Bear Pit Thread About Bears.

Unless they've been on a steady diet of berries, I always heard bear meat is disgusting and on the non edible list with big wild boar hogs, especially if they've been on a steady fish diet.

I've handled enough nasty hogs, I take their word for it.

Friends in AK say the same about fish bears (coastals) or bears who get into trash.
Wild bears are good eating
Had it twice with friends who shot them and both times delicious and always get a tag here in CO when elk hunting.

Likely gonna push harder for a bear or 3 in the next bit for meat and fur

Also have heard loads of people say antelope isnt good.
I say its delicious.
🤷‍♂️
 
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Bear is delish. It seems that a lot of city people cannot stomach something that’s different. Farm beef tasted different then store bought. And I’ve seen a lot of people disparage farmers for it. Just my 2 cents on that. As far as that picture look at belly size length of legs and how big or small the ears look. If legs appear long and ears look big in relation to his head he’s small/young. If legs are short and ears look small it’s probably an older/bigger bear. Now if he is showing traits of a large bear with a big rump and a waddle mixing where ever he pleases with out fear it’s probably a giant. There’s more indicators to take into account but that’s 90% of it there
 
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The problem some people have is the thought of eating carnivores or even omnivores.

I've known hispanics that when you offer to give them a feral hog they ask if it ate meat. When I said they eat everything, they just shake their heads in disgust.

I don't know if it's a religous thing or just that a meat eaters meat tastes different than that of a pure herbivore's. I'm more inclined to put bear in the wolf, coyote category and pass on it.
 
Never had or thought to have had dog. So analytically maybe they are similar but I’d bet not…. Any one ever eat a coyote? Wonder what parasites/diseases may come from eating a dog.

Ps- I’d like to add that I go deep when ever I’m hunting anything. I get grumpy when I see another person while out I’m the mt’s. I go to restart and get back to basics. Camp is usually 10 miles from a rd (give or take) and from camp I’ll satellite out another 3-5 miles. The odds that my bears are eating trash is low. Lots of berries and grass. I’m sure there is some fish and some carrion, so take this into consideration when I speak of a bear being “yummy”
 
Friends in AK say the same about fish bears (coastals) or bears who get into trash.
Wild bears are good eating
Had it twice with friends who shot them and both times delicious and always get a tag here in CO when elk hunting.

Likely gonna push harder for a bear or 3 in the next bit for meat and fur

Also have heard loads of people say antelope isnt good.
I say its delicious.
🤷‍♂️

Antelope isn't good if you hunt it Silverado style.
Otherwise, it's delicious.
 
Bear on bear creek rd in Montana.
Handed my phone to my daughter, jumped out and said take my picture. Lol


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I just got back from Alaska Tuesday, spent some time on the Keni fishing , no bears ,too Damm many people , fucking tourists, oh wait nevermind . But seriously I've never seen so many people ,you'd have to do a high dollar fly-in fishing trip to get away from the crowds, I'm going to look into one for my next trip , did manage to catch a few rainbows, dolly vardens and a couple of salmon, and got to visit with friends I hadn't seen in years .
 

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My neighbor (and bff😳) is a big time fisher. I’m a big time hunter. Last year I took him out for muleies and bear (his first time hunting) now he’s planning a fishing trip to take me on( I don’t fish I think it’s boring). Apparently he’s got some trip in the works that’ll have the fish kicking my ass.
 
My neighbor (and bff😳) is a big time fisher. I’m a big time hunter. Last year I took him out for muleies and bear (his first time hunting) now he’s planning a fishing trip to take me on( I don’t fish I think it’s boring). Apparently he’s got some trip in the works that’ll have the fish kicking my ass.

Does he do saltwater fishing? Bluefin up in Cap Cod would be one fish I could see kicking someone’s ass. At 100”+ and several hundred pounds they are pound for pound probably the hardest fighting fish you can chase.
 
I think we are doing a steelhead trip. (Not sure) but I know he threw it out there. I told him I have no idea or reference. I said I want to work hard and be rewarded for hard work. I hate. Being board.
 
