Don't Go Bear Hunting Alone

by Jaret Owens

It was the spring of 1980, I was guiding brown bear hunts for Don Johnson on the Alaska Peninsula. The weather was good, and the bears were out. Hunting and guiding can be stressful when you have hunters from all over the world that have paid big dollars for a lifetime hunt and then the weather gets bad, or bears are hard to find for whatever reason. We were fortunate to find all our hunters nice bears early in the season and everyone was happy.

Warren Johnson, Don’s son, told the guides we could go home early. He was just fixing to pay me. “No, thanks. I would rather shoot a bear than be paid.” I said, “The weather is still good. How about dropping me off on the Pacific side of the Alaska Peninsula, at Grub Bay for the rest of the season?" It was approximately five days.

Warren responded, “Well let me check. I think we can arrange that. We are going over that way to break down some of the camps anyway.”

I was excited because being a guide it seemed I never got to go hunting for myself. I could hardly wait.

I packed up enough gear for a week and then some and loaded it into the super cub. I told the other guides about my plan, and they said good luck. Some of them thought I was crazy, but to be an Alaskan guide you really must enjoy the beautiful wild country and be a little crazy. You must have an inner drive. Even though you’re cold, wet, lonely, beat up and often exhausted there is something in you that makes you keep hunting and wanting to see what’s over the next mountain.

We took off in the super cub. Terry, our pilot, and also a guide, flew me over the snow-covered mountains. In about 40 minutes we were on the Pacific side of the Alaska Peninsula and landed on a sandbar at Grub Bay. He said he’d be back in five days and, if he was in the area, he would check on me. In those days we didn’t have satellite phones, let alone cell phones. If we had a problem, it was our problem. Sometimes if we got game early or needed to be picked up we would tie an orange plastic bag or a space blanket to a pole or bushes to flutter in the wind just in case our pilot was doing a flyby check.

After the plane left, I put my tent up where I had some shelter from the wind. The Alaska Peninsula is where I think weather is made. It’s always blowing and raining, but sometimes you luck out and have a nice day. There are no trees, just alders. I made some "dead mans" by burying some big driftwood logs into the ground to tie the guy lines to the tent. This would help hold my tent down in the strong winds. The wind can blow so hard it’s scary. Just off the coast was not far from where the crab fisherman fish and where the movie The Deadliest Catch is filmed in violent ocean water.

That evening, I walked out to a vantage point and glassed the snowy mountains. Technically, according to Alaska law you can’t fly and hunt the same day. I watched several sows and cubs. I enjoyed watching the cubs wrestle and roll hundreds of feet in the snow. I could see a few caribou and foxes. It was very quiet and lonely. The next morning I was up at 5 in the morning on a vantage point glassing ready to hunt.

Ptarmigan were all over carrying on. Caribou were moving along with their young calves. I saw a few bears, mostly sows and cubs and a few three or four year olds, but nothing to get excited about. That time of year the days were getting notably longer and it was getting light at 5AM and dark around midnight. That evening, about a half mile out on a snow covered mountain, I was watching where the caribou were crossing through a pass. Then out of nowhere a big bear ran down the mountain and grabbed a caribou calf. He ran back up to his favorite spot, in his mouth then had his dinner.

I wanted that bear. I figured it would take me an hour or so to get up there. He looked like a 9-foot bear. I grabbed my pack and took off. Looking back on this, it was not in good judgment to go after a bear that far out and late in the day. It took me almost an hour and a half to get through the rugged snow-covered terrain. I had to cross little canyons filled with snow hiding swift creeks running underneath. I kept falling through. That was a spooky, dangerous area but I managed to crawl out. I think it scared the pee out of me. Yes, in those days, I had more energy than brains. After about an hour and a half I got up to where the bear had killed the caribou and found two more calves he had killed and eaten. The big bear was nowhere to be found. It was almost 10 o’clock and clouds were blocking the sun making it seem later. I raced back down trying to keep my landmarks to get back to my tent. I was just starting to learn that hunting would be a lot more enjoyable and safer by sharing the experience with someone else.

The next morning I was up early glassing and listening to the ptarmigan cluck. They sound a little bit like pigs grunting. After a couple hours of glassing, I spotted what appeared to be the same big bear, approximately 600 yards out, heading towards the big island of alders which were already growing new leaves. I checked the wind with my cigarette lighter and stayed downwind. I got closer till he was about 150 yards out. I had always told my hunters you don’t want to shoot a bear on the edge of the alders. It’s best to wait until they are in a clearing, so you have time to get a second bullet in them. No one likes tracking a wounded bear through the alders. I broke my own rule. I sat down with my 375, aimed, and send a round toward the big bear. I heard the bullet make a solid hit on the bear. He quickly disappeared into the alders. I chambered another round and waited for him to reappear. I quietly and patiently watched hoping he would come out but he never did. It started raining, not hard but I put my raincoat on to keep dry. In Alaska you don’t want to get wet as it’s so very hard to ever dry out and so very easy to get hypothermia.

After an hour I walked over to where I saw the bear last. I marked the spot with toilet paper and then slowly and cautiously started going through the alders. To make a long story short I searched two days for the bear and never found him. I think when I went into the alders the bear winded me and ran out in a blind spot and I never saw him. I was just sick. I learned some valuable lessons on that bear hunt by myself. It’s always so sad and disappointing when you hunt so hard and you lose an animal, no matter what it is. I was sick about losing that large bear for a long time.

Yes, I needed a hunting buddy not only for safety when I fell through the ice, but also to help look for a wounded bear and to enjoy and share the hunt with.

Happy Hunting!