How to make Bear pepporoni

Recently I learned I'll be moving from Oregon to Wyoming. Good move? I think so.

With that, there is a lot of unique hunts and wildlife diversity you may only get in Oregon that I will cherish and miss. One hunt that I will miss is bear hunting with good friends. This spring's bear hunt was one of my favorite.

I stuck fairly close to home and had the pleasure to pass on and watch several bears.One day while out with my buddy Dan, we had already passed a small "monkey" bear that looked like he rubbed every inch of hair of his backside. We were headed to some upper clear-cuts when I noticed a big black blob 400 yards down below. Typically, I might tell Dan to shoot, even if I spotted it...but the size of this bear told me to grab my own gun!

After a few minutes of judging the bear and enjoying observing him strolling towards the timberline, and Dan impatiently wondering if I'm going to shoot, I decided to pull the trigger. The giant bear bolted towards the cover as fast as it's 350+ lb body allow it. Hopefully, this isn't my last Oregon bear.

The entire bear was turned into ground jerky and pepperoni sticks.  Oh yeah, which reminds me...I was supposed to explain how to make bear pepperoni, as implied by the blog title: 

Step 1.

Find bear sign. Know what the bears want to eat and focus on those areas in the most remote steep you can find.

See the bear?

Step 2.

Put on the miles on your pick up and your binoculars. It is a numbers game where you will need to look at so much ground before finding a bear; however, I promise you will have some adventure while looking for your perfect bear.

Step 3.

You found a bear. Now decide if it is the bear you want. If so, kill it.

I never thought I could find a bear that would make Dan look like a kid. Dan is about 8 ft tall and 350.
I might be exaggerating a bit but he is a giant.

Step 4.

Buy Cabela's pepperoni seasonings (it's my favorite) and follow the instructions. Viola! See you in Wyoming.

Stop and smell the roses

 

And we were off on our 6 day adventure! It's been 6 years since the last time I had been to this bear hunting spot, ohh...how I couldn't wait to get back. As we parked the trucks, the only obstacle between us and our campspot was twenty miles of snow drifts, downed trees, and whatever else fell onto the roadway through the winter season winter. We were to blaze this part of the trail on ATVs, prepared with chainsaws, winches, and a strong will to arrive at our destination: bear camp. 

Sulfur lupine and Indian paintbrush stroke a picturesque forefront with the Blue mtn background 

1894 lever, meet the 2013 long range

 We blazed through the snow drifts in the higher country and only got stuck twice and only had to use the chainsaw once on a ponderosa that blocked passage. We then dropped elevation a bit and out of the snow and home-free towards camp. Boy, the April showers sure did wonders producing May flowers. Armies of wild flowers broke through the warm, fertile soil and a carpet of green grasses leaving a breathtaking views of the Blue Mountains.

 

Tyler Berry, Steve Frambes, and I were here to hunt bears in eastern Oregon. Tyler and I both had tags and Steve was carrying a video camera to capture the beauty of the hunt. I brought my great grandpa's (the same grandpa who was stabbed by Pancho Villa himself, but that is another story) old 30 WCF. That's right, the ol' 1894 Winchester 30-30 that a Mexican traded my great pappy for a saddle from the Burrell Bros. Saddlery around 1914 (that's a story in itself as well).  Tyler also brought his compound and his "long bow". We call it the "long bow", but it's actually a "long range" rifle capable of 1000 yard accuracy in the right hands. We thought we'd hunt short-range for several days, relax, and then pull out the long bow if needed. Besides, no one really wanted to kill a bear the first few days of the hunt anyways. We were there to enjoy the thrill of the chase!   

Did we get our relaxation? Yes, We lounged around like bears, glassing, snacking, taking naps on the ridge lines surrounded by picturesque valleys while the warm sun kissed our cheeks. our souls soaked up much-needed solar energy after a rainy winter in western Oregon. Have I mentioned the flowers? Maybe my increased awareness on the smaller parts of the hunt, like flowers, comes with age. The colors of the landscape seemed so super-saturated with brilliant shades that I never even knew existed.     

