Up ahead, maybe 70 yards away, I could see that a bear was already on the bait. Richard Casement, my Saskatchewan guide, and I were easing through an alder thicket with plans to carve out a makeshift ground blind for my evening hunt. Earlier that day I’d been out with Cody Robbins, the outfitter, freshening some of the baits and checking trail cameras, and this particular spot had caught my eye. The bait sat in a valley at the end of an access trail that was flanked by two steep, thick hillsides. The whole place was soaked in bear sign, and a check of the trail camera revealed numerous bruins, including a couple nice ones, hitting the bait at all hours of the day.
“That’s a good spot, but there’s no stand,” Casement said. “We had a blind there, but the bears destroyed it. You could just go in and sit on the ground, but you’d have to be on your toes because you’ll have bears trying to mess with you. And I’d get out of there before it gets dark.”
It sounded like a fine plan to me.
Ground Game
I love hunting spring black bears over bait for the very reason that the action is up close and exciting. A few years ago in Alberta, I had to poke a sow in the face with my rifle barrel when she climbed the tree I was sitting in. That hunt, like most baited bear hunts, was done from an elevated stand, which adds some reassurance because it’s the smaller bears that do most of the climbing.
But Robbins and Casement hunt their spots differently, by building cage-like blinds out of hog panels that are 15 to 20 yards from the bait barrels. The panels are wired to posts and brushed in, and the blinds do a great job at putting hunters into the action at ground level while also creating a barrier between the bears. I sat in one the first evening and lost count of the number of small bears that stuck their noses to the wire to check me out.
There are likely more bears than people in this part of Saskatchewan, and steady baiting keeps them active and visible, but also habituated to people around the baits. While filling barrels with Robbins, it was easy to get complacent of the multiple small bears that would linger within a few feet of us. Several times, I reminded myself that even they were bigger and stronger than German Shepards. Although mature boars are rarely as visible, they become territorial around the baits, huffing and charging at about anything that gets too close. Casement and Robbins are around bears constantly in the spring, and they both carry shotguns and a healthy dose of respect.
The bear that I could see up ahead and through the alders was just a bit small, and so we continued ahead, looking for a good setup. I’d hoped to find a spot where I could wait 50 yards or more back from the bait, chip-shot range for a .308, but far enough away that the bears would hopefully ignore me. But the alders were too thick, and we finally had to settle on a spot just 25 yards from the barrel—and all the while, the feeding bear was working at the bait and watching us. Finally, he huffed and spun into the brush.
“He’ll come right back,” Casement said. “Are you sure you’re OK for me to leave you here alone? I really didn’t want you to sit this close.” I’d nestled myself turkey-hunting style against the trunk of a 10-inch tree, one of the largest around.
“I’ll be OK,” I said. “But if I end up in bear shit, tell my wife I was doing just the type thing she told me not to do.” We laughed, but then a limb snapped on the other side of the bait, and it was time to pay attention. I saw a flash of black and whispered that a bear was coming.
“Two of them,” Casement said, peering through his binoculars. Just as the first bear—likely the one that had been on the bait—neared the barrel, a second one of about the same size charged toward him from the alders. The two bears bristled, huffing and snapping, before settling in on opposite sides of the bait barrel. The second bear slapped the barrel, which was chained to a tree, and then looked at us and began walking our way.
I didn’t plan on shooting the bear unless he forced the issue, but my rifle was shouldered. He stopped at 10 steps, huffed and stomped his front feet. But when we didn’t move, he turned and lumbered back to the barrel. I returned my rifle to safe with shaking hands.
“Sizing us up,” Casement said. “Lots of them will do that. These two will probably leave you alone now. If one comes in that looks a little bigger and pushes them off the bait, he’d be one to think about shooting. Good luck.” Casement stood and backed out slowly, leaving me alone and on foot with the bears.
Related: Welcome to Bear Camp
Too Close for Comfort
The afternoon sunshine was warm and relaxing, and shooting hours wouldn’t end until around 10 p.m. I knew I had a potentially long sit ahead, on high alert. The two bears fed for a while before stopping and looking up the access trail. A third bear appeared from over my right shoulder and walked past me just a few feet away. This one was smaller, and the boar that had huffed at us charged it immediately, running it back into the trees behind me. It appeared again a few minutes later, standing in the access road and staring toward the bait like a kid fresh cut from the team. Suddenly, it darted into the alders again, and the two bears on the bait perked up.
A fourth bear appeared, this one also walking down the access trail but with some swagger, and crossing in front of me at 10 yards. I knew instantly he was the biggest bear I’d seen on the trip, and he immediately charged the bait, scattering the other two bears into the woods like spooked grackles.
