On August 3rd. 1999, I decided to fly to Scatter River airstrip on my trapline tour and repair the cabin roof. After loading the plane with all the supplies I thought I might require, I left home for the 5 hour plane trip.

 Usually when flying into this strip I circle around and check for any bear signs around the cabin or trail from airstrip to cabin. For some reason I forgot this important item on this trip. The weather was so good on this trip all I could think about was getting into the cabin and getting the roof fixed.

 After landing I quickly put 2 slugs into my 12-gauge pump, and got my pack ready to travel the 1/2 mile down a steep hill, through the forest to the cabin. To save trips I also tied a new quad battery on the back of my pack. With my camera around my neck, pack on my back, a 30 pound roll of clear plastic over my right shoulder and my shotgun in my left hand I headed down the hill.

 As I always do on this trip between the airstrip and cabin I was singing as I quickly walked along the trapline trail. Soon the trapline cabin came into sight and I quickly saw the stovepipe was still in its position, meaning no bears had been in the cabin. With my guard slightly down I continued hurrying toward the cabin anxious to get this load off my back. As I came closer I could see the cabin door was closed, leading me to believe there were no bears in the immediate area.

 It had been two years since I had been to this trapline cabin and the alders and willows had grown several feet since last there, making it very hard to see the ground around the cabin. Now only 50 ft from the cabin, the only thing on my mind was getting the load off my back.

 Suddenly at only 30 feet from the cabin door a full grown Grizzly bear stood up on its hind feet right in front of the cabin door. My reaction, immediately change direction, and as I focused my gaze on the bears middle and started speaking in a low soothing voice. Trying not to alarm the bear or challenge it by making eye contact, I was now walking backward at a steady pace. Suddenly another bear of the same size stood up beside the first one. Still backing up and talking to these bears, a third bear stood up. At less than 50 feet, I now have three adult grizzlies standing on their hind legs and trying to identify me by moving their heads from side to side and smelling the air.

 As I kept backing up the bears went down on all four feet, making it impossible to see them in the willows. Once again the bears stood up, trying to identify me, however the bears now have backed up 20 feet. Again they go down on all fours and this time I caught a glimpse of them heading toward my left, as they go behind the cabin and into the forest.

 All this time I have not had time to get any of the weight off my back and I rush toward the cabin dropping everything except my shot gun. At the cabin I quickly picked up a bar and started beating on the bottom of an empty 45 gallon drum. That’s the last time I saw those bears, however I sure kept my eyes open for the rest of that trip.

 After I had time to think about this encounter, I quickly decided to take the plug out of my shotgun so as to be able to load 5 shells instead of the 2 that I had. I was happy to be on the roof fixing it while keeping an ever present look out for those grizzlies.

 Those bears had dug a hole in the ground right at the door, and it was filled with water from the previous nights rain. Due to the very warm weather during the day the bears had been laying in that hole, keeping cool.

 This is one bear encounter I will never forget and it sure helps to keep my attention focused on what is around me when traveling in the bush. - Trapper Ken

  Our thanks to Trapper Ken for sharing this story with us. Visit him at his web site at www.trapperken.com and tell him you read his story in the Backwoods Bound Bullet.

  About the Author:  It is not common to find a real life trapper and bush pilot in todays world, even in northwestern Canada, but there are still a few around and Trapper Ken is one of the best. In the 1970's and early 1980's Trapper Ken was a small business owner with a knack for fixing and building things with his own hands who lived in central British Columbia, Canada. He spent most of his spare time flying amphibious bush planes into remote areas of the province for camping and fishing trips, in many cases to cabins he would build along the coast of remote lakes that you can only fly into.

 In spite of an entrepreneurial knack, in 1982 Trapper Ken's love of the bush over came him, so he sold his construction company and bought a trap line up in the Liard River Region of Northern British Columbia. For the last 20 years he has been happily trapping away in the winter while spending summers building bush cabins and flying his bush plane around the rugged mountain landscape of his home province in Canada. In one memorable day in the spring of 1998 he had to kill two hungry Black Bears that attacked him in the span of a few hours. He is a long time member of the BC Trappers Association, and his handmade stove pipe cook stoves are the hottest gift at the annual convention prize give away.

  However, it is not surprising that his entrepreneurial spirit would show itself again and in 2000 Trapper Ken decided to share his exciting lifestyle with those less fortunate than him and offer adventure tours to a few groups a year in addition to his usual routine. This was the birth of TrapperKen.com.

 Everyone who has accompanied Trapper Ken on one of these adventure tours has been left with a feeling that it was a life defining experience. Its usually something the rest of your city dwelling buddies can not quite understand or relate to, but is something you would have only regretted for not going.

 Hunter's Edge, Inc. of Bainbridge, Georgia has developed a new scent dispersal technology for the deer hunting industry. The new product is named MAX 44 DOE-N-HEAT PELLETS. These patented time-released pellets contain estrous scent molecules, which when placed in a scrape, dissolve slowly and remain there for weeks under normal weather conditions. The pellets give off an odor so strong, they can be detected up to 25 yards down-wind by the human nose.