 

Wild onions in the forefront. The ridge in the center of the picture is where I killed a big chocolate bear 6 years prior

 

I had several opportunities with my lever. On one occasion, I worked my way down a steep slope to get up close on a bear. I snuck around the root wad of a bleached ponderosa snag  that had fallen over but was still taller than the roof on my car. I thought about climbing on top of the log and waiting for the bear to show itself below me. Instead, I continued creeping downhill around the snag since the wind was inconsistent and the bear could wind me at anytime. 

I had snuck 20 yards below the old snag when I caught a glimpse of the bear above me jump onto the old snag and walk across it right where I had planned to wait. I knew the gig was up once the bear would cross my path and catch my scent. I raised my lever as the bear caught my wind, then turned to run off. The brown-colored bear weighed less than I do and it's ears looked too big for it's head, kinda like a young kids still trying to grow into his hands or feet. 

I cocked the hammer back and coaxed with my lips. The bear stopped and looked at me nervously. My finger tightened around the polished trigger...I hesitated and then relaxed as I put the gun down without firing. I smiled and watched the bear dive off the log into the timber. I wasn't ready to kill, plus the bear wasn't as big as I wanted.

Onion fields

In the springtime, the hungry bears key in on the lush plant life that sprout on the warm south-slopes. Wild onions, arrow-head balsam, mules ear, and fresh grass chutes are ripe for the taking. We glassed dozens of bears ignoring their cautious instincts of staying hidden and following their hungry stomachs onto these wide-open slopes. We watched sows stuffing themselves while the cubs frolicked on their onion playgrounds like a couple of kids. 

Steve glassing for Houdini

A few days into the hunt I still wasn't ready to tag a bear although that didn't stop me from seeing how close I could get to some of them. I glassed a bear from 800 yards, so I grabbed my lever and tried to close the distance. I was hurrying my way along on a insanely steep slope when I just happened to look below me and spotted another one, of the cinnamon flavor, right below me a hundred yards! The bear was so busy stuffing it's mouth with groceries, it didn't have a clue I was in-range and that I was growing an itch on my trigger finger. 

The cinnamon bear in the middle of the photo was 80 yards away and coming towards me. Emily loves to eat cinnamon bears...maybe I should have shot this one. 

Well, I couldn't do it. The bear wasn't real large and honestly, I didn't feel like breaking the morning air with an explosion of gun powder. The morning was quiet but busy with animals displaying the same instinctual rituals they've exhibited year after year and I was enjoying the show. I watched the bear fill it's belly, while a red-tailed hawk soared overhead. A blue grouse strutted his charcoal fantail somewhere nearby emitting a loud, deep series of "whoops". I reached down, picked and ate a wild  onion and soaked it all in.  

Glacier lily stretching after a long, cold winter under 5 ft. of snow

A very large boar enjoying the evening shade

Four days into the hunt, found us watching a pair of coyotes pestering a lone cow elk, who unceasingly chased each coyote away from a patch of willows where her small, helpless calf laid. I questioned whether or not I should help out the elk with a quick trigger pull on the dominant male coyote who stayed just out of reach of her sharp hooves, but with little fear of the 800 pound mama.

"I got a bear" radioed Steve. He described the location and Tyler and ranged the brown dot at over 800 yards away. We quickly closed the distance to 753 yards. We couldn't get any closer as it was straight across a canyon with nothing but empty air between us. I laughed at Tyler as he tried to lay prone on the steep, rocky grade. I reminded him whether he hits the bear or not, we have the responsibility to go and check...which looked like it could be a 4 hour ordeal. If he wounds the bear the recovery could take all night into the next day.

In a sense, I hoped that would discourage him from taking such a long-bomb shot. I wasn't in the mood to pack meat and hide quite yet. It didn't phase him as he was confident in his rifle and his ability to kill the bear. Boy, did that bear look a looong ways away across that canyon. My eyes were glued to my binocs when the bear turned broadside right before entering into the timber. I was just pondering the idea of how a small piece of copper could project so accurately across such a long distance when, "Kaboom!" I watched the bear jump and tip right over like it was stone-cold dead. Tyler looked my direction, "Well, did I hit it?" he asked. "You smoked it!" I replied.  "Really?" he replied with a surprise. For a man with such confidence in his shooting ability, I wondered why he was surprised he hit it.

