Spring bear season is in full swing here in Montana. The weather is warmer than normal and the snow has pulled back from the hillsides on all but the highest elevations.
Two weeks ago I tossed a few items in my pack early one morning and headed toward a favorite trailhead in the Gallatin Range just north of Yellowstone Park. Driving south along the Gallatin river I was happy to see a large herd of elk grazing out on a sagebrush flat. A raggy horn bull still touted his horns. A few cows still had calves in tow from last summer, the product of the late second estrus cycle. I pulled over and watched them for a few minutes through my binoculars. It was comforting to see that the late born calves had survived the winter. The cows will start calving this year’s bunch here in a couple of weeks. These elk are the remnant of what was once the Porcupine Herd, a resident group of Gallatin Canyon elk that once numbered over 800 animals. FWP Biologist Julie Cunningham’s arial count of the herd in 2010 tallied only 132. Politcally, no one wants to say it is the wolves, but ask anyone living along the canyon or the outfitters who have shut down their operations in Gallatin National Forest. There is no doubt among them. Wolves, Grizzlies, Mountain Lions.
I park at the trailhead and start up a steep section that leads to a large sagebrush flat about two miles in. South facing slopes border the flat and are greening up. Here I might catch a bear out in the grass. After hibernation, a bear’s diet is entirely vegetation until his system can handle meat.
Padding along quietly I pass a spike bull bedded under some pines. Then two older bulls, now hornless, stand up quietly from their beds not 50 yards away. Stumps of new horn growth are already showing. They finally turn and trot away, heads held back and high.
I move along, glassing every few minutes. Feeding bears keep moving. You dont have a lot of time to get on one once its spotted. I cross the wide meadow and climb higher into a pine forest spotted with small parks. Walking along a ridge I spot a set of tracks in the snow in the small basin below me. They look human. Maybe a horn hunter was in here? Closer inspection reveals marks left from a set of long claws. Grizzly. I set my size 12 boot alongside the track and it matches my foot for length and the width by twice. Big bear. Seeing the tracks makes me instintively reach for the pepper spray on my belt to make sure its there. I do that a lot in this country. Constantly reaching down to fondle the loop on the canister. Making sure my hand goes to the right place without too much thought or fumbling.
Later I find another set of grizzly tracks, these a bit smaller. Two active grizzlies in the same area. I keep moving but with a heightened sense of vigilence. I have a mind that likes to wander but I allow myself no daydreaming in here.
A couple of hours later I am moving along an elk trail when a flash of black squirts through the trees below me. I shoulder the Nosler and lean against a tree for support. I find the bear in my scope just as he pauses broadside to stare at me. The crosshairs settle on his shoulder at 60 yards but he is gone before I can determine how big he is. A moment later he scurries across an opening below me. He is a beautiful bear with a coal black coat and light brown legs, a color phase I have never seen. I guess his weight at around 175 -200 lbs. While not a small bear, he isn’t large enough to justify a four mile hump out carrying bear hide and meat. And probably two trips at that. I am not bothered that I didn’t shoot. Two hours later I am back at the truck, exhilarated with the morning’s hunt. Happy to have put some miles on my legs and thrilled at seeing bear, deer, elk and the grizzly tracks.
The next weekend I drag Tami four miles up into the Bridger Mountains early one morning. Getting on the trail at 5:00 AM has us up in the high basins on the western slope of the Bridgers by 8:00 AM. Mule deer are abundant up here. Unfortunately the bears are not. After a couple hours of glassing (me) and a nap (her), we rack the morning up as a good conditioning hike and head home. We drive into Bozeman that evening for the Mule Deer Foundation banquet. Jim Burnworth, host of the outdoor show “Western Extreme” is the guest speaker. Tami and I end up sitting at the table with Jim and his family. Jim volunteered his time to come over from Spokane and support the MDF. Mule deer are in serious decline in every state in the west. It was interesting to chat with Jim about what goes into making his show.
The horses were shod last week so Dan and I took them for a ride in the Madison range under the auspices of bear hunting. We were all a bit rusty so it was good to shake things out. Bow season opens in just over three months. It felt good to be back in the saddle. It felt even better to glass over the hillsides literally covered with elk. Everywhere we looked there were elk out grazing. Again no bears, but we are rewarded with a couple of elk sheds that we add to the pile in the tack room. The next afternoon Tami and I hike 4.5 miles up Goose Creek in a constant rain. Again no bears and only a couple of elk sighted over a mile off feeding just before dark. More conditioning.
This Saturday Dan and I are heading back down the Gallatin Canyon for another ride. Maybe we will catch a glimpse of one of the grizzlies. This time, with horses in tow, a black bear might not be so lucky.
Till next time.