Our Last Day of Scouting

In a blink the scouting period has come to an end and James and I are making our final preparations for the season. No one knows what the coming weeks will have in store for us but we are optimistic and, with the weather in our favor, the anticipation couldn’t be higher. As usual, both work and life have gotten in the way of James and me getting out into the woods, however, with the arrival of April and several hunting seasons upon us, getting out in the woods has become a necessity.

This past weekend began with the sun heating up eastern Oregon and, in honor of Easter, we decided that the only logical thing to do was, well, scout for bear. The weather was ripe, the mountain snow was melting, and this weekend, being our last before the season, there was only one choice. Today, we were hoping for something tangible, some point of reference, and hopefully some bear sign to go off of. The realization that we will soon be spending our weekends chasing black bears is beyond exciting.

We started out our day by entering the Starkey Unit, once again, from the north. Within a few hours we had found several areas that looked promising but with limited visibility through the thick woods we realized that we would practically have to bump into an animal to have any chance; definitely not a way to make a living. After a short discussion we concluded that finding an area where we could glass vast, open forest ground would exponentially increase our odds of at least seeing a bear, which, in the end, is really half the battle. And so, we began driving two tracks and off-shoot roads to see what we could find.

We were able to get out and head off on foot for a short while but the results were no different. Any spot that looked good for bears was more often than not, exactly that, a spot. An area where sure, if you set up a tree-stand every day during season you might have a bear walk into that watering hole, but sitting still is something neither of us fancy too much. However, we do realize that this season will take some patience, slowly glassing hillsides from east to west and then going back over them again. It will take determination, especially with the abundance of burnt tree stump and logs throughout the area. I have to admit that by the end of this day I was almost willing such inanimate objects to sway back and forth. Alas, it was only my mind playing tricks on me and before I knew it I was back to reality.

We decided to head back north and see if there were some other roads that might get us up high and then, just as it happened the last time I was out, a large herd of elk was high up on a hillside, out in the open, for all to see. As James quickly hit the brakes and attempted to put us out of harm’s way, we began to look over the herd but quickly realized they were too high up to see clearly. So, with only the faintest pause, we agreed we needed to be up there. “Well”, I thought, “here we go again”, and after finding a small turn-out the two of us were on our way.

Unlike the last time I had been out these elk were much higher up, out in a clearing that no doubt provided them with forage and visibility. We had a pretty clear idea of where they were but our main goal was simply to start gaining elevation and try to get around on them. With reference to the uncontrollable elements, the wind wasn’t with completely against us but it wasn’t ideal either. As always, we just had to make the best with what we had.

Ahead of catching sight of the herd it wasn’t long before the both of us realized that we had gotten into something great. As we moved up the hillside and gained elevation we started to notice that this area provided a glassing point for a large portion of the forest and not only that across the road but also the ground directly around us. It was quickly becoming clear that, from these vantage points, if there were any bears in this area it would be hard to stay hidden from us forever. Our last day of scouting was now proving more valuable than ever.

What we did know with some certainty was that if we could remain slightly to the north of the herd we’d have the best chance to sneak in on them. Sitting just below a hillock we debated how much farther it was and then, with a little more stair-stepping and eyes forward James turned and motioned to me, they were just up ahead. Ah, the excitement! In a display that all hunters are familiar with, fingers, hands, arms, and eyes were all used to communicate what was up ahead. You know, I’ve never thought about picking up sign language but wouldn’t that we a worthwhile skill? Ha, but I suppose the ballet of motion is decipherable enough and with a clear understanding that James could see elk I lifted my head, stretched my legs and saw their rear ends, less than 100 yards.

With James moving up, crawling on his knees to an uphill tree I took off my belt, looped it around Farley’s collar and began crawling up myself. It was at this point that I got the look from Farley that said, “What the hell are we doing?”, but I knew if the little dog saw the elk he would inevitably begin to whine and the jig would be up. So I kept his head down, dragged him along, and we made it up with James, 50 yards. A few cows were bedded down just above us and with every glance a new brown shape would appear. They were clearly unaware of our presence and at this juncture I began to reflect on what it must feel like to get slightly closer and draw back your bow on one of these animals. It must be an unbelievable feeling…it gets your adrenaline going just thinking about it.

With a few laughs and some planning, we decided to try and get as close as possible. We slowly backed down the hill to move out of sight and on our chests, crawled along the slope. Again, with hands acting as our only form of communication we made our way about half way to the next set of trees when the crack and rustle of grass below James had several cows quickly on their feet looking downhill. At this point, I was pretty sure that both James and I were low enough to the ground to perhaps be overlooked but the dog, with his ridiculous belt leash, sitting straight up, was without a doubt, the focus of many eyes. But the herd didn’t run, they simply got up and walked away. We quickly tried to get up on the saddle but in the blink of an eye the herd had moved down across the next drainage and was continuing on to the adjacent ridge. Alas, we had been caught, but to be where we were, looking at elk that close, was once again, awe inspiring and a complete thrill. I can’t wait until August.

With the elk moving away James and I both turned to view an incredible landscape and while the snow capped mountains in the distance were amazing, it was the view and ground right in front of us that had us excited. We had finally found a spot where we could glass hundreds of acres. This was what we had been looking for. This was what we needed for bear. We had a place to start, which as of that point, had still been up for debate. We could see country, move quickly along the ridges, and had finally found some spring green-up. The feeling was great. The season had an official trial run.

With smiles on our faces we trekked down the hill, glassed a few more times, and arrived back at the truck. We have less than a week until the season now. We have both agreed to put in a turkey hunt on opening day but after that, the game is on, and we head to the woods in search of one of North America’s most iconic animals, the American black bear.