But who's counting?

The hypnotic ring of fire

A bar, a pole, some moaning, some beer, and lots of action. Well if that doesn't get your attention! It's probably not what you think but all this was just a part of our bachelor party adventure from this past weekend.

Let me clarify a little; a gravel bar, some fishing poles, a moaning sow bear, some Busch Lite, and plenty of bass action...that is a recipe for a fun country-boy bachelor party.

Ever since I moved to the Umpqua river there's always been a section of river I've wanted to fish but it is mostly inaccessible. There are no boat ramps or bank fishing for 20 miles in some of the bassiest, most beautiful water you'll ever find anywhere. What a better time to explore it than right before my friend's wedding? Steve is getting hitched next month...right in the middle of bear season. I warned him I most likely won't make the wedding because I'll be in the woods, but will try to make up for my absence with a good fishing adventure...little did we know what was in store!

Ready to launch

We loaded the raft with camping gear Thursday night and headed out into the unknown just an hour before dark. Our only plan was to have fun...and ultimately find our dropped off car 20 miles downriver by Saturday afternoon. I felt like Jedediah Smith and his trapping party floating the mighty Umpqua with a load of beaver pelts and rations in search of adventure...except instead of cedar canoes we rode in a rubber raft, instead of flintlocks we carried graphite bass rods, and instead of the threat of Umpqua indian warriors we were on alert for bears.

We had a goal to catch lots of smallmouth, but with rain and cooler temperatures in the forecast we wondered whether the fishing would be "on". Two casts into our trip confirmed there was no need to worry, Fish on! We counted each bass that was reeled in and released, just for fun.

"Did ya bring a gun Steve?" I asked while unhooking a small bass. "No, why?" Steve responded a bit concerned. "You never know" I replied. Neither of us had brought along a gun in case a 2 or 4-legged comes moseying into camp, and we're along ways from anything. That night we found a rock bar for a camp spot, we scarfed down a whole rack of BBQ ribs, and told stories till bedtime. We were pumped and ready to wake up for a full-day of bass fishing.

There was a threat from rain so we built a makeshift tarp tent that worked just fine.

Baby back ribs on the river

We woke up the next morning and we're on the river by 7:00.  I'll just say the fishing was on fire. Everything we threw at the hungry bass they inhaled. The scenery was super as we saw all types of wildlife; Bald eagles, ospreys, rough-skinned newts, western pond turtles, black-tailed deer, raccoons, river otters, and beaver.

Steve and I both watched this ol' hen suck in a crawler "Set the hook!!!!"

Deer, bass, floating the river...does it get any better!???

By that evening we had caught and released 201 bass and we were ready to fillet a few fish for dinner and set-up camp. We found a remote section of river lined with white cobblestone that stood out from the millions of green shades choking the river's edge. A fitting place for our camp, or Jedediahs', or an entire Umpqua indian fishing party hundreds of years ago.

We got camp set-up just in time to do a little fishing. I threw a topwater plug in the water and across the river in the steep timber I hear "Bwaaaaaaa". I looked at Steve and he looked at me. "Bear!...?" I softly screamed. Steve was convinced it was a lost cow that somehow the sounds were bouncing off the canyon walls and making it sound like it was closer than it was. I wanted to believe him...since I forgot my .357, but knew we were miles from cattle country. I kept fishing  hoping I wouldn't hear the sound again. "Bwaaaahaaaa", this time I knew what I heard and it was a bear.

Later as the light faded into darkness, we stoked the fire and heard the moaning grunts again. This time Steve was convinced it was right across the river and it was a bear. What an experience, sitting next to a fire in a remote spot, listening to a bear! Wait, it gets better.

Steve doesn't really have 4 eyes, he just wears his glasses like this.

Steve  fishing the bar and listening to the bear-in-heat...just on the other side of the river. Little did we know what would happen that night

Laying back and enjoying the sounds of breeding bears

My hearing isn't what it once was, I'll admit. I kinda watched Steve's facial expressions to gauge what was going on in the darkness, as his ears were on full-alert pegged to the riverside. A quick jerk of his head and bulging eyes told me something is happening. "Mike, listen!" We jumped up from the fire ring and ran to the riverside to hear the low growl of a bear chomping and popping it's jaws. A sound I have heard many times being around trapped bears frequently.  A little splash in the water, a growl, and suddenly a full on bear fight between two boars 100 yards away on the other side of the river. Suddenly, the mighty Umpqua river seemed more like a trickle, and it was the only thing that seperated us from two pissed-off boars!

"Thank God they are on the other side of the river" I squeaked with a lump in my throat. Man, Jedediah's ghost must have fallen off his log, laughing so hard at these two rough, modern explorers. Steve's eyes bulge, "Hear that!" "Yea, what is it?!" (I didn't really hear anything). "One of the bears just jumped in the water and it's swimming!"... "Swimming?" I questioned loudly in my head. hmmm........swimming to where....? Just then I can hear a large animal blowing loudly through its nose trying to keep water out. The wake of the creature broke-up the moonlit reflections on the lazy river, "It's coming this way!!!"

I reached for my .357....I mean my headlamp and a rock and began yelling at the bear. It's eye's reflected an evil yellow in my light as it approached "our side" of the river. It wasn't going to turn around, it came to shore just 70 yards below the rock bar and like a freight train broke through the brush...and then nothing.

"Baaaah!" We heard once again across the river. Ahhhh! were surrounded by bears that don't give a damn were yelling and talking loud! It was a sow-in-heat and these boars were gettin' to it!
We returned to the fire uneasily and listened to the ol' sow moan and groan regularly. We can't continue floating downriver in the dark, there are rapids around the corner, hell, we don't even know how to navigate them in the daylight. We made the decision we would stay (and fight) and take in the experience...that's what Jedediah would do, but with flintlock in hand.

I laid back and listened to the pure sounds of nature. You didn't need perfect hearing to capture the sounds that surrounded us. Although each sound was unique; the cricket chirp, the bullfrog's croak, the night hawk's buzz, the bear's moan; however, the sounds all carried the same meaning...just at different frequencies. They were all reproductive/territorial calls, the sounds of survival...the need to pass on their seed. Raw nature.

We made our makeshift tarp tent and went to sleep. I wondered what sort of bear prank I could play on Steve that night but thought it might not be appropriate...damn my conscience. I slept like a bear, until sometime in the wee hours of the morning all hell broke loose.

With a swift punch on my back, "Mike, there's a bear right here in camp right now, it just crossed the river! Get up!" I jumped out of my blissful dreaming throwing kung fu and yelling while tearing down the tarp with the hopes to spook the incoming beast with pure confusion and raw tenacity. Bare-footed, we leap from the tent to find nothing. The strategy seemed to work. I looked at Steve who then recounted the story of waking up and hearing the loud breathing once again, I was beginning to believe he just fell victim to my sleep apnea, but he mentioned he heard it stepping on the cobblestones as it rose out of the water near our raft...and that's when he decided to punch me.

We went back to sleep to the sounds of moaning sow. We woke up around 6:30 to still the wonderful sounds of moaning sow and grumpy boars. Wow, what a night.

The soon-to-be groom getting in some flirting before tying the knot

Topwater slug!

The next day rained but it was plenty warm. The fishing was still on fire with topwater action all morning. We floated through some of the most gin clear water and breathtaking surroundings and couldn't have asked for more of an adventure. What a trip. I can't help but feel ol' Jedediah would have been proud to be a part of our adventure, I know we sure could've used his flintlock. Oh yeah, and in case you're wondering, we released 296 fish in a day and a half of fishing...but who's counting?