kidso

Anyone else going out next weekend for the EARLY OTC spring bear hunt? A nice chance to do some shed hunting while keeping any eye out for fresh bear sign post-hibernation.

Sounds like you have a pretty good opportunity there to fill your OTC tag. Is the bear hitting the water around the same time frame when he does make his visits? Or are his times all over the place?

He used the "Mighty Atom" electronic caller.

I like the color phase on that guy. I love how you have cut out the bear to avoid showing the fence that surrounds him at the Phoenix Zoo! Are you planning on a tree stand or ground blind? How far away are you planning to put it from the water source?

Details buddy! Did you call him in, spot and stalk, or sit water? How far were you shooting? What color phase was he? What time of day did you meet him? Thanks!

Buddy of mine was out Thursday and Friday calling and glassing in 23. No response and no new spring sign spotted yet. It should start picking up in two weeks after the OTC hunt closes.

I heard 109,with all but 3 of them being called in electronically. The man knew his stuff! It was a great seminar.

Darren, Is that an animal skull that all the critters are checking out?

I was so excited, I went yesterday to the seminar....only one week too early!!! Hyperwrx you posted the notice too soon!

Reed Peterson was "the one" for me, so this will be the "two."

First choice selected, unit 9 cow tag, October rifle hunt!

I had my first choice picked, the Unit 9 October cow hunt!

Leaving tomorrow for three days. Will be calling for lion tomorrow and checking trail cams I set back in October. Hopefully they are still there and have survived the winter! Calling for bear on Friday and Saturday. Will report back when home. I kind of doubt the bears will be out, but it should be fun to preview the area before the archery draw bear hunt opens. RETURNED from the field. Glassed miles of bear country and checked water holes and trail cams, but no scat, tracks, pictures, or any other sign of bears that have left their spring hibernation locations. I'm sure a few boars must be out there, but I came across no fresh sign. Oh well, it great exercise and beautiful views!

thanks kieth!! i just sent scotty the part of the hide that was needed to do the shoulder mnt and had a buddie of mine tan the rest for me... not to sure what im going todo with the rest of the hide yet but im sure all think of something cool... Cody, what measurements did your skull ultimately score? And did you ever measure the length of your bear?

Here is my bear rug from the recent spring archery hunt, and my twin girls, of course!

Thanks everyone. Its been a busy four months raising the twins, which has kept me out of the field, but that is life in the family. It will come back my direction two-fold as they get older! However, I am gearing up for the spring bear season. The good wife is giving the green light on that hunt. I can't wait to get out and have two trail cams to pull from last fall. Hopefully I'll have some nice bears on film to stalk.

Very nice Cody. I like the length of the shoulder mount, it gives it more character than a shorter head mount. On a mount like that, do they tan the entire hide, or just the portion of the cape that is utilized for the mount?

Usually after the spring OTC bear hunt.

I also shot my coati while javelina hunting. Ally's Taxidermy $360 last year.

Nice bears! Were all of them Arizona bears? I'd like to hear more about the bear shot at 8 feet. Did you call him in, or did you hit him over a water hole? The 70's photo is nostalgic.

Jet black...nice!

Sitting water that you have scouted out to have bear activity is a great bet to hedge...if you have the patience. I tried it and became bored out of my mind and started hitting the call again, my favorite mode of bear hunting.