And lest you clowns think I can’t make fun of my beloved, this pic is from the last game of ‘06 when we already had the top playoff seed locked up. Rex admitted he didn’t prepare as well as he should have and took a pounding during an absolutely awful performance

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Bears are assholes. I have to spike my deer feeders down with T-posts and chain the lids to keep them from getting turned over or the lids pushed off. I have one young male, about 200 lbs, who tries to turn over and tests the lid at least once a week.
 
I got bear stories.
a friend, who was newly contracted to provide medical services for the Tanana Chiefs, in Alaska, left home with huis sone to go bear hunting, somewhere about 50 miles from Tok Junction. He hunted all day, and came in late that evening, skunked, didn’t see a thing.
When he got home his wife was mad as hell. Seems about two hours after he left, while it was still dark, thee bears broke into the storm porch, and broke into the freezer. She shot all of them , a s one was boarding the freezer, so the other two came through the kitchen door. Well, part way. This was before cell phones, and she was mad, because she could only find another woman nearby to help her drag the animals outside and gut them. More later.
 
Young friend who was in Tiger Force (Afghanistan) is now a recruiter in Montana (asa former member I still support the active duty team). He went elk hunting, and split up with his friends, going down a trail, downhill. They had a thick patch of trees that split them, so he stayed on the trail, and his buddies, went around the copse of woods. As he got past it, and was looking around for his pals, two largish brown bear cubs, at least yearlings, burst from the brush, followed by a big ass momma bear. The momma stopped and squared, while the young uns caught up with him, and tumbled him head over heels. They kept biting at his legs and arms and butt and kept tumbling him downhill while he shouted for his pals.
They finally appeared, took in the sight, and blasted one of the cubs. The other broke off and headed to the mother, who had turned and started to the other two guys in a rush.They shot her too. The mother took off, but hovered around the other end of the trees, popping up now and then, bawling at them. They split, and hiked back to the truck, and notified the Fish and Game people, who insisted they go back up with them to the site. The mother and the other “cub” were still there, and were dispatched. He spent the night in the hospital, with superficial nips, on his arms and fists where he was punching them in the mouth, and a few bruises from getting rolled a couple hundred feet. I do have photos, I’ll get them up later, since it is late and I need to get up early.
Two more bear stories. Tomorrow.
 

