# UWC Bear Hunt... Finally here!



## JuddCT (Sep 7, 2007)

Okay guys, I was the VERY lucky winner of a black bear hunt from the UWC raffle last year during the gear swap. 

I'm heading up to Idaho tomorrow with my father (it was for two) and my three brothers (we decided to split the cost for them between the five of us to make some real family memories). I'm stoked to say the least and probably won't sleep well tonight.

I'll post up a good report in about a week when I get back.

Thanks again to UWC and Wild Idaho Outfitters!


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## JERRY (Sep 30, 2007)

Awesome! Can't wait to hear your stories. Hope you all have the time of your life and return home safely. Good Luck! 8) o-||


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## pkred (Jul 9, 2009)

Now that is what I like to see. Good work UWC. Good luck Judd!


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## stablebuck (Nov 22, 2007)

Good luck! Hope y'all have tons of fun!


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## dkhntrdstn (Sep 7, 2007)

congrats on the winning of the tag and good luck.


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## bwhntr (Sep 12, 2007)

Good luck, have fun!


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## jahan (Sep 7, 2007)

I am excited for you. Can't wait to see your report!


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## izzydog (Jan 18, 2008)

I can't wait to hear about it! I have a hunt booked next spring for me and my son with Wild Idaho and would like to hear your thoughts.


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## Bax* (Dec 14, 2008)

Congrats! I hope your hunt is memorable 8)


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## Nambaster (Nov 15, 2007)

Is he still out? the suspense is killing me......


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## JuddCT (Sep 7, 2007)

I'm back and will post a lengthy report with pics tonight. The wait isn't much longer.


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## jahan (Sep 7, 2007)

JuddCT said:


> I'm back and will post a lengthy report with pics tonight. The wait isn't much longer.


Dynomite!!!


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## Bears Butt (Sep 12, 2007)

I love lengthy reports with pictures!


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## JuddCT (Sep 7, 2007)

Hello Everyone!

I had an incredible week that I'm going to post about, but words cannot express enough appreciation to the United Wildlife Cooperative (UWC) and Wild Idaho Outfitters. If you do not know much about the UWC or Wild Idaho Outfitters, please look them up. I'd recommend them both any day!

Please be open minded as I am a poor writer, but I'll exaggerate a little to keep your interest as any hunting story should.

*Chapter 1: The Beginning...*

With the lead up to "Option 2" and my growing disgust with certain non-biological decisions being made about the future of Utah hunting, I sat frustrated with what was becoming of my idea of hunting and what it should be all about. I specifically remember feeling upset with how and why decisions were being made and I felt as if there was not much I could do to make a difference.

Those feeling quickly changed after some heroic few created the United Wildlife Cooperative (http://utahwildlife.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=32962). I felt like while not all of my thoughts/feelings were aligned with this new group, I did feel them to be trustworthy stewards of wildlife and I decided to join. Little did I know that joining would affect and change my hunting family more than I would ever know.

I was obviously very anxious about the things the group could do in alignment with the North American Conservation Model, but it would be a lie if I didn't say that the allure of a guided black bear hunt didn't help motivate my membership donations. 

From the time that I entered the drawing I had one of those feelings that I would win (just like every other hunter that put in). You can tell from some of my posts I was very excited (http://utahwildlife.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=57&t=34973&p=369208&hilit=bear+hunt+uwc#p369208).

Ironically, the fateful day arrived on a planned surprise birthday party for my mother. I of course knew I would not be able to attend the live drawing at the Gear Swap (2011). However, I still had that unquestionable feeling that somehow fate would come through.

I remember the moment perfectly still today. I was sitting in my parents cabin in Timberlakes (east of Heber City), where I don't get good cell service. As the day advanced to the late afternoon, my "good feelings" turned to despair as I had convinced myself I had not won. I turned to my wife (the only person at this point that knew anything about the UWC, my donation, and hopes to win a bear hunt) and expressed, "Well, looks like no bear hunting for me". My father (the man who taught me what hunting was all about and the person I was hoping to repay for that knowledge with a guided bear hunt) heard me and asked me to elaborate. I laughed and told him not to worry about as I was sure the opportunity had passed.