My First Lion It was September 15, 2003, a day that I will long cherish as a favored memory. Not only was it the day that I tagged my first lion, but it was also the day that prompted a chain of events that led up to my wonderful marriage with my eternal Sweetheart. What started it all, you might ask? My passion for calling in Arizona bears with hand-held predator calls. A day earlier, I drove into the Sierra Anchas Mountains in my trusty aging metallic blue Chevy Astro van. Yes, I lacked a true four-wheel drive vehicle, but Old Bluey was built upon a truck chassis, so I felt somewhat secure in my adventure. With careful negotiating, I drove her in as far as I dared on the rugged two-track without losing an axle and pulled over into a small clearing just big enough to clear the roadway. I knew I had to hike in nearly eight additional miles to make it to the spot where I had glassed a black bear feeding in the prickly pear cactus one week earlier. Without skipping a beat, I donned my backpack, slung my beat-up Savage 30-.06 over my shoulder, and scurried further along the now washed-out two-track with anticipation flowing through my veins. Just as I rounded the bend in front of me, however, my heart rate plummeted, as I saw three individuals loading hunting gear on the front of their quads. As I approached them, with no intention of stopping, one of them asked me if I was out looking for bear. I politely responded that I was and wished them luck in their own hunting endeavors. As I tried to hustle on by, another competitor asked me if I wanted a ride. Instantly, I froze in my tracks. Now, that particular question --in itself-- was innocent enough. But, any acceptance of that offer would ultimately reveal the location of my secret hotspot…and that --in itself-- would border upon second-degree self-stupidity! Thus, I kindly declined and stated that I really didn’t have far to go and continued on my way. Within five minutes, the small caravan of brothers passed me at a moderate speed and baptized me in a cloud of swirling dust. Several hours and liters of water later, I rounded the final bend in the road to my secret hotspot and nearly did have a heat attack as I spotted all three of the good Samaritans propped up on the rocks, my rocks, glassing across the canyon to the prickly pear ridges stretching along the expanse. Being good sports, none of them asked me again how far in I was planning to hike and I quietly ate a piece of humble pie while climbing up on the rocks beside them. In retrospect, I think I actually devoured and nearly choked on the entire dessert over that one! After glassing the terrain with my new-found friends for nearly an hour, our conversation shifted to the discussion of what each individual thought we should do to maximize the upcoming evening hunting period. Each of the Samaritans suggested heading off to different areas to glass, while I proffered the idea that I would just stay put and attempt to call in a bear from one of the many canyons that fed into the area that we were glassing. The Brothers Three nearly laughed me off the rocks and had absolutely no faith in the idea that black bears could be called in with a rabbit-in-distress vocalization. Two of the brothers continued to ridicule me as they rode off on their quads in opposite directions from our location, while the third sat quietly, patiently waiting for his comrades to disappear. He then broke the silence by asking if I was serious about calling a bear in, and if calling for bears really does work. I simply smiled and replied that it would…as long as lady luck was with us! About an hour later, we took up positions on our rock outcropping and I began to wail away on my hand-held Tally-Ho. I squealed and squelched on that red, open-reed tantalizer with everything I had, and at about the forty minute mark…“BEAR!” “BEAR!” again repeated the lone gunman who remained with me while hastily pointing towards a ridge about 600 yards to our right. I continued to blast away and focused my eyes that direction and easily spotted the large chocolate bear coming down off the ridge towards us. He actually angled downwards and slunked onto the two-track I had hiked in on earlier that day. At that point, I began witnessing one of the most incredible sights I have ever observed. I paused in my calling and watched the boar reduce his speedy gait to a slow uninterested walk. However, when I began calling again, he immediately proceeded to swing his head side to side with an out-hanging tongue and quickly increased his pace to a steady lope. I was so intrigued by the bear’s response that I tried stopping and restarting my calling several times. Each time I did, Mr. Chocolate responded in tandem with changes in his own speed and interest. I was playing him like a fiddle! It was then that reality set in as we realized that Brother Number Two was also on the two-track, sitting on his quad and glassing off into another canyon completely oblivious of the mammalian threat that was quickly approaching him! We starting yelling at him and began jumping up and down waving our arms in an attempt to grab his attention...but alas, our efforts remained fruitless. The bear kept advancing along a transect that placed Number Two between the two of us, thus forfeiting any shot that we could safely take. Mr. Chocolate came to within 20 feet of the unsuspecting hunter before realizing that he just wasn’t hungry enough to try to pass the mass of machinery that was blocking his advance, so he angled upwards and disappeared among the ridges above us. Within five minutes, we were at Number Two’s side showing him the bear tracks in the dirt that nearly signaled his premature demise. Although he was more than shocked, Number Two began to transition into a true believer. For he too, like his brother, was now buying into the idea that a bear will respond to a human-induced predatory symphony. Well, we all regrouped within 10 minutes at the rock outcropping, due to the fading sunlight, and planned possible scenarios for calling in the bear at first light. Unfortunately, the Brothers Three were under the belief that the bear would continue uphill along the ridge and that we should make a stand along the back side of that ridge. I, however, felt impressed to believe that the bear would double back along the ridge and return to lower elevations on our current side. Thus, we had reached an impasse, and I as the caller refused to yield to their belief. We parted ways respectfully, after I gladly accepted their offer for a ride back to Old Bluey, fully knowing that we would be on opposite sides of the mountain in the morning. I could hardly sleep that night, anticipating the early hike to an area along the ridge where I felt that Mr. Chocolate might be bedded down. At 3:00 am, my