We had to beat feet to race the incoming darkness so we weren't looking for a potentially wounded bear on it's turf in complete darkness. After a long atv ride and a fast-paced hike, we found the dead bear right where I had last seen it fall just as the last ribbon of pink outlined the western horizon. The 168 grain bullet entered behind the shoulder, fractured with the majority of copper entering into the back of the neck making for a quick "light's out". With three of us excited to put our hands on a dead bear, we made quick work of salvaging meat and hide and packing the loads back to the machines. We shared a great campfire that night. The bear was a beautiful chocolate sow with a long, weathered head, and a need for dentures. The incisors and molars were worn to the nerves and flat with the gum in spots.

It was my turn. We had one more day to hunt and I told both Steve and Tyler that it didn't matter if I killed a bear so let's don't feel the pressure. We spent the morning looking for a good bear. We found some bears that were good enough to pull the camera out and watch for a while, but nothing big (or close) enough to pull the rifle out on.

Nearly everyday of the hunt,we had seen one chocolate bear that would come out from a north timbered slope and feed on a particular ridge top. One evening I hiked in to the area with Steve and hoped to outsmart the bear. Steve and I waited in ambush mode for hours but the bear never came out. He was given the name Houdini as he seemed to disappear and suddenly reappear once we were out of range.

Steve videoing a mama bear and her two cubs on the last morning of the hunt.

The last afternoon of the hunt, we parked the machines and glassed across a mile of canyon where Houdini liked to hang out. Houdini wasn't in his normal spot but a darker chocolate bear of similar size was there feeding. Tyler and I quickly made plans to head over that way which is a 12 mile ride and a mile hike. Steve would stay put and keep his eye on the bear.

Tyler owns a nice Polaris RZR; however on this trip the machine was acting up. Somethin' to do with a sensor being dirty, blah-blah-blah. Anyway, it was feeding the engine too much gas and the only way to drive the machine without flooding it was pedal-to-the-metal. Now, I've been on some hair-raisin' atv rides that I would consider fast and furious. N-o-t-h-i-n-g compared to the 12 mile ride full-bore with Tyler behind the wheel. I'd lie If I was to say that it didn't add a little to the excitement, I have trust in Tyler's driving abilities. He was a natural-borne baja motorcross driver.  I'd also be lying if I said I didn't wet myself a little in fear zipping around some of the hairpin turns.

Anyways, we got to our location in record time. Steve let us know that the bear had disappeared, of course. Well, we had a few more hours of light left on the last evening. I made the decision that I wanted to sit it out and wait for either Houdini or his chocolate sidekick to comeback out to their hangout. I have never killed a bear by patterning them and the idea sounded too good to pass up. Steve mentioned he already had another bear or two spotted 5 miles away and we should come back over. Tyler, as well, wasn't sure if he wanted to sit and watch a 2 acre ridge for the rest of the evening. Fortunately for me, I had the tag and I had ultimate say. We were to sit and wait!

Tyler made this bouquet of wildflowers for his little girl

An hour past sitting and waiting while Tyler reminded me it was the last hours of the last evening. During the second hour, they both encouraged me to go find another bear. By the third hour, I began questioning my own sanity. We just stared and stared at the saddle ridge waiting for any bear to amble out following it's hungry stomach. Tyler and I persevered through a rainstorm and high winds watching and waiting. With just a half hour of light left I really began questioning whether a bear was going to appear, while watching the exact brush where I hoped it would show itself 400 yards below. Just then, I wasn't sure if it was my cruel imagination or if there really was a chocolate bear stepping right out of the brush I was staring at. "Tyler!!! BEAR!!!!" I yelled as quiet as I could. Tyler jumped towards the video camera "REALLY?!!!"

I reached for my gun. "Yes, this time I'm not kidding!". During the 4 hours of waiting we played jokes on each other "crying wolf" many times! It wasn't Houdini but the choco bear we saw hours prior and although he wasn't a great big bear, how could I not shoot the bear after investing so much time waiting for it to come back out? The video was rolling as we called out the yardage right around 350 yards. My shot hit the bear a little low and the bear spun in circles. I really wanted to anchor the bear on the saddle since it was cliff-like on both sides. I shot again and again as it spun around. The follow-up shots finished the job, but not before it gained momentum downhill. The last glimpse I had of the bear was all four legs spread straight out cartwheeling through the air gaining speed like a massive boulder being pushed off of a cliff!