*Chapter 2: The Announcement...*

As extended family began to leave and I began to clean up food/tables/chairs, my cell phone chirped. It was an unmistakable tone notifying me of a new voicemail. My heart skipped a beat. I ran to the counter where it was sitting and picked it up, flipped it open, and quickly dialed my voicemail. The first few attempts were unsuccessful as service is intermittent and I could not obtain a good connection. I remember moving to each level of the cabin with no luck and finally went out on the 2nd floor deck, found the only section where I could get 1 full bar and dialed one more time.

The feeling of excitement was immense! I couldn't speed up the prompting women's voice explaining to enter my pin. Finally I entered my pin and waited. The voice that began was not recognizable, but only as I had never spoken with this person before. "Chris, this is ... from the UWC. I think you want to call me as I have some great news!". He left his name and phone number (if I remember correctly it was Tree, but it could have been any one of the great UWC guys).

My father had seen my frantic running from the basement to the upper level and had a confused look on his face. He stepped outside and gave me a questioning look and asked, "Is everything okay?". I replied, "Yeah, I think I just won you a Bear Hunt". My last thought before dialing was almost a silent prayer that my gift to my father would be true.

I dialed frantically and messed up the first time.  I wouldn't mess that up again. As I dialed the 2nd time I thought to myself of the myriad of "prizes" that were actually given away and how it really could be anything and not the bear hunt I was hoping for. Either way as the phone connected and I heard ringing, the knot in my stomach from the anticipation continued to tighten.

"Hello", was the reply from the same voice as the message. "Is this...?" I asked. "Yeah, is this Chris?" came the reply. At that moment I knew it was all true. The voice explained they had drawn my name and that the guided bear hunt for two would soon be one of the greatest gifts I could offer the man who had dragged me through knee deep snow hiking up and down the steep mountains in the Avintaquin unit looking for deer, the man who when I was 12 stuck a 5x5 elk quarter in my pack and antlers on my back that he had shot on the 4 miles from our camp on the North Slope, the man that had literally taught me how to fish with bait as I dreamed of the day when I would get my first fly rod. I finally was able to repay only a little bit of that great knowledge he had passed down to me.

*Chapter 3: The Prodigal Son Returns...*

My father has always been the greatest hunter in my eyes. As a young boy I would look up at him in awe as he would create a well groomed path in the deep snow allowing his young sons (2 at the time - 4 total now) the ability to reserve their energy for the steep climb back up to camp in the herculean hills in Avintaquin. As I grew into a young man, I grew to love those treks into the hills.

The same cannot be said for my 2nd youngest brother. I have to say that he endured two straight years of the deepest snow deer hunt seasons I can ever imagine. After those two years he had no drive left and decided that hunting was not something he enjoyed. As the years passed I could see the grief this caused my father. He felt that due to his intense passion he had driven his son away from the enjoyment of hunting. I truly felt that he would allow this to haunt him his entire life. I can't blame him and I'm sure most fathers would feel the same. I know have a 5 year old daughter and an almost 2 year old. I would have felt the same.

Fast forward; as my father and I initially planned the hunt we discussed how great it would be to have all of his sons with him on this hunt. We discussed the options of possibly having the three others come as "non-hunters". As I'm sure they would have a great time, we decided against this. We called my older brother (11 1/2 months older than me, yeah I know, someone had to be an accident right :lol: ) and made the decision this would be a memory to last forever and decided to have everyone come as hunters. Our biggest worry was my 2nd youngest brother who is now 22.

Initially he was pretty hesitant. Can you imagine giving up hunting at a young age, only to start again 8 years later on a bear hunt. It is hard to put yourself in that frame of mind, but I'm sure the thought of waiting for a hungry bear to come within 100 yards of you isn't that appealing to everyone. After some discussion he accepted the offer and we booked his flight from Alabama to join us in Idaho.

*Chapter 3: The Hunt:*

The 5 man hunting crew (father & 4 sons ranging in age between 18 and 52) began the almost 6 hour drive to Challis, ID from Draper, UT on Saturday June 9th. We were to stay at a hotel in Challis Saturday night, attend church service Sunday morning and drive the remaining 2 hours into the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness. Unfortunately we took 2 cars so not all could share stories of past hunts or current life experiences. After arriving in Challis and checking in we met up with a trusted friend (and guide for the hunt) Rusty.