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I don’t have photos of this one, but here goes:
In 1974, I was a GI Bill student in Redding CA, with a new wife, an outdoorsy type, who grew up in Westwood CA. One spring break we decided to go camping up at Castle Crags, State Park, to do a little fishing, and rock climbing. Imagine my indignation to find that a camp site was 24 dollars a night. For a broke ass student, on the GI Bill, that wasn’t going to fly. So we drove up a dirt road that went west into the pines, and left the park in our dust.
Going about ten miles in, we came across a spot where someone had dozed a small road, and landing right next to the creek, poured pumice and dropped a rickety picnic table. Looked perfect.
We set up our Jansport Wedge tent, gathered some large pumice stones to make a fire ring (the spot was that new), and made a quick supper of Rice and soup mix, and instant protein. We also experimented with a no-cook Brownie mix, that was semi-ok. Left most of it in the pie pan, in front of our tent.
Being warm, we left the door open like a little porch, and climbed into our bags, which zipped together. This was a nice shake-down for all our new gear that we planned on using later in summer for a long hike in the Sierra.
As it got dark at the forest floor, it was still light in the tree tops. Soon it was dark enough that the night sounds began and we heard a loud scratching and breaking of small limbs.We looked up and around and when I shined a small flashlight (2 AA cells and an incandescent bulb of the 70’s), two eyes reflected back at me from near the tree top, on the other side of our clearing. I couldn’t tell if it was large eyes at a distance or smaller eyes, near to us, just eyes. Slowly it scratched it’s way down, while I was thinking that I’d have to take the packs up to the car, and stow them in the trunk, to keep a marauding raccoon out of them (based on an experience in the Florida Keys a couple of years before). When it landed finally and stood up, it was close enough to see it was a medium sized black bear. Perhaps not a month or so past tagging along with his mother. Big enough to be a serious problem. Crap.
I crawled out of the bed, and took up a couple of pumice rocks and tossed them at the bear, while shouting “Shoo, Get outta here”, and other such choice verbiage.
He scooted off, looking over his shoulder, and disappeared into the night, and trees upstream. Phew.
I crawled back into my side of the bags, while my wife stared at me, asking, “Well, shouldn’t we pack up, and go home?” I said, “Naw, he’s run off.” She shook her head and said, “No, that bear will be back.” In a fateful lack of stupidity, I said “look, I’ll gather up some rocks, and we’ll keep watch, half the night and half the night. You first.”
I turned over, and promptly went to sleep, like an Infantryman should be able to .
The pumice made a nice bed, because I could wallow out my shoulders and hips, and sleep in a custom form fit spot.
Next thing I know Im being shaken awake. “Your turn.”
I gazed blearily at my watch, and could make out that it was midnight.
“Hey, that was only two hours!”
“Tough, its your half, wake up I’m going to sleep.”
So, I spent the night, watching the stars wheel over head, the Dipper spinning its handle, and trying to read my book by a failing light. Occasionally I would look over at my bride, and gaze at her beauty. She was 21, slim, and had beautiful long wavy hair that cascaded over her shoulders, and was now spread in a magnificent halo on the tent flap, while she lay on her back. I felt so lucky in those hours (and still do to this day, some 50 years later.
Gradually, the sky became slightly grey, jays started to flit around and squawk, and the first rays of the sun began to touch the tree tops up the slope from over the Cascades to our east. “It’s morning,” I thought, “and I’m going to bed.”
I said out loud, “Hey it’s morning, Im going to take a nap”.
I turned my face to the tent wall, and scootched down, to get comfortable, my face inches from the tent wall. As I was just about to dr off, I took one more look over my shoulder by twisting my neck, and opening one eye.
Standing there, nose to nose with my bride, was the bear. WTF?
In an instant I took it all in, he was standing with both paws on her hair, his nose down close to her face, sniffing her breath and due to my motion, was looking over at me, over his nose. He took a breath, I took a breath.
In a split second, I spun in my bed, and struck out with my fist, planting a solid blow to the end of his nose. At the same time I screamed as loud as I could, in rage and fury (like a 9 year old girl, I am sure).
The bear sat back on its haunches, sneezing and shaking its head, blowing snot and blood all over the ground in front of him and onto the tent flap.
I half crawled out of the bag, and started throwing pumice rocks at the bear. As you know, pumice weighs nothing., Rocks the size of a softball, were like throwing ping ball balls, for all the terminal effect and flight characteristics down range. They merely bounced off of the bear, while he kept sneezing and shaking his head.
I shouted and banged on the ground, and kept coming out of the tent. The bear backed off, and finally, I grabbed river rocks from the edge of the pad area, started pelting him on his rump, and he shambled back into the trees.
Breathless and panting, I spun around, hoping not to see a mother bear or other partner, but there was only silence. Even the Jays, had stopped their yapping.
Looking at the tent, I realized, NO WIFE!
Did I miss something? Had she been dragged off by another bear while I was running off the first one? What?
I stepped over to the tent, calling her name, I could hear a muffled response. I couldn’t tell where from, but I could barely hear her. Again I called to her, and realized it was coming from our little tent. I lifted the top edge of the sleeping bags, and peered down into the bottom. She was down there, all curled up, looking up at me in a mixture of caution and anger. “Is it gone?”
I replied, “yeah, he’s gone”.She came out of the bag, called me a couple of choice names, and said, “I told you we should have left last night.” She began to collapse the tent, and I began to help. We left in a very, very short time.
Needless to say, I heed her council, since then.
 
