Mountain Goat
Handloader
- Dec 14, 2010
- 386
- 11
I only hunted two mornings and did not see a legal buck. No matter, for I had the high mountain timber virtually to myself. It's quite strange only hearing one other vehicle driving on the roads and just a handfull of rifle shots off in the distance. My time is generally spent bow hunting.
It has been a severe drought here in Southern Oregon, until lately anyway, and the forest floor sounded more like walking on corn flakes while splitting kindling for the fire. Never the less, I did manage to walk right up on a sow black bear with three cubs. They crossed in a small opening just 50-60yds away, completely unaware of my presence, which was a good thing! Momma had her hands full with this three, as I instantly named them Larry, Moe and Curly. There was always at least one cub creating some sort of rukus, climbing a tree, or just plain screwing off. They were very entertaining to watch, and I enjoyed this experience as much or more than shooting a buck. I am quite thankful that the cubs were close to momma, for I had a valid bear tag and the crosshairs on her. One pull of the trigger would have taken that experience 180 degrees instantly. It was still a very successful hunt and took in some of God's wonders that only I had the priviledge to witness.
There's so much more to hunting than the taking of an animal. So many things lead up to that moment, many times for years on end. I will visit that spot regularly, morel mushrooms in the spring, huckleberries in late summer, and deer hunting following that. Larry, Moe and Curly will always be a part of that place, at least in my mind. And that is why I hunt!
It has been a severe drought here in Southern Oregon, until lately anyway, and the forest floor sounded more like walking on corn flakes while splitting kindling for the fire. Never the less, I did manage to walk right up on a sow black bear with three cubs. They crossed in a small opening just 50-60yds away, completely unaware of my presence, which was a good thing! Momma had her hands full with this three, as I instantly named them Larry, Moe and Curly. There was always at least one cub creating some sort of rukus, climbing a tree, or just plain screwing off. They were very entertaining to watch, and I enjoyed this experience as much or more than shooting a buck. I am quite thankful that the cubs were close to momma, for I had a valid bear tag and the crosshairs on her. One pull of the trigger would have taken that experience 180 degrees instantly. It was still a very successful hunt and took in some of God's wonders that only I had the priviledge to witness.
There's so much more to hunting than the taking of an animal. So many things lead up to that moment, many times for years on end. I will visit that spot regularly, morel mushrooms in the spring, huckleberries in late summer, and deer hunting following that. Larry, Moe and Curly will always be a part of that place, at least in my mind. And that is why I hunt!