I met Rusty last fall as he helped guide my brother on his Roadless Bookcliffs LE elk hunt.










The two words I use to describe Rusty are: Mountain Goat. The guy is light on his feet and he is literally as light of foot as a Mountain Goat traversing the rocky Mtns that reside in that section of the Books. We sat down at the local burger joint (which happened to be the Challis bowling alley) and bought him dinner. We talked about the spring bear hunt this far, what they had taken, and what they had seen. There literally could have been no bears in those mountains, but just discussing the hunt with Rusty would have kept us going each day without success. Fortunately, there was not lack of bears in those hills...

After church on Sunday morning we drove the remaining 2 hours to our designated meeting place. The drive was beautiful. When we arrived and saw the majestic wilderness I knew our trip had already been a success. The clear flowing rivers of the area were breathtaking when combined with the rocky peaks and wooded hills. We emptied the trucks and prepared for the "River Crossing". Check out this video of a river crossing they have had in the past: http://www.wildidahooutfitters.com/Idaho_Bear_Hunts.aspx. Our river crossing wasn't as adventurous, but I'll leave that up to your imagination.










Once we crossed the river it was about a 2 mile horse ride to base camp. Luckily I was able to use "Paint", a 16 year old mare that I was accustomed to from our fall trip to the books. She is pretty easy to pick out among the Mules.










Arriving in camp was a beautiful scene with great views:










The hunt technically started Sunday evening; however, as our hunting tradition still holds true we chose to not hunt on Sundays so we stayed in camp exchanging mostly fictious hunting stories with the remaining guides and camp cook.

The next morning I awoke to the sounds of a ... motorcycle that wouldn't start? After the 2nd repeition I knew full well I would have a perfect alarm clock from a feathery friend each day. Breakfast was served and it was hearty:










Each day was full of some local fishing on the rivers/creeks (with little catching) or baiting which consisted of raspberry/peach pie filling, trail mix, dunkin doughnuts frosting, and other assorted treats:










The true bear hunting did not begin until around 5:30 pm when we would saddle up for our 3-6 mile horse ride to the different bait sites. The first night (Monday evening) I sat alone overlooking a bait sight that sat near a small creek. about a 1 mile above me my father was sitting with Rusty (guide) and really only about 600 yards due east of me was sitting my youngest brother with Shelby (guide). The evening was uneventful for us. The same could not be said for "The Prodigal Son". o-||

My second youngest brother sat across the canyon in another bait site all by himself. Remember, he had not been hunting for over 8 years and had all but given up as a young man. As he sat watching his bait it grew dark but still was light enough to see the bait. Suddenly he heard a branch break 30 yards behind him. He shivered (as we all do still) at the sound as his brain searched for possible perpetrators. He slowly turned around and saw a black bear staring at him. As they locked eyes the bear suddenly took off with my brother unable to raise his rifle. Instinctively as his native caveman ancestor he gave chase down the canyon towards the creek to see if he could muster a shot. The bear dissappeared in the bottom and had not surfaced on the other side of the small canyon. Once again following instinct he turned and ran back to his sitting spot hoping the bear would materialize. Sure enough it came running out of the bottom and he raised his rifle for a shot... the Savage lever action .308 bellowed in the night. The bear continued running, a clean miss.

As you can imagine the ride out in the moonlight after a miss can be tough. But it allows for some great personal reflection as you replay with perfect HD clarity the events. Unfortunately this would be his only chance during the week. However, as a true brave hunter he continued every night to sit those baits waiting. That was the only opportunity that night and as we all went to sleep we imagined ourselves in the same situation hoping we would have a better result.

The second night (Tuesday) we decided to sit the same baits as the previous night as they were getting hit hard. As I approched mine at 8:00 pm I could see the white frosting bucket that was perched on top was no longer there. There was one large boar (cinnamon with a white patch on his chest) that had been hitting this bait site by himself. Every shadow that night played tricks on my eyes as I tried to create him every 15 mins. At about 9:00 pm I heard a twig break in the bottom of the canyon and the sure signs of a large game animal approaching. BOOM, when the sharp sound of a Remington .270 600 yards to my east. As soon as the sound dissipated I could hear the animal run back up canyon in the thick brush. I never got to see what it was.