Descending towards the bear. We haven't even hit the steep stuff yet!

I was certain he had rolled the 2000' below to the river. The blood trail was the biggest I'd seen from a bear as he bounced on the earth's surface every 15' taking out large pits in the dirt before finally getting hung up in some brush roughly half-way down the canyon. The bear was a 180 pound boar with a white chest patch. The picture-taking session was quick and difficult since we couldn't position the bear, let alone ourselves, in fear that it would roll the rest of the way down the mountain.

Good pictures or not, the memory is etched in my mind and Tyler and Steve's willingness to help pack-out the bear was appreciated. It was as steep as a climb as I've ever packed out any animal. We needed to spread out on the climb out to prevent an injury from falling rock and use both our feet and hands to climb up and prevent slipping backwards and imitating a similar death fall that the bear experienced.

I still get a bit giddy thinking about patterning the bear and waiting him out successfully. Houdini will live for another year.

Hooker's Balsamroot 

What a super trip. Great campfires, great weather, great Camaraderie, and great success finding bears. We'd seen over 40 different bears in the 6 day back country trip. Not to mention, awesome scenery and timing for the wildflower blooms. The next morning we packed all of our belongings back onto the atvs. Six days earlier, when we first left the pick-ups to head towards bear camp, we couldn't get to camp fast enough. Now, six days later and on our way back to the pick-up, the drive was much slower. Each mountain was now more familiar. We took more stops to look over the valleys or take a picture of an alpine meadow full of flowers. The older I get I realize sometimes, you need to just STOP...and smell the roses.

A carpet of Alpine Shooting stars

Berry, Beary good time

Finally, hunting season is upon us. For most, hunting season begins with their archery hunt, typically around the end of August, but for the Oregon bear hunter their season begins August 1st. Every year that I hunt Oregon's black bear, I enjoy it more and more...it is the perfect way to kickoff all of the other hunting seasons!

This year would be a bit different since Emily took the kids on a pilgrimage back to Utah to visit family during the first two weeks of bear season. That left me alone...which don't get me wrong I don't like being away from my family, but I vowed to keep very busy between work and my free time focused on bears. I was going to burn the candle at both ends.

Why hunt bears? There are lots of reasons. They taste great, they are over-abundant in Oregon, they are major predators to ungulate populations (direct competition with me, the human hunter), and because they are an incredibly challenging animal to locate, let alone hunt and kill...and that challenge is what I enjoy.

How do you hunt Oregon bears? There is one consistency with these bears and that is their huge appetite. You must find what they are eating. In Oregon, hunters cannot bait bears or pursue them with dogs, which means you face the challenge of looking for them in their element. You must know where to find them...which is a science in itself, believe me.

If you find their food, you'll find the bears. (notice brown-phased bear in background)

 To find bears consistently you need to be a Jack of many trades. Let me explain: You must be a botanist, to identify plant forage and know their blooming periods down to the week. Is that a black raspberry, which blooms on a typical year in mid-July, or is it a Himalayan blackberry, which blooms around the third week in August?...trailing blackberry? Elderberry? Salal berry? Manzanita berry? Thimble berry or salmon berry? They're all bear food and you better know which berry is ripe and just as important, which berries aren't...which means you must also be a climatologist so you can time the weather patterns with the bloom periods of the aforementioned crop. Has the warmer weather been delayed this season? Are higher-elevation berries 1.5 weeks behind this year?...or two weeks? It makes a difference.

 You must also be a forester. Bears, like all wildlife in western Oregon (including the Spotted owl) enjoy the diversity that comes with a clearcut forest. Succulent forbs and grasses and young, fast-growing conifer replace old stands of single species forests You must understand what is going on in each particular clear cut. What forage is available? Has the clear cut been sprayed? Fertilized? This affects what will grow. How old is the new upcoming fir and are they big enough already to overcrowd other vegetation, including berries? You need to understand bear biology and behavior. "If I was a bear...I would be over here in this berry stand because....". You need to think like a bear.

