Hello all--
Well, I went out by myself the other day, a beautiful sunny autumn afternoon in SW Oregon. Normally the monsoons have started by now, but this year has been really different.
I drove out to my favorite clearcut with my 16" Bushmaster VMatch, a bunch of 55 gr. handloads, and a full 30-round mag in the pocket with the 5-round hunting-legal one in the gun.
This open area is just above a small stream and has five or six good-sized logpiles in it that work quite well for breaking up my profile.
I spread out my 'buttmat', propped up my shooting sticks, and commenced calling. I use both a Knight & Hale PS900 and a pair of Primos calls, a "Coyote/Bear Buster" (dying fawn) and a "Raspy Coaxer" (dying bunny w/dying field mouse insert) , and on that day I was blowing the Raspy Coaxer. I chose to use it because I was situated about 100 yards from the nearest creekside tree, and there was a stiff breeze blowing in my face. Which proved to be a problem as you shall see.
I blew my call for about half an hour, off and on, carefully glassing the tree line below for signs of sneaky gray movement, when suddenly I hear this WOOOF!!! from right behind me.
I snapped my head around fast enough to practically give myself whiplash (it still hurts) and found myself face to face with the biggest, ugliest, blackest bear I have ever seen. Its head looked as big as a prize pumpkin from where I sat, let me tell you. He was within 20 feet of me at the time I spotted him...I'm surprised his grunt didn't get slobber on me! :shock:
Well, I jumped up and away from him, simultaneously slapping leather to bring my .357 Ruger out of its small-of-back holster all in what was supposed to be one graceful, flowing explosion of motion.
Well, actually it was more like one big, discombobulated, loud, freaked-out motion that would have probably been hilarious, had anyone been on the scene other than the bear and I. Neither one of US enjoyed our meeting much, that I do know.
Anyways, it worked out okay, because my suave, confident manner had the effect of making that black bear run away fast as 300+ pounds of furry quadruped can go! He angled downhill away from me, towards the raparian treeline, and I didn't need to fire a shot. Of course, now I wish I'd have gotten my bear tag this year....
After the excitement calmed down a bit, I traced his steps back and found that he had WALKED AROUND MY TRUCK TWICE a half-mile away, then followed the road for a bit, and then come right down the hillside, following my tracks to the source of what he apparently felt was a tasty snack, free for the taking. Since I entered my hide by going side-hill, he did too and apparently didn't scent me until he got right behind me.
In a related note, it is possible that I do indeed have nerves of steel and icewater in my veins after all, judging from the fact that, despite yelling like a bull moose with bursitis at the sight of what looked like a 3,000 pound mammoth black Grizzly standing twenty feet away from me, licking its lips, I left not a trace of this surprise in my boxers. :wink:
I am taking my Model 70 .270 Winmchester Coyote hunting from now on, though, thank you very much. And I'm shopping for something with a little more power.
Does anyone here hunt coyotes with a .50 BMG?!
Best regards,
FastVFR