As I sat there pondering if my youngest brother had connected with his shot I could not help but get frustrated with fate for the dreadful timing. It was now 9:50, 5 mins before legal shooting light and I was straining to see with my naked high. As I brought my binoculars up to my face I glassed the bait sight and sure enough the cinnamon boar with a white patch was approaching the bait and was within 5 ft. I raised my Remington 30-06 and strained to keep the cross hairs on him. He was quartering towards me and was leaning his two front paws on a stump as he gorged himself in sweet raspberry heaven. I placed the cross-hairs on his vitals and pulled the trigger...BOOM! I quickly pulled away to see his reaction. No jump or barrel roll biting himself. He quickly scampered up the canyon never to be seen by me again.

As I approached the bait site I looked desperately for a trace of blood near the bait site, Nothing. After what seemed like an eternity I backed up to retrace my bullet path. As I did this I saw a new clump of fresh dirt 10 yards behind where the bear was standing. I approached as a sickening feeling climbed from my stomach to my throat. I crouched and inspected the long trail of fresh dirt almost perfectly created by a Federal 165 grn bullet. I had missed.

Thankfully one of the Judd's could shoot that night (the youngest) and he connected on a 3-4 year old jet-black sow (the other bear in the photo below comes tomorrow night - read below):










Missing can be very disappointing, but something that every hunter goes through. Luckily I was very happy that my youngest brother had connected and made the already successful trip even more so. The guides decided to bait another canyon (approximately 5 miles away) on Wednesday and my father decided to go along for the ride.

As they approached Rusty's favorite bait site he pulled the horses/mules up short and took my father in quietly. As they approached the bait (at noon) Rusty peered over the small hill and saw a cinnamon boar they called "Yogi" feeding on the bait. He told my father and they approached for a shot.

Roughly 100 yards away with a tree cover his stomach and back end stood Yogi. He was happily eating dunkin doughnuts frosting along with bits of trail mix. My father set his shooting sticks down, rested his Rem 7mm Mag and placed the cross hairs on Yogi's front shoulder. As you all know time begins to slow down in your mind. His brain begin to weigh the shot. Was he far enough in front of the tree or should he wait? In an instant he over compensated for the tree and pulled the shot to the right landing the bullet in front of the bear and missing. Rusty has this all on video, when I get a copy I'll post it up. Bears: 3 Judds: 1.

We were astonished to watch the video when they returned. I've seen my father make incredible shots much harder than this one. I'm not going to lie, it made me feel a little bit better to know the great hunter also can miss. However, I dearly wanted my father to connect and I could feel his pain (especially since there is a recorded copy of this the world can see.

Nevertheless, he returned with the rest of us later that night to bait sites near his missed shot. Unfortunately, he would not be the one to connect that night.

As we rode to the farthest baits we approached on horseback the 2nd drop off bait near the creek. This was to be my older brother's bait for the night. As I watched Rusty he quickly turned around and had the look in his eye. Sure enough a cinnamon bear was walking away from the bait. We dismounted as quickly as possible to catch a glimpse and hopefully a shot. The bear was unaware of us as we were divided by a spring runoff creek that provided enough noise to cover our dismal efforts. Unfortunately the bear wandered off and we didn't see him again.

Later that night as my older brother sat the bait. He watched a different cinnamon boar approach the bait. As he stopped within 15 yards of his sugary goodness my brother steadied his rest and fired. No death barrell roll or suprised jump for this guy. He dropped dead on the spot. This bear was definetly unique as he was cinnamon with kind of like blonde mohawk down its back. He also had a white patch on his chest (can't see in the pictures below):










Testicle anyone?










Bears:3 Judds:2

Our last night of hunting was magical. My father and I decided to ride to the farthest baits (the one where he missed the cinnamon and about a mile further from that is where I sat). Casey (guide) and I dropped off Rusty and my father at the mouth of the canyon they would ascent and we galloped off. We tied the horses to the trees and made the 600 yard approach to my bear bait.

It was nearly 8:45 when we got there. Just enough time for the wind to start blowing down canyon towards us, perfect. We sat about 130 yards from the bait and watched. The bait was directly in front of me at 12 o'clock. At 3 o'clock was a rotting carcass of a sow that had been killed 2 weeks earlier. At 9 o'clock was a small hill directly behind us that sloped down about 60 ft with a small wooded meadow 80 yards past the hill.