Native trailing blackberries (one of the sweetest berries in Oregon)

 After hundreds of miles on gravel roads dodging log trucks in search of a handful of clearcuts that have all the right ingredients to attract a bear, you are now ready to hunt.

I started the season with two bear tags in  my pocket, although I prefer to watch other people fill their tags first. Opening day, I went along with my good friend Trapper (yes, that's his real name), who was ready to kick off the season by filling his first tag. Trapper is the best bear hunter I know, period. At first light, we rolled into a clearcut only to have a bear run out of the clearcut and across the gravel road directly in front of my pick up and into the thick firs. "Son of a ...!" After checking another clearcut or two, we went to an old tried and true spot.

The young fir grows so quickly once planted in a clearcut, it is only good bear hunting for a few years before they choke out the berry patches or you can't see the bears even if they were in the cut. This particular spot is on it's way out as a good bear spot because of the growing trees, but it has been good to us. As we stopped to look over the cut, we heard a bear...then two bears before we ever spotted them. "I got a bear!" Trapper bursted out. "I can see the other one!" Trapper said smiling. I shake my head and smile back. I told you he's good.

Trapper's opening day bruin

Trapper set-up and killed the first bear, a nice blackie bruin that ate from the same patch of berries that Ron's bear was killed from 4 years prior. I really enjoy bear hunting with Trapper because of his ability that never ceases to amaze me.

Ron wouldn't be coming over until Saturday and it was Tuesday. Yikes, who wants to go bear hunting? I talked to one friend who grew up in western Oregon but had never killed a bear...He was up for a hunt. We went to a place near the house in the evening where we found 2 different bears, one was a mere 90 yards away greedily gorging on raspberries. Steve wanted to shoot that bear so bad; however, I told him I though it was a pretty small bear. I really wasn't trophy hunting, it was just that I thought the bear was 100-120 pound bear... one just a little too small to rug out the fur and not quite enough meat on the little guy. Steve showed great patience and we watched the two bears until dark. It was great.



Poor picture of the evening bear Steve passed up at 90 yards...too little.



Did I mention patience is a virtue? The next morning at another spot not too far away, I parked the pickup and within 2 minutes from leaving a pickup, We heard berry vines breaking directly below me....like 20 yards away. Time froze as Steve and I shared a smile. His rifle was up and ready to bark but Steve was a bit more reluctant after last night's experience wondering if  the bear was big enough or whether I was good at just finding little bears. "Is he big enough?" He whispered excitedly. I could hear the bear breathing. The bear looked up our way with a mouthful of berries and once I could see the distance between it's ear I nodded my head.



Look at that head! (Not Steve's, the bears)



What a great first bear. Sheesh.

Ron drove in on his annual trek arriving to the house at 3:30 am. I couldn't sleep from excitement and a bit of pressure to find bears. One thing was certain, we were runnin' on adrenaline and very little sleep. We slowly walked into the first clearcut at first light...a real producer for bears.

The clearcut was quiet but I knew better. I would have right then and there laid a thousand dollars down that there was indeed a bear out somewhere in the cut. "Mike, over here I got a bear!" says Ron. I was reeeeally glad to hear that since he was watching the piece of the unit that was easiest for a packout and shorter distance for shooting. The bear was under 400 yards and appeared to be an average-sized sow. We watched her for a while before Ron decided this was a great opportunity to fill his first tag.

The bear is an older bear with worn teeth and a beautiful tan muzzle. The packout was easy and the rest of the day was spent eating berries, taking naps in the shade, and catching up on old times.The next morning we met up with Trapper. We were headed to a good spot when Trapper mentioned that there was a clearcut he remembered that was due to be starting to put on a lot of crop...but he hadn't been there all season to look. It was a long ways from our scheduled route and the detour would eat into the best part of the morning to find bears. "Why not?" I said turning down the rock road. I've learned to follow Trapper's intuition.

