Casual Encounteurs

 

Loop Lake Road - Algoma National Forest

Between 2010 and 2019, and prior to its untimely demise due to Covid and related issues, I went bear hunting at Halfway Haven five times and learned to admire, enjoy and love the dark and almost impenetrable pine forests, placid lakes, logging roads in a constant state of disrepair, and the abundant wildlife and fisheries.

I caught walleye and pike, shot ruffled and spruce grouse for the camp pot, and had my fair share of success with black bears, not only for the trophies but also for their fantastic meat. But some of the most cherished memories come from casual encounters.

In 2019 I took some friends from Brazil hunting and they wanted to go after both the ever present black bears as well as timber wolves that moved in the area following the mighty moose and seriously impacting bear hunting, but that is a different story.

Since my friends refused to drive for fear of getting lost (in the single road that was led to camp) I had to drop them at their assigned baits and pick them up at night. I also had to babysit them to make sure that they had their gear going in and coming out.

A certain night when I came to pick up Alceu, who was sitting for wolf, I noticed that he had left his electronic game call behind. As I had no idea of the plans for the following day I just told him to load up his gear and wait for me in the truck and took the narrow trail to retried the equipment. It was pitch black dark, except for the bright northern stars, and I relied only on my headlight. The moment I touched the call that was hanging from a tree three wolves started howling around me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I was uncertain how a can of bear spray would perform against the apex predators of the north woods. That is one of the most primeval feelings I ever felt.

Not wanting to find out how many other puppies were around I made a tactical retreat to the safe and comfort of my truck!

In the previous year, I spent two weeks, instead of the normal seven days, at camp. More time to do what I like best: not much at all! Since I am constantly reminded that God doesn’t count days spent hunting, fishing or exploring wild places against our allotment, I guess that I don’t do much at all. Anyhow…

On the day before we were supposed to drive home, and having fished and hunted to my heart’s content, I took an afternoon to visit Steve and Gale at their beautiful trapper’s cabin out of Much Lake Road. Jeff, our guide turned friend, asked me to stop at a couple baits on the way back in order to get his game cameras, saving him time the following day.

Towards late afternoon I bid goodbye to the nice couple and went on my mission. At the first stop I had a long walk on a soft sandy road, crisscrossed by wolf tracks, and carried a 257 Weatherby just in case. Except for ravens and crows, and maybe a bald eagle I saw nothing.

At the second stop, my walk would be much shorter but almost entirely in the timber. Being a bit tired and wanting to make a fast retrieval I took nothing. As I made the last bend of the trail before the bait barrel I came face to face to a beautiful black bear, that probably was just as surprised as I was.

We both froze and the story takes two paths! The boring one is that I started backing up until we couldn’t see each other, went back to the truck, got a gun and came back to find nothing and picked up the camera and went back to the lodge. The other path is to give a bit more detail to our casual encounter!

When the bear and I came face to face we carefully examined each other. Could we have met before? And then we apparently came to the same conclusion! Both of us being proper gentlemen, and not having being properly introduced, we decided not to engage in any conversation. Such is the burden of civilization.