Here we have a guest blog from Dick Scorzafava, who is known in hunting circles as a black bear and whitetail nut. Dick tells his story about his emotional roller coaster ride in the north country chasing monster black bears. His story truly hits home and will make you want to grab your bow and head north.

I’ve been chasing big bears around North America for most of my life and have had the very good fortune to put my tag on a few big bruisers over the years. The mission on this northern adventure was to harvest a true monster bear for my dad. He had been failing for the last few months and I was going to cancel this trip. But he knew how excited I was about hunting this new spot, and told me to go and kill him a big bear. This area hadn’t been bear hunted for the last several years, and they had been baiting it for the last two years establishing the baits.

It is this type of location that true trophy bear hunters dream about, it’s isolated and almost untouched by humans. Spring in Northern Manitoba is when the bears emerge from hibernation, and the birds return from their southern journey. The forests explode with life as the countryside seems to come alive. It’s the perfect time for nature lovers, and fisherman, and of course radical bear hunters to be in the outdoors.

I arrived at my final destination in a single-engine Beaver with floats. Golden Eagle Lodge is located on Sickle Lake, which is approximately 40 air miles from the Town of Lynn Lake.  Golden Eagle is one of those places that make up the final frontier of Canadian bear hunting. Lodge manager Jason Dyck greeted us as we exited the float plane.  The main lodge overlooks beautiful, unspoiled Sickle Lake. That made me want to grab my flyrod and wet a fly right away. Jason and I seemed to hit it off right from the start, swapping bear stories we had experienced. He reminded me of myself when I was young: all business and really dedicated to producing results for the clients. Golden Eagle runs a small operation that prides themselves on quality rather than quantity when it comes to bear hunting and fishing. They have a vast amount of land to hunt but only take a few hunters every year to insure that the quality trophy bears are taken every spring. As a matter of fact, I was only the second and last hunter for the year. The first hunter was a woman bowhunter who passed on several animals before killing a bear that almost stretched the tape to seven feet nose-to-tail on her third day.

Jason suggested I stay at the Keewatin Point Outpost Camp which is near the mouth of the Keewatin River because it would save transportation time back and forth as the lodge was at the extreme other end of the lake. He had a number of established baits in the area and there was a real monster coming into one of them from the sign he was seeing every few days.

Every one of the six baits we examined had been hit. But there were two baits we both really liked. Both of them were in tight dark locations less than 200 yards from the lake’s edge. I had a very optimistic feeling about these baits. They just looked like big bear spots. Places were the bears would feel comfortable moving in and out during daylight hours.

To the inexperienced, hunting spring black bear over bait might not appear esthetically gratifying or fair, but believe me it is a tremendous experience. Any bear that is baited is not a pushover. This is especially true of the trophy bruins over seven years old. They hit baits infrequently and many times it’s well after legal hunting hours are past. Big guys always circle a bait checking the wind and ease in with all their senses revved to the limit. These big old boars are anything but simple to get a shot at.

The first three evenings on stand were still and very quite with no activity. As I sat on stand my mind kept reflecting back to the past fishing and hunting trips with my dad. Several times I had to hold tears back because I realized he wouldn’t be with me much longer, and I was having difficulty dealing with that fact. He is a special person and I love him dearly. I also started to realize this was day three and I hadn’t seen any movement at the baits. Jason had told me this evening on the way into the bait that all the other baits had not been hit either for the last three days. Something was wrong.

We discussed the situation on the way back to camp and decided to put a couple digital scouting cameras on each of the two baits that night. We also agreed that the bears must be feeding on some natural food source that was available and that was the reason they were not needing to visit the baits. So we decided to hang a new beaver carcass high in the air at the baits, hoping they would wind the odor and come into the baits again.

The next evening as I sat in stand waiting for something to happen I kept thinking about my dad and how much I wanted to please him on his request to me to kill him a big bear. When suddenly I heard something behind my stand and very slowly turned my head catching a glimpse of the pumpkin sized head of the monster slowly circling behind the bait. He never came into the bait and I only had about twenty minutes remaining of shooting light. On the trail to the left of the bait I caught more movement out of the corner of my eye.

It was a large black timber wolf sneaking into the opening of the bait area. As he entered he looked around, stopped, and looked directly at me in the stand and stared at me with his bluish green eyes. It gave me a real eerie feeling as though he was looking right through me. Then he suddenly walked past the bait opening and disappeared behind the bait. By now shooting light was over and I had to descend my stand soon to meet Jason at the pick up point. But I was wondering in my mind where the wolf had gone in the darkness of the night behind the bait.

After a successful day of pike fishing the next day, it was time to pick up and get moving as daylight was fading quickly on the lake. On the way back as we came around a point not far from the bait, a black blob appeared in the lake about 200 yards to my left. I pointed it out to Jason. We decided to go take a look. As we approached with the boat we were surprised, it was a mature bear swimming across the lake from the back side of the bait. We pulled in front of him with the boat and noticed his head was cut up and bloody. He also had no intension of turning back in the direction from which he had come. He was swimming across that lake and he didn’t care what was in front of him!

I have come across many animal swimming lakes or rivers over my years and every time you go in front of them with the boat they turn back in the direction they came because they feel it’s safer. We figured that this guy just had his butt kicked by the monster boar and was not going back for more. He was getting out of the big bear’s way no matter what. The big old bear must have been laid up close to the bait when this guy came in and all hell broke lose. Many times an old boar will take possession of a food source and will chase anything away that comes into his space. This made my day because it told us he was back, and maybe we would finally get to see him up close and personal on my last day.