I planned to shoot the bear, but I wanted to confirm it was a boar. It had a big head and bad attitude, but plenty of experienced bear hunters have been fooled into shooting sows. I decided to wait to be sure. The bear flopped onto its belly next to the barrel and began eating. One of the other bears stepped out and took a few tepid steps toward the bait, and then the next. Within 15 minutes, all four bears were feeding just 25 yards away, without a stich of cover between them and me. Suddenly the biggest bear looked up hill and seemed to notice me for the first time. It stood up and disappeared into the alders on my left flank, slinking out of sight behind the hill.
I had a steady breeze in my face, and I knew the bear was circling me for a whiff. I tightened my back against my tree, watching for him over my shoulder while also keeping an eye on the three bears still at the bait. Bears can move in near complete silence, and so when a stick broke behind me, I knew it was him—but I hadn’t planned on him being just 10 steps away.
He was sharply uphill of me, and I knew it was time to make myself look big, and to do it fast. I sprang to my feet and side-stepped to keep the tree between myself and the bear. My scope was already on 1 power, and I shouldered it and punched the FireDot reticle button on the side. I held the red dot offhand on the base of the bear’s neck, just above the chest. “That’s where I’m shooting if he charges,” I told myself. “Stay calm. Right in the center of him. Don’t step away from the tree.” I glanced down to check my footing.
“Get the fuck away, bear!” I yelled, gripping the rifle as if it could float out of my hands. “Just kill him. Has to be a boar,” I thought. My breaths were ragged and my thoughts jumbled. “No, don’t get in a hurry. Don’t mess up and kill a sow. He’s just sizing you up.”
The bear suddenly huffed and lunged toward me, but he stopped after a full bound—a bluff charge that put him just 8 yards away. I stepped back from the tree and began tightening the trigger. I remember thinking, I could cover him with bear spray … if I had some.
“I’m going to kill you bear! Get!” I yelled. And then he turned away, almost casually, and walked back over the hillside. I stayed on my feet and kept the gun shouldered, glancing toward the bait at the other three bears that didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by all the shouting and cussing. The larger bear stepped back into the valley, scattering the others as he again reclaimed his seat nearest the barrel. He sat on his rear end and looked up at me again—a move that put his balls on full display. I slowly knelt back down to get a rest on my knees; I wiped sweat from my palms and whispered to myself, “Don’t wound this thing out here alone.”
When he stood and turned broadside, I hit him through both lungs with a 180-grain Nosler Partition. He buckled and scrambled into the alders, and I jumped to my feet again, working the bolt and firing a second shot just as the FireDot crossed black fur. The bear disappeared from sight, but there was a brief, soft moan and then silence, and I knew he was down. I dropped the magazine out of the rifle and topped it with two fresh cartridges before following the short blood trail to my prize. I notched my tag and wrestled him down to the end of the access trail.
The other three bears soon returned to the bait and stared at me as I snuck out around them, through the alders and back to the head of the trail, where I admittedly picked up the pace until I could find some cell phone service. I called Casement with the good news—bear down!—then my wife to explain that, despite my efforts, I’d managed to avoid ending up in bear shit.
Related: 6 Tips for Baiting Bears
Sidebar: Loaded for Bear
A .308 Winchester is ideal for virtually any black bear hunting situation. I’ve killed bears with bigger guns, but they are not particularly difficult to penetrate and shots are generally close, especially over bait. Good bullets in the 150- to 180-grain range will punch through the biggest bruins. The short-action cartridge can be chambered in lightweight, fast-handling rifles, too, which is exactly what you want when a bear is huffing at you in the alders.
My Rifle
Browning AB3 Pro SPR
On this hunt, I was carrying a Browning AB3 Pro SPR , which has an 18-inch barrel that’s threaded for pairing with a suppressor. The AB3 is Browning’s entry-level bolt-action, and the version I was shooting has an MSRP of about $780. It’s a utilitarian rifle but also a Browning, with a noticeable step up in quality over comparably priced bolt-actions. In my experience, plenty of rifles in this price point shoot great groups, but not all of them cycle smoothly or reliably. This one does, and that’s important for bear hunting.
My Scope
Leupold VX-6HD Gen 2 1-6×24
I topped the gun with Leupold’s new VX-6HD Gen 2 1-6×24, which sports SpeedSet Dials, my favorite variation yet of the CDS turret system. Not that you need to dial on a 30-yard black bear, but the new caps make general sight-in adjustments easy because they allow you to remove the caps and turn them back to the zero-stop without tiny hex wrenches. The FireDot reticle is easy to see when the adrenaline’s pumping, and the integrated throw lever allows for rapid magnification adjustments.
My Binocular
Leupold BX-4 Pro Guide HD Gen 2-8×42
Black bears are notoriously difficult to judge, and good binoculars are a must, although you don’t need extreme magnification. On this hunt, I used the Leupold BX-4 Pro Guide HD Gen 2-8×42. It’s nice glass at a nice price, and it allowed me to look bears over until the final minute of legal light. They’re also lightweight and handy, and would be right at home in the whitetail or turkey woods.
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