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I don’t have photos of this one, but here goes:
In 1974, I was a GI Bill student in Redding CA, with a new wife, an outdoorsy type, who grew up in Westwood CA. One spring break we decided to go camping up at Castle Crags, State Park, to do a little fishing, and rock climbing. Imagine my indignation to find that a camp site was 24 dollars a night. For a broke ass student, on the GI Bill, that wasn’t going to fly. So we drove up a dirt road that went west into the pines, and left the park in our dust.
Going about ten miles in, we came across a spot where someone had dozed a small road, and landing right next to the creek, poured pumice and dropped a rickety picnic table. Looked perfect.
We set up our Jansport Wedge tent, gathered some large pumice stones to make a fire ring (the spot was that new), and made a quick supper of Rice and soup mix, and instant protein. We also experimented with a no-cook Brownie mix, that was semi-ok. Left most of it in the pie pan, in front of our tent.
Being warm, we left the door open like a little porch, and climbed into our bags, which zipped together. This was a nice shake-down for all our new gear that we planned on using later in summer for a long hike in the Sierra.
As it got dark at the forest floor, it was still light in the tree tops. Soon it was dark enough that the night sounds began and we heard a loud scratching and breaking of small limbs.We looked up and around and when I shined a small flashlight (2 AA cells and an incandescent bulb of the 70’s), two eyes reflected back at me from near the tree top, on the other side of our clearing. I couldn’t tell if it was large eyes at a distance or smaller eyes, near to us, just eyes. Slowly it scratched it’s way down, while I was thinking that I’d have to take the packs up to the car, and stow them in the trunk, to keep a marauding raccoon out of them (based on an experience in the Florida Keys a couple of years before). When it landed finally and stood up, it was close enough to see it was a medium sized black bear. Perhaps not a month or so past tagging along with his mother. Big enough to be a serious problem. Crap.
I crawled out of the bed, and took up a couple of pumice rocks and tossed them at the bear, while shouting “Shoo, Get outta here”, and other such choice verbiage.
He scooted off, looking over his shoulder, and disappeared into the night, and trees upstream. Phew.
I crawled back into my side of the bags, while my wife stared at me, asking, “Well, shouldn’t we pack up, and go home?” I said, “Naw, he’s run off.” She shook her head and said, “No, that bear will be back.” In a fateful lack of stupidity, I said “look, I’ll gather up some rocks, and we’ll keep watch, half the night and half the night. You first.”
I turned over, and promptly went to sleep, like an Infantryman should be able to .
The pumice made a nice bed, because I could wallow out my shoulders and hips, and sleep in a custom form fit spot.
Next thing I know Im being shaken awake. “Your turn.”
I gazed blearily at my watch, and could make out that it was midnight.
“Hey, that was only two hours!”
“Tough, its your half, wake up I’m going to sleep.”
So, I spent the night, watching the stars wheel over head, the Dipper spinning its handle, and trying to read my book by a failing light. Occasionally I would look over at my bride, and gaze at her beauty. She was 21, slim, and had beautiful long wavy hair that cascaded over her shoulders, and was now spread in a magnificent halo on the tent flap, while she lay on her back. I felt so lucky in those hours (and still do to this day, some 50 years later.
Gradually, the sky became slightly grey, jays started to flit around and squawk, and the first rays of the sun began to touch the tree tops up the slope from over the Cascades to our east. “It’s morning,” I thought, “and I’m going to bed.”
I said out loud, “Hey it’s morning, Im going to take a nap”.
I turned my face to the tent wall, and scootched down, to get comfortable, my face inches from the tent wall. As I was just about to dr off, I took one more look over my shoulder by twisting my neck, and opening one eye.
Standing there, nose to nose with my bride, was the bear. WTF?
In an instant I took it all in, he was standing with both paws on her hair, his nose down close to her face, sniffing her breath and due to my motion, was looking over at me, over his nose. He took a breath, I took a breath.
In a split second, I spun in my bed, and struck out with my fist, planting a solid blow to the end of his nose. At the same time I screamed as loud as I could, in rage and fury (like a 9 year old girl, I am sure).
The bear sat back on its haunches, sneezing and shaking its head, blowing snot and blood all over the ground in front of him and onto the tent flap.
I half crawled out of the bag, and started throwing pumice rocks at the bear. As you know, pumice weighs nothing., Rocks the size of a softball, were like throwing ping ball balls, for all the terminal effect and flight characteristics down range. They merely bounced off of the bear, while he kept sneezing and shaking his head.
I shouted and banged on the ground, and kept coming out of the tent. The bear backed off, and finally, I grabbed river rocks from the edge of the pad area, started pelting him on his rump, and he shambled back into the trees.
Breathless and panting, I spun around, hoping not to see a mother bear or other partner, but there was only silence. Even the Jays, had stopped their yapping.
Looking at the tent, I realized, NO WIFE!
Did I miss something? Had she been dragged off by another bear while I was running off the first one? What?
I stepped over to the tent, calling her name, I could hear a muffled response. I couldn’t tell where from, but I could barely hear her. Again I called to her, and realized it was coming from our little tent. I lifted the top edge of the sleeping bags, and peered down into the bottom. She was down there, all curled up, looking up at me in a mixture of caution and anger. “Is it gone?”
I replied, “yeah, he’s gone”.She came out of the bag, called me a couple of choice names, and said, “I told you we should have left last night.” She began to collapse the tent, and I began to help. We left in a very, very short time.
Needless to say, I heed her council, since then.
A college friend was working at the same pack station as my wife to be. They were in the Yosemite Back Country where she was the cook for the trip. She heard something in the kitchen and tried to get out of her sleeping bag to chase it off and couldn’t. The bear was sitting on the open end of the sleeping bag, trapping her there. Not a happy camper.

