear so far. It was a bruiser that had to go over the three hundred-pound mark.

David’s dad Don had also had an encounter with a big boar, and if his homemade cedar shaft, shot from his traditional long bow had been three inches higher he would have been showing him off as well.

That night after dinner as the youngsters settled into their sleeping bags and the lodge grew quiet. We stayed up with cold glasses of tea and warm brownies and laughed and listened to each other as we recapped our bear hunting adventure. It was more that any of us had ever dreamed it would be, and you can bet that we will definitely be back.

Outfitter information
Brian and Sylvia Hoffart offer first class hunting and lodging. For more information on hunting deer, bear or waterfowl in Saskatchewan, Canada call: 306-832-2084

Brian and Sylvia Hoffart
Green Lake Hunting Lodge
Box 99
Green Lake, Saskatchewan Canada SOM-IBO