 When placed in a scrape during pre-rut, rut and post-rut periods, the pellets suggest to a buck that a receptive doe is in the area and is ready to be bred. Each time you hunt this area, inspect the scape and if no pellets are visible, apply another vial to keep it active.

 If a scrape is not present, simply locate an overhanging limb that is approximately 4 to 5 feet off the ground. With a stick, remove all leaves and grasses, pawing the ground to simulate a whitetail deer. Pour the contents of a vial into the scrape. Patented time-released formula last up to 10 times longer than liquid or gel scents.

 Pellets can also be used around your stand to cover human odor, or can be placed in open shooting lanes to produce a standing shot. Promotional buy one get one free package contains two glass vials with 22 pellets in each vial. Visit them on-line at www.hunters-edge.com and tell them you heard about them from Backwoods Bound.
 

 Turkeys, turkeys, turkeys. I had waited a whole year for this springs turkey season since I wasn't able to draw a permit for the 2002 season. What a wait! With the truck loaded and me full of anticipation I headed for the ranch in southern Illinois this past April to try my luck. Without further ado, here are the details.

 Day one. In the woods before sun up. Used crow call. Crows answered back. Cool, but I had rather have a turkey gobble at me instead. Tried box call. No answer. Used slate call. No answer. One and half hours later moved to area number two. No turkeys here either but five deer came in on me. Winded me but couldn't see me. Called to them with the slate call to see their reaction. After 20 minutes of looking for me they got tired of the game and moved off. Two hours later I was in spot number three. No turkeys in sight. Headed for the house around eleven with my belly growling.

 Day two. Headed for a new section of the ranch where the neighbors had seen a turkey a few days before. After calling for a couple of hours I hadn't heard or seen a turkey. I did manage to spook a few deer while going in. To bad it wasn't deer season. That's alright, they will be there this fall. My other areas that day yielded nothing either. Oh well. I still had two days left before I had to be home and besides I've been through this before while deer hunting. You can set up in an area, not see anything for two days and suddenly on the third they show up.

 Day three I woke up with the feeling this would be the day. Set up at the first area. No turkeys in sight or hearing distance. Started thinking, what in the world happened to all of the turkeys we had seen last fall while deer hunting? Just couldn't believe I hadn't seen or heard a turkey yet. Went to setup two for the day. An open area on the side of a hill that is cleared of trees because of overhead power lines. Great looking place. Deer trails zigzag their way through this area. Set decoy in middle of deer trail and started calling. A little over an hour later still no turkeys. Dozed off for a few minutes. Awoke and took a long good look around. No turkeys and butt numb. Decided to stand and stretch before moving on. Stood, stretched and watched as a turkey that I could have never seen unless it was right on me (where he came from the ground dropped off real steep and the only way to see down that direction was to stand on the edge of the dropoff) fly away down the powerline clearing. Well son-of-a-*%^$\&#!!! Thinking he might hang around down in that area I packed up, took the long way down and around the hill and set up. Nothing. He had spooked on out of the area. Dang it!!! Headed for the truck.

 As I pulled out of the driveway to head back to the house I noticed something in the field just down the road. It was a turkey and it was this white/brown colored one we had seen last fall. As I drove closer, just letting the truck ease along he couldn't make up his mind which way to go. All sorts of things ran through my mind. I finally came to the conclusion that I would never get close enough to him as he took off back across the field from the direction he had came from. Well that answered that question. As I put my foot on the gas to go on a turkey that had been in shadows on the side of the road took off, flew across the ditch and trees and landed on my property. I slammed on the brakes, threw the truck into reverse and backed back into the driveway. I knew which way he was headed and knew how to get there, hopefully quicker and be there to ambush him. Jumping out and grabbing my equipment as quick as possible and headed up over the hill to the area I knew he was headed to. I was almost there when I got to a spot where you could see down to the field he was in. Creeping up to the grown up fencerow I spyed down to see if I could spot him. Yup, there he is and there he goes. He had beaten me to the spot. Crap!! I turned around and headed back to the truck. It had been a fun morning.

 Day four, the last day. Watched a beautiful sunrise that morning. Took a picture. Called and called. No answer. Took a nap since that seemed to work for me the day before. It didn't. Moved to my last and finally spot. Nothing there either. Stupid turkeys. Didn't anyone explain the rules to them. Season opens, they hear my call, come to investigate, get shot. What part don't they understand? How hard could it be?

 Anyway I headed home that afternoon knowing I'd be back in the fall chasing deer and if I draw a permit for the fall season the turkeys. Turkey hunting is a lot like deer hunting. A lot of time with no excitement and then BAM! Everything turns around. Those few minutes make it all worth while. Putting the lessons I learned into my archives of constantly changing hunting knowledge until later I switched to fishing mode as I was headed to Kentucky Lake the first of May for some bluegill fishing with Country Bob. You'll get that story next month. Until then, James.

ANSWER TO BACKWOODS TRIVIA:   Charles Lindbergh completed the first trans-Atlantic solo flight on May 21, 1927 in a plane he had named "The Spirit of St. Louis".