Bears have my respect, but I’m always prepared.
 
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Personally I worry about bears less then 2 -legged predators, but a bear that wants to eat you is not something to trifle with.

I grew up in bear country (predominately grizzly) in Canada. Encountered many in the wild, haven't had a bad experience (yet).

But all it takes is one time, when a bear wants to eat you. And black bears do occasionally feel the need to eat humans, and those attacks are vicious.

These days I'm planning on carrying a 9mm with 147 grain hard cast rounds. Mostly for humans (lots of weird shit happens in the woods), but would be suitable to fend off lions and bears if needed.
I was fishing a tank out in the middle of a forest I found on maps and hiked out to. I see this dude 100yds off in a partially cleared section across the tank. Kept fishing and watching him without being obvious, but he was slowly bounding tree to tree/bush and peeking out in the most obvious manner, and he was wearing slacks, loafers, and a polo which was odd. I walked over to a picnic table and sat my back pack down and let him get about 20yds away and whipped something out and I guess he didn’t like it and bolted. I just kept fishing.

whole thing was weird, and I'm not someone most people see and think “yeah, thats an easy target” more so then. I didn’t see anyone else all day so was he trying to hurt me, or did I miss out on a free BJ? Guess I’ll never know, but I was wearing shorts and boots so maybe it was that 😆

Also I parked way down the road alone and walked in on unmarked over grown trails so he wouldn’t have seen me head in and I’d been there most of the day. It was on a weekday so the place was always deserted, I could walk 7 miles and not see anyone regularly.

I worry more about hogs than people. Ive whooped people, but a big hog tore me up… I made it into sausage and pork steaks in the end though lol
 
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I was fishing a tank out in the middle of a forest I found on maps and hiked out to. I see this dude 100yds off in a partially cleared section across the tank. Kept fishing and watching him without being obvious, but he was slowly bounding tree to tree/bush and peeking out in the most obvious manner, and he was wearing slacks, loafers, and a polo which was odd. I walked over to a picnic table and sat my back pack down and let him get about 20yds away and whipped something out and I guess he didn’t like it and bolted. I just kept fishing.

whole thing was weird, and I'm not someone most people see and think “yeah, that an easy target” more so then. I didn’t see anyone else all day so was he trying to hurt me, or did I miss out on a free BJ? Guess I’ll never know, but I was wearing shorts and boots so maybe it was that 😆

Also I parked way down the road alone and walked in on unmarked over grown trails so he wouldn’t have seen me head in and I’d been there most of the day. It was on a weekday so the place was always deserted, I could walk 7 miles and not see anyone regularly.

I worry more about hogs than people. Ive whooped people, but a big hog tore me up… I made into into sausage and pork steaks in the end though lol

It's the vibe you project. I feel it reading your posts.

Don't dread it, it's your superpower.

Just don't act on it.

Twenty bucks is not just twenty bucks sometimes.
 
Best bear thread on SH was when someone posted about the hiker in Alaska that killed a huge ass bear with the AK he was hiking with.

So it became an argument of whether or not an AK was an appropriate carry in bear country.....I'd say the proof was in the photos.

Neat thing was the dude that killed the bear joined the thread.
 
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Montana

A friend found 35-year-old Dustin Kjersem dead in a tent on Saturday morning about 2.5 miles up Moose Creek Road, in a fairly remote camping area in Montana, according to Gallatin County Sheriff Dan Springer.

Kjersem was last heard from on Oct. 10 as he was leaving to go camping for the weekend. He had plans to meet with a friend on Friday afternoon, according to the sheriff's office.

After he did not make it to the meetup location, Kjersem's friend went looking for him and ultimately found him dead.