Suddenly, Casey says "I see a BIG bear" as quietly as possible. I strain my eyes at the bait and see nothing. I whisper, "where?". "3 o'clock and 30 yards below us" came the reply. "But I can't see him anymore". My heart began to race I crepped up to my knees and peaked down the hill. For a big black bear he blended him perfectly. If it wasn't for the proximity and the twitch of his ear I would have missed him. "I see him" I whispered to Casey. I was unable to get a shot due to how close he was and the angle from a kneeling position. "He is coming right up at his" whispered Casey. It was a different whisper than before. I could know hear a slight tremble in his voice. "What, Where?" I questioned. "At the base of the hill, he is coming right up to us".

Sure enough the big boar was walking a line directly to us. Why didn't he go for the bait I quickly thought. It was then I once again could feel the foul stench of rotting carcass blow across my face and engulf my nose. The dead sow. Casey and I quickly determined we didn't want a big boar crossing the hill within 5 ft of us so I decided to slowly stand and hope to catch him at 10 yards. As I began to raise I pictured every outcome in my mind even though it only took second. At full stance I peered down the hill and saw nothing. I quickly scanned the wooded thicket and saw the bear had obviously heard/scented us and had turned to quietly make a retreat. I found what I decided to be the best opening in the thicket and placed my cross hairs in the best place I had available, upper left shoulder. BANG!

The behemoth reared up in the air as if he had been shot and took off through the trees. I felt fairly confident about the shot but a little shred of doubt remained. Upper shoulder, did it go over? We hurried down the hill to inspect the area. Once again no trace of blood. We followed his path back up the canyon and along the creek. Nothing. The bear hunter had missed again!

As I slowly trekked back to the horses Casey and I reminisced about the experience and what we should have done. As I thought it over a smile crossed my face as I thought about the last week of my life. I wouldn't have changed anything about my experiences. I had seen two big boars, missed both (clean misses) and two of my brothers had shot a bear. The only regret I had was that my father had missed and would leave with nothing.

When I got back to the horse I pulled my radio out of my bag and said "Dad, over". The reply came back. "I missed again", I said. Silence. "I'm really sorry about that" came the understanding reply that only a parent could understand. The next question was strange, "Was it Superman?" Odd question I thought. As I turned to Casey, he smiled and nodded. This pure black bear I had missed was nicknamed "Superman". The guides had seen him all spring and guessed him to be between 6 ft and 6ft 1/2 and weighing somewhere between 250-300 lbs. But he wasn't given the nickname due to his size. Apparently I was the 3rd hunter to miss him this Spring (although mine had been the closest shot  ). My coy reply of "Yeah" was all that needed to be said.

"Did you see anything?" I asked my father. "Yes" was the reply. "Well..." I said. "I got Yogi". Yogi was the bear he had missed. Perfect Redemption I thought. The hunt couldn't have ended any better way. Same story as before only at 9:00 pm. Approached the bait, Yogi was gorging himself. The only difference was my father took more time and a well placed shot dropped him:










Bears: 4 Judds: 3

That last ride back to camp was amazing. Roughly 1:30 am riding horses/mules in the Idaho Wilderness is an experience everyone should have. I didn't think too much about the 2 misses of mine. I didn't even think about the 3 bears that would be heading home with us. I thought purely about the week long adventure I got to enjoy with my 3 brothers and father. Memories were made on this adventure that will last longer than a lifetime and I owe it mostly to UWC and Wild Idaho Outfitters. I ask next time you hunt (deer/elk/grouse/pheasant/bear/etc.) do it with those you know/love the most. Those are truly the times you will remember.

Thanks!


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## JuddCT (Sep 7, 2007)

Sorry, you have to scroll over to see all of the pics. Enjoy!


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## svmoose (Feb 28, 2008)

Sounds like a good time. Thanks for taking the time to share it with us!


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## sawsman (Sep 13, 2007)

Great story Judd! Sounds like an awesome reunion and adventure despite the missed shots.

Memories with family forever, that's what it's all about.

Great pictures, thanks for sharing.


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## Bears Butt (Sep 12, 2007)

That was one of the finest stories I have ever read in my life! Thