the best kinda miss
As always I started first of August cruising through the mountains surveying the white oak
acorn crop. Going to every big stand of white oak that I can think of. Going high, going low,
north slope, south slope, just trying to find the sweet spot of acorn production. It’s different
every year, hardly ever do the same trees hit two years in a row.
After a couple weeks I had found the spot, a sharp mountain top with a briar patch on top and
white oaks all around the edges. Several had been climbed and had the limbs ripped out. I
glassed all the trees for acorns and the majority of them were loaded heavy. I decided this
would be the spot for opening day unless I found something better.
Opening morning , it’s raining, it’s windy, it’s foggy, it’s the worst possible weather for bear
hunting. I sit till mid morning with no action, if it wasn’t opening day I wouldn’t have even
went. I know I’m going back in the evening rain or shine but I’m really hoping for better
weather. Sure enough by 4 o’clock the skies have cleared, wind died down and changed
direction. I take a different route to the top to stay down wind. I just got that feeling that it’s
going to be good so I’m going slow, really looking ahead trying to catch a glimpse of him and
not spook anything. I’m nearly to the top when I see him, just walking slowly down the edge of
the briar patch. I load an arrow as he’s coming by at 15 yds. Now I’m thinking how easy this is
going to be and how awesome it’s gonna be to get my bear on opening day. When I saw my
arrow fly over his back my mood changed drastically.
I hunt that top for two more days with no bears seen. Now I’m leaving home for other
adventures and won’t be back bear hunting till mid October. When I get back to the bear grind
it’s different. Whites have played out, reds are everywhere and I just can’t find sign of bears
feeding on them. 10 days in I got nothing, just old bear sign on the expired white oaks. Then I
hear a couple reports of guys seeing bears on hickory nuts. So now strategy has changed. I’m
looking at all the big stands of hickorys that I know about and sure enough almost everywhere I
go there’s bear sign. Over the next few days I have a couple close calls but I’m getting
anxious. It’s now the last few days of October and getting late for bear hunting. By now bears
are fat and lazy, days are shorter which means more darkness to hide in. Sure there’s plenty of
bears shot through November but prime time has past.
My son Coleman and I head to one of favorite spots for an afternoon hunt. He’s sitting on a
ridge where he got a glimpse of a bear the day before. I’m half mile away just cruising a big
ridge with scattered hickory trees. Then I hear that sound, it’s unmistakable, the sound of a
bear eating hickory nuts. It’s loud popping with brief pauses. I walk during the popping and
listen during the pauses. I get to 22yds, a little far for me but it’s getting dark fast. This arrow
leaves me a dead bear 50 yds away.
Coleman and I skin the bear in the dark in a deep secluded holler. Laughing and talking about
our hunts we’ve had so far, this is utopia for us. I’m no longer disappointed that I missed that
first bear, that miss meant I would spend more time in these mountains, my favorite thing to do.
