Betsy the Bear
and Beyond the Usual Senses

by Julia Heinz, Alaska

My friend Betsy Wilson and I took the jetboat up the Chitlak River for some bear hunting. Fifteen minutes after tying up the boat, I sensed something behind me. It was a bear sniffing my backpack.

Because Betsy loves black bear meat and her freezer is sparse, she asked if we could go black bear hunting this spring. Since she surveys sea lions for her work, Betsy’s schedule is flexible. My work is less flexible, but I had scheduled a Thursday and Friday off before Memorial Day; so we packed the jet boat full of lumber and traveled
16 miles up the river to work on a cabin that I am building during the day. We planned to hunt during the evening.

The day was beautiful, bright from sun high in the sky; yet the nearby snowcapped mountains, blue glaciers, and gentle wind kept the temperatures pleasant and the mosquitoes sluggish. We stopped once along the way to look for bear tracks and only saw the prints of one brown bear. Once we reached my land, we unloaded the boat and began working.

<< ---  Jetboat ready to go bear hunting (left)

Chitlak River near cabin (below)

We are not carpenters and we were repeatedly reminded of this fact. We joined together in laughter several times when we realized our foolish mistakes. Fortunately the errors have less importance for a rough hunting cabin. Actually, these blunders can add a bit of character to the building and are certainly, for me, a lasting visible memory of the process.

We stopped working around 4:30 pm and placed our tools back in the bucket. Betsy is a master gardener and always seems to have fresh greens and pesto to contribute. As I received her gift of food, I considered the evolution of humans from hunters and gatherers to workers in an agrarian society, and realized I am far less advanced than Betsy, since she gardens and I only hunt. Regardless of our place on the evolutionary timeline, our different expertise makes us a good team for outings. After preparing and enjoying an early dinner of pasta, pesto and salad, we proceeded up the river to one of my favorite hunting bluffs.

Betsy used the window screen to sift the flour for the pasta!

We quietly eased into the area, secured the boat, and hiked to the bluff about 50 feet above the river. I thought of the many bears I have this seen this season in the open areas below. This led me to be optimistic that we would spot one that day. Unfortunately, since it was later in the spring, more vegetation lessened the visibility. We dropped our packs, seated ourselves on the ledge, and began to look through our binoculars. After a few minutes of glassing the fields below and mountain goats above, we paused and breathed in the freshness of spring.

A drake and hen mallard flew by us as they followed the river current. We were both delighted to have broken away from obligations in town and be in such beautiful wilderness. Betsy began testing different bracing methods and shooting positions. I continued to glass while suggesting a few different shooting techniques. My attention was focused on the open areas and their borders along the woods. I ranged the distance even though I have ranged it before. I don’t know why I repeat the ranging. Perhaps it is just part of my ritual in preparing for the hunt, or perhaps I just want to make use of my equipment.

Betsy decided she would like to shoot from the sitting position. As I was concentrating and focusing on the possibilities below and beyond, I felt and possibly heard a presence behind us. I ignored it, but the feeling persisted. I turned to see a black bear sniffing my pack. I gently said, “Betsy, there is your bear.” At first, the bear reacted and jolted a few feet. He seemed more curious then threatening. As I continued to talk softly to the bear, he turned to look at me as Betsy turned to look at him. Betsy was standing and had her rifle in her hand, but hesitated to look back as she thought I must be joking, especially since we had only been there 15 minutes. Once she saw the bear, she asked, “Should I shoot?” I continued to talk softly to the bear and remarked to Betsy,” It is a sure, close shot, looks like a good eating bear, so go ahead.” She shot her first black bear, and he dropped 15 feet away.

Betsy Wilson and her first bear

We thanked the bear. We felt sadness for his death yet excitement about the harvest. Hunting, killing, and harvesting always evokes an array of contradicting emotions.

After an hour or two of caring for the bear’s meat and fur, we were back on the ledge snacking on cheese and crackers, when we saw another, larger bear in the far field 200 yards away.

Cleaning the bear

We watched through our binoculars for about 30 minutes, and then hiked through the woods around the field to get a closer view from 80 yards. The bear merrily feasted on the luscious vegetation. Periodically, he raised his head to look around and smell the air. Betsy encouraged me to shoot, but I hesitated for several reasons. First, we used my game bags on the first bear. Second, I planned to hike through the gorge with my family tomorrow. Third, I have tasty meat in the freezer already from another bear. However, I do keep more game bags downriver in the shed, Betsy volunteered to deal with the meat, and there are many people who will gladly accept bear meat.

Hanging the bear meat

Mainly, I hesitated because I was just enjoying watching the movements of his black body in the midst of all those bright green plants. I decided that I probably wouldn't shoot; but for practice, I would just find him in my scope--and then I would make the decision whether or not to shoot. Soon after I had him in my sights, he appeared to feel the threat, and moved into the woods. He didn't actually run, but he did move with purpose.

That night, before drifting into the world of sleep, we reflected about the hunt. We agreed that many animals being preyed upon sense intention. The first bear stayed close, as he was focused on my calm voice, reflecting that I had no intention of shooting him. He didn’t seem to feel Betsy’s gun pointed at him. Yet the second bear appeared to feel the sights of my gun on him. We have noticed this behavior with other animals. We both have watched caribou, moose. and even sheep seem at ease until they are in the sights of a gun or bow when they suddenly become acutely aware. Similarly, many huntresses use intuition in addition to other senses to find the prey. I don’t know if I turned to see the bear behind me because I felt his view of me as a possible meal or because I felt our winter’s meat was behind us. Another possibility is simply that I heard the bear. Hearing, sight, and vision are extremely complex physiological processes, yet are clearly understood. I’m convinced that other intangible, less understood senses exist in animals, including humans. I find that when my thoughts become quieter in wilderness, my awareness of these other mysterious senses intensifies.