Woodpecker Lips - The Finale

Part 4

As I mentioned previously, I met Stan as a matter of chance.  Total Archery Challenge in Big Sky, Montana, I rode a ski lift to the first target, and missed gloriously at African Lion, an 80-yard shot, losing my arrow, a preview of the day to unfold. At the next target I see a guy crouching along the concrete and metal ski lift support structure in his suede chukkas waiting to shoot.  I invited him to join our group, I am running solo, along with a couple I met at the first target from Tacoma, Washington. Stan was his name.  We ended up at Scissorbills Saloon, in what would become usual protocol, we finished the day with burgers and a beer, or two.  Over the course of the next couple of years we would become friends. 

There are only so many people you will meet in this life that will elevate to best friend level, and we meet many people, but most will only be acquaintances.  When life circumstances and chance bring a new friend into or and old one back into my life, I try to cherish it.  I can count on less than two hands the best friends of 44 years, and most are from my childhood, Stan happens to be one of them.  Now for some real life, best friend stuff, a friend sends you a message on a Sunday morning in rural Montana, saying his Bloodhound Otis has had “something really bad go wrong”, stroke, aneurysm, something, and is laying in in his kennel convulsing and there are no vets available. He then mentions, “I am not sure I can do this”. You respond in kind, “I will take care of this, I will be there as soon as I can.”   You go to his house and put an end to the dog’s suffering, relieving your friend of the burden.  Otis remains the only dog ever dispatched by my  hands, it felt awful,  but I did the deed, I liked Otis, always the first of Stan’s three dogs to greet me and smell my hand.

In any case, it was Friday afternoon, exactly like the one I wrote about earlier, I had finished up my work early and was headed from Bozeman to the Madison Range, and back to that spot, that Blonde bear had consumed my thoughts for the last couple of weeks, I could think of little else but getting out there and looking for that bear. 

Once again, I was headed in that evening and Stan was planning to hike the next morning, hopefully one of us would be notching our Montana black bear tag before the end of the weekend.  As it had been for weeks, more rain was in the forecast, at this point I was considering building an ark!   I filled my Stone Glacier pack with the intent to spend the weekend chasing bears and hopefully pack one out.  This is the point where one could question my decision making, but I did what I did. I thought the odds were in my favor, grizzly bear sightings are rare, even in this area of the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem.  Just back from winter in the Caribbean, a transformative experience to say the least, feeling emboldened and invincible on some level was certainly part of the decision-making equation.  

Now we pick up the story where we left off all the way back at the beginning.  I made it to the glassing knob by early evening and was boiling water for some freeze-dried sausage biscuits & gravy, my favorite freeze-dried meal.  Within minutes I was looking for bears and eating the chunks of biscuit with the smooth sausage gravy off my titanium spork designed to eat right out the freeze-dried bags.  A well-designed and efficient delivery system I might add.

My previous Grizzly bear encounters in this area were certainly on my mind, in fact they weighed heavy the entire hike in, as I set up camp, and attempted to focus my attention on locating black bears.  I remember the hair on my neck and arms standing on end.

My eyes are buried in my optics, a pair of Zeiss 10x42 binoculars.  Glassing for animals, I zone in, and the reality that surrounds me becomes background noise.  I am not very aware of my surroundings in these hours, it all just fades away into darkness.  For whatever reason, I can’t remember why now, I looked away from the binoculars, I was fiddling with items in my pack, most likely a snack, my peripheral vision caught something off the left, and my nose picked up an odor, as my head turned to the left my eyes immediately picked up a giant bear head.  A large Grizzly had just crested the knob and was headed directly at me, 40 yards, my first thought, “this is too close, I am in a really bad situation right now”.   

I like to think I have good instincts when it comes to responding to threats, I spun to my right, away from the bear, scooping up my rifle as I stood and said, “hey bear”, in a stern but voice full of fear, then the moment of eye contact.  As we stood there looking at each other for a split second before I looked away, I knew right then I was staring at a large mature Grizzly bear, likely a big boar, facing any fear that I may have had directly in the face.  There was no running away, I had one option, stand my ground, then react to the bear.    He turned slightly, enough that I could now make out the unmistakable shoulder hump that is the most recognizable feature of the grizzly bear.

Here I am face to face with one of the biggest and badest animals on the plant, close enough I can smell him, the odor was unlike anything I have smelled before or since, intense, thick, and musky. This encounter was different than the others, there were seconds where I wasn’t sure what this bear was going to do. The wind was in my favor, he couldn’t get a scent, bears don’t see well, this was the worst kind of situation.  In that moment that felt like minutes but was most likely just seconds, I knew he was deciding what to do, and fleeing was not the only option being considered.  He took a few more steps towards me further closing the gap, I had my rifle shouldered, safety off, and was speaking in a firm voice to the bear, fully expecting him to charge.   The pit in my stomach was indescribable, the sun, now low in the sky, reflected off his grizzled coat, strands of fur danced in the light against the long shadows of dusk, shifting color between silver and brown.  I will carry the memory of that image and the physical manifestation of fear in my guts to my last moments on this earth, in fact I am certain I will think about it upon my death. In the end, and fortunately for both of us, he decided that avoidance was the best policy, in that moment he turned and went back down the way he came up.  

I was shaken and shaking, not only was this a bear encounter, but it was also a close encounter, in that moment, I felt fear like I have never felt before.  I paced around on top of this knob trying to figure out what to do.  Talking to myself as usual, “Less than an hour before sunset, do I stay or do I pack up and leave?”  I couldn’t see where the bear went, he could easily still be hanging around.  My tent is within rock throwing distance.

I would like to tell you that I stayed, faced that fear, and filled my Montana Black Bear tag, but I can’t… This thought crossed my mind.

The Madisonian

Black Bear Hunter Mauled & Eaten by Grizzly Bear in the Madison Valley. 

Joshua Keith Clemence, 43 yrs old, residing in Bozeman, Montana, from Covington, Indiana, cause of death: Grizzly mauling, body only partially recovered from known Grizzly bear hotspot, now the site of multiple Grizzly attacks.

In the end, I decided this was one of those adventures not to be written in time.  It was time to go, I was alone, and I had pressed my luck far enough.  My butt was puckered as I tore down my tent and smashed everything into my pack.

I hiked down off the glassing knob, picking my way though the boulders and small rocks as the elevation drops quickly, along the game trails, to the main trail, through the switchbacks, past the spring, along the mountain creek, through sweet smelling Aspen groves, past the bear scat, unloaded at the trailhead, packed up my Toyota, and left uneventfully.  Had dinner in the warmth and hospitality of my friend’s home, the rest of the weekend was forgettable I suppose.  Thus, the end to my 2022 Montana Black Bear season and the end of this story.

Dedicated to my friend Stan, you are as tough a human as I have ever known, a fine outdoorsman, and an even better human being.  I can’t forget to mention that blonde black bear I know is still out there gracefully traversing boulder fields and deadfall deep in Grizz Country, Montana, you remain magic in my life. 

Joshua

 “Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it” – Roald Dahl