We walked out to the end of a landing. Trapper was right, the blackcap berries were plentiful covering the hillsides. Cedar waxwings, band-tailed pigeons, and a million other birds were happily picking them from the vines. "Down in the bottom!" Trapper screamed quietly. A bear slowly zig-zagged through the thick vines taking mouthfulls of berries at a time. It was 500 yards which is further than I like to shoot but just right for Ron's long-range canon. I turned to tell Ron to go get his rifle...but he was already half way to the truck in full gallop.

I heard some noise to my right and spotted a great-sized boar step out from behind a ridge 300 yards away. This second bear was within my range no doubt. This was now getting interesting! I met Ron as he was returning with his rifle and video camera. I told him we may get a double this morning and I better get my rifle as well. He smiled with a head nod, "Yes sir, it's a great day boys!"

Well the planets, stars, and sun aligned and we were able to pull off a double bear kill on camera. Ron took the shot when given the opportunity right before the bear disappeared into the timber. Trapper quickly panned the camera after getting Ron's shot and focused on my bear just in time for it to stop running for a moment as I shot a 140 accubond from my 7 mm Rem Mag at 350 yards. What an awesome hunt! After the shots, two more bears appeared in the clear cut. We had two more tags but weren't looking to kill anymore that morning. The 100 pound packout was steep, maybe good exercise for the heart but horrible on the knees.

Ron went home with a cooler full of bear meat and hides and my family finally returned from Utah. Tyler Berry came over and hunted a couple days. We had a great time in the woods seeing lots of neat critters but he went home without a bear. We did see several but wether we couldn't set-up on them or he just plummed missed. Which is alright, I was getting tired of packing bears. Tyler missed the biggest bear I think I've seen all season at 250 yards. A huge blackie down in a steep old canyon. I know Tyler will replay that moment forever in his head...great memories. Don't let anyone tell you this bear hunting is easy.

Tyler Berry glassing over a clearcut

Tyler following the bear trail to look for any sign of hitting the big bear. Nothing...

Any guesses on wht type of bird these are? Look close.

Hunter had a close encounter yesterday. We went above the house to a clearcut that I've seen bears in before. If you remember last year Hunter and I missed (okay, I missed and Hunter was by my side) a bear in the same spot. Like last year, we arrived and after a few minutes of glassing we spotted a brown-phased bear swimming in berries. The hunt was on! Hunter grew more and more excited as he watched the bear through his binoculars. Uh-oh...Hunter's breathing became more sporadic and his speech started to slur. Hunter was getting a serious case of bear fever!

We slowly crept through the clear cut to close the distance. At 190 yards I respotted the bear and it appeared it was getting a bit nervous as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Hunter settled into the .257 WBY and shot as the bear fed broadside. The shot rung my ears and stung my soul as I watched the bear  look around before lumbering into the timber. A clean miss. Hunter unraveled emotionally. He cried on my shoulder knowing how hard it was to get to this point...and then to miss.

I patted his back and reminded him of the beautiful morning we shared, the coyotes howling, the blacktail deer, watching the sunrise, watching such a beautiful bear feeding in the berries. The challenge is part of the excitement. We walked down to where the bear stood to make sure it was a clean miss. As we moved in closer, we hear loud noises below in the timber. It's definitely a bear and it's close! I rip the gun from Hunter's shoulder ready for anything. Suddenly to my left, I hear the chomping jaws of a threatened bear. My deteriorating ability to pinpoint sounds (my hearing sucks) left me scrambling looking for the closeby bear.

"Dad, there's a bear!" Hunter pointed in a tree. Sure enough there are two 80 pound sub-adults 40 ft high in a Doug fir. I would hardly call them cubs. I laughed and shook my head. I'm very accustomed to looking for young bears around to prevent taking a female with cubs...I didn't see the two bears in the timber.

Those two bears should have been weaned from mama last year but they were the bear version of today's "moocher", adult children still living with mommy. These sibling bears did their best to threaten us with their teeth popping and raised hackle. Hunter and I plopped ourselves down on the log and watched the bear circus until we got bored and left them alone.

See the bears?

Now do you?

"Well son, although those bears are plenty old to live on their own...I'm glad you missed momma." I smiled to Hunter. He nodded his head and said "Me too, I'll never forget this morning dad."  I wondered as we walked back to the pickup how easily I could have slept the extra couple hours that morning and missed such a memory with my son.

We're gonna try again in the morning!