wrist watch cried out way too early for my aching body, but my mind was sharp and eager to get the day started. I hiked out slowly and quietly, enjoying the unseasonably warm air for that time of year and made my way to the general area where I wanted to execute my first stand. Because I carried no flashlight, I was a little unsure of my exact location, but I knew I was close enough to do some damage. Thus, I settled into a thicket of juniper bushes and propped my back against one of their thick trunks and waited for the welcoming dawn. When daylight first began peeking over the hills before me, I met it head on with a chorus of screams. At 22 minutes into the chorale, a dusky tan colored creature materialized without any warning just 15 feet in front of me. Due to the perfect alignment of its body, all I could was its face, with eyes staring directly at me. In a matter of microseconds, my life flashed before me as I simultaneously raised my ought-six to my shoulder and saw my reflection in the eyes of the lion morphing into steaming hotdogs. That’s when my rifle fired and everything went blank. It went blank because I must have blinked or momentarily closed my eyes when I instinctively squoze the trigger. When I opened my eyes, the wild feline was gone without a trace. I sat there shaking in my boots due to a mixture of adrenaline, shock, and fear. Reality returned after a brief moment and I ejected the spent round and chambered another 180 grain bruiser. I walked over to where the lion had sat facing me and searched the ground for any sign of blood. At the 20 foot mark, I spotted a strange sight --large golf-ball sized chunks of reddish material lying on the ground with a composite volume of about two cups. Strangely, however, there was not a single drop of blood mixed in with the organic goulash. After closer examination, I believed the material to be slightly digested prickly pear fruits, which was even stranger, as lions are strictly carnivores and wouldn’t touch a cactus pear with a four-foot tail! A feeling of despair soon set in and my heart began to hurt as I assumed that my shot had not actually hit the lion, but struck the ground near it, causing the cougar to vomit out its stomach contents as it leapt away in fear. Dejectedly, I donned my daypack and started hiking away from my stand when that little voice deep inside me whispered to go back and look around a little bit longer. After all, it was a lion that I had shot at, not some small fox or coyote. Thus, I returned to the spot of organic mush and started circling in ever-widening patterns, when much to my astonishment, I found a single drop of blood about 70 yards away on a small stone. At that point I dropped to my belly and scrutinized the ground intently, looking for any sign that my lion had passed through that direction. Sure enough, I was able to find a bent blade of grass, a moved pebble, and a scratch in the soil. So I continued onwards on my hands and knees for the next two-hours, literally crawling along a low-lying ridge following the sign that I was finding, which still had not yielded another drop of blood. The escape trail was leading me under the low-hanging limbs of yet another widespread juniper, so I dropped all the way down on my belly and slithered like a snake to stay directly on the sign when I heard a loud HISS a few feet away from me. I instantly recoiled and lifted my head upwards and banged it on the tree limbs when another HISS sounded out. I froze and turned my head sideways to see the lion about six feet away from me on the opposite side of the same juniper! It was lying on its side with its jaws agape and its eyes fixated on me. It was then that I noticed its insides hanging out of its belly. I was petrified and exhilarated all at once, but was unable to raise my rifle in the tight space in which I was confined. Thus, I reached to my side and retrieved my .38 special from its holster and sent one round flying into the chest of the beast. It may have moved a few inches with the ballistic impact, but the lion never made it out from under the tree. It expired before my eyes! My first thought was, “Boy am I glad that I listened to my inner voice and came back to investigate the stand one more time!” My second thought was, “If I had only bagged that bear last night, I could have tagged both species back to back!” And my third and final thought was, “It’s getting warm and I need to gut this cat quickly and start the long hike back to my Astro!” Well, to wrap the story up, I made it back to Old Bluey with the lion on my back, skinned her out, and boned the meat. I determined that my initial 180-grain bullet entered the cat in its front chest beneath the rib cage and opened her up like a zipper before exiting near the bottom of her belly. I think the red cactus pieces were actually liver chunks or parts of some other organ that the bullet dissected along its lateral trajectory. And what does any of this have to do with my beautiful wife and marriage? Well, at this point in my life, I was interested in seriously pursuing one of three women in the dating world. So I contacted all three of them with the information that I had just tagged a lion and asked if they would be interested in seeing any pictures of it. Well, bachelorette number one responded with the rage of a tsunami and blasphemed me for taking the life of a poor little helpless animal. Bachelorette number two refused to talk with me any more after that fateful day. And bachelorette number three stated that she wouldn’t mind viewing the photographs, as long as they weren’t too bloody. So, can you guess which one became the Mrs. and wears a matching wedding band with engraved mountain lions?

I guess you won't have to put up with that pesky bear next year! Good job! What day and time did you harvest him?

Weight is probably the toughest thing to assess on a bear, as it can only be done if you have perfect access to the bear and can get him to a scale, which is a joke, as one would want to gut and skin it before any kind of transport. That being stated, Al LeCount our infamous state bear biologist for years had a paper published that showed a strong correlation between the circumference of a bear around its chest and its body weight (not sure if it was his own work or if he borrowed that tool from someone else). Thus, one can get a decent weight estimate if you measure the bear's chest circumference in the field with a tape before gutting and skinning it. Using "weight" as a tool, a good bear is arguably one over 250. A big bear might go 300. A great bear could be 350 plus. Anything over 400 is likely a trophy beast. I've tagged three bears and had a tape in my pack each time, but never measured a single bear due to the excitement and the rush to get it gutted and skinned.