Last Thursday night was an excellent evening in the forest! Before then, none of our baits had been hit. Cody and I hadn’t planned on staying on the stand until dark or very long at all.

It was a beautiful night to sit. There were no bugs and I was thankful to enjoy the greenish glow of the sun beaming through the budding leaves. I couldn’t help but set a while and count my blessings while enjoying the great outdoors.

After about 45 minutes I heard a thrashing crash that was about 100-150 yards away. It sounded like it could have been a larger animal, but then all was quiet. A falling limb? Frolicking squirrels? It could have been anything. All returned calmly to the serenity of spring.

After a brief two minutes enough time had passed for my heart to slow and for me to relax back to listening to the bird songs. Then the unmistakable beats of hooves on leaves came through the trees. A trotting moose was definitely heading my way. I looked at my bow with an arrow knocked. I didn’t raise it. I keenly scanned the forest openings for other critters. Nothing. The moose was alone, but it looked spooked. Making a mental note of the moose’s disposition, I texted Cody to let him know of my excitement and to check when he might want to head back to the trucks.

Moments later. I heard another animal moving quickly across the forest floor. No hooves this time. It’s a bear! I readied my bow and zeroed my gaze on the opening in the alders where the moose had emerged a minute earlier. A black bear popped out and jogged through the opening at the end of the lane. Moving out of sight now, the bear slowed his trot through the crispy leaves. For a moment I thought he may continue on and pursue the moose. But, no! He broke through some brush and nosed his way toward some molasses covered corn.

I pressed my palm to the grip of my Hoyt. My breath hastened and I felt the need for primal focus. No time for “buck fever” now. My thoughts became singularly focused on the terminal task - one spot on the bear’s chest, aim small. The bear had two more steps before he would reach a natural stopping point. Once there he would provide a better angle. But then the bear paused. He stopped and sniffed the breeze. Would he commit? Should a draw now? With my stare still focused on the spot, the bear took the steps I was waiting for. As he did, I drew. My pin settled, bow leveled, and it was time to squeeze.

The trigger broke clean with my sight still solidly locked on the spot of bear hair that I had been staring down. The arrow arced toward the bear with a tracer nock blazing an orange glow behind. Thwackoof, the arrow struck home and the orange rocket like beacon was suddenly snuffed by coarse black fur. The bear gave a grunt and charged out of sight for a moment. Then I saw him as he crested a small rise. He crashed. Sighed twice. The calm serenity of a soft spring evening returned to the forest once more.

I texted Cody with the news and collected my thankful thoughts and kit. The necessary waiting time after a shot always seems to be a nervous and fitful timeout. It was made better with the knowledge that the bear had quickly expired. Still nagging doubts remained. I replayed the shot sequence over in my mind to reassure myself as I relayed the good news to Jamie.

It wasn’t long before Cody met me at my stand and we began trailing the bear. He hadn’t gone more than 40 yards. We hauled out the bear with full hearts and great memories. Blake is excited to grind meat for brats and sausage. I’m thankful and blessed to have great friends, a God who loves me more than anything I could possibly possibly ask for or imagine, and the great outdoors that we can all enjoy together.

Get out and enjoy these great Alaskan outdoors. It’s a great place to be.

-Jesse Bjorkman

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Last edited by SpartanGunner; 05/19/20.

If you are going to be dumb - you've got to be tuff.