Jason and I discussed a plan for the last evening’s hunt on the way to the bait from camp. We would go in a few hours earlier than we had been hunting, and I would quickly get settled in the stand while Jason quietly baited the two barrels. Then he would softly tap the barrels with a stick to give the elusion of something feeding at the bait. He would then rush to the boat and exit the area. He would also leave an orange vest next to the shore of the pick up point and if I did get a shot I was to hang the vest and he would come back from the other side of the lake where he planned to fish while I sat.

Everything went as planned and Jason gave me the “thumbs up” before exiting to the boat. It was extremely quiet and I could hear him get in the boat, start the motor and speed across the lake. Now the wait began. I looked into the crystal clear sky and prayed for God’s help on this the last night of my hunt.  I grabbed up my bow and nocked an arrow.

I had been sitting motionless in my treestand for just under an hour waiting patiently for Old Big Foot, as I had named him, to show at the bait. Then it happened. From the corner of my eye I sensed some type of movement. Ever so slowly I turned my head and there he stood just behind my stand on my right, appearing like a phantom out of thin air. I gulped…and then relaxed.

He looked bigger than a Volkswagen when he stepped forward from behind my stand at approximately 20 yards. His head was enormous, very wide with bulging mounds on both sides and with a deep crease down the top. The ears looked really small, he was exceptionally long in length, and his belly hung low. He had an extremely thick dense shiny coat, so thick you could see it split when he moved. I could actually see it glistening in the setting sun. His body was frozen in place as he swiveled his heavy head, sniffing the air. Then suddenly he shuffled slowly and cautiously moving closer to the bait and into my bow range as I coaxed him in my mind. “Only about five more steps big boy, come on now, keep coming,” I thought as he moved closer. My fingers curled tighter around my release.

I could tell by his body language he had no clue I was waiting in ambush. If these big old boars sense something is wrong or slightly wind your human scent they will not come into the bait until well after dark, if at all.  I have seen this happen so many times over the years. A black bear has a much better sense of smell than even a whitetail deer and most hunters do not realize that and it affects their overall success on their hunt for a mature bear. To overcome this I had done all the normal precautions of showering and spraying my equipment with Scent Killer spray. I was wearing Scent-Lok BaseSlayers under my Scent-Lok Full Season jacket and pants, plus I was wearing Scent-Lok’s head cover and gloves. I wanted my scent to be as under control as possible. Actually Scent-Lok technology has made me a better hunter because it has allowed me to get closer to game regardless of wind direction. I like to call it up close and personal.

He passed in front of the two barrels and they completely disappeared. I sucked in a deep breath. Suddenly in just an instant he was in a quartering away position with his huge front leg stretched out presenting what I had been waiting for, the perfect shot opportunity. Now it was up to me. I slowly drew my bow to full draw, anchored, put my pin on the spot and sent my arrow sizzling through the air. Almost instantly I heard the impact of the hit and watched the orange vanes vanish. He literally dropped in his tracks piling up in a big heap. The broadhead had severed his spinal cord, and skewered both heart and lungs for an instant kill.

I shot up on the platform of my stand, raised my arms in the air, and screamed a victorious “YES! Thank you, dear Lord. Dad, this was for you!” Then I sat down, waited for my thundering pulse to return to normal and thought of how I got to this point in this, the land of giants. Encountering this gargantuan bear did not happen by chance. As I glanced down and marveled at the bear’s size from my perch I was thinking of what I have stressed to the many people that attend my seminars each year at the sportsman shows.

I learned a long time ago that if you want to kill big bears you have to hunt where big bears exist, those places are getting more difficult to locate. Not all areas are created equal when it comes to big game animals, especially record book class black bears and a study of the Pope and Young or Boone and Crockett record books will confirm that fact. I truly believe it’s harder to kill a big black bear that will qualify for record book entry today than it is to kill a big whitetail deer.

It’s getting much harder even in the really remote locations of North America to find a truly big black bear of trophy class. But the real key to growing big bears is age. Boars that exceed 500 pounds are between 7 to 15 years old. That is why I chose this remote location of Manitoba it was virtually the end of the road in the northwestern section of that Canadian province on the edge of the Boreal Forest. The bears in this vast country are pretty much unhunted, they receive very little pressure at all. Certainly the big black bears that I target are extraordinary for their size. They rival and even exceed a grizzly bear in stature.
Jason and I spent many minutes admiring the size and beauty of this behemoth of a bear, everything from his battle scarred head to his thick fur and gigantic front pads that measured over 7 inches across. His hide measured 7 feet 8 inches nose-to-tail. We estimated from measurements he was between 550-600 pounds, that’s huge for a spring bear. The skull green scored a whopping 22 2/16 inches and he had a neck measurement of 33 inches. From the wear on his teeth we guessed he was at least 15 years old. He is my finest black bear ever, and dedicated to my dad. Just knowing he has more kin in the area will be enough to bring me back to the land of giants in search of another Bigfoot.

Note: I called my dad as soon as I arrived in Winnipeg on June 12, to tell him the whole story of the monster bear I had killed for him. He was happy and told me he was proud of me and loved me, but I could tell from his voice he was failing even more since I had begun the trip. My dad passed away on June 13, about two hours after I got home from this trip. I think he was waiting to say his good-byes. I love you Dad, you are in my heart and thought,even though we can’t be together for now.

For more stories and articles by Dick Scorzafava check out his book The Radical Bowhunter.

GET CLOSE, GO UNDETECTED!

Alex Gyllstrom
Scent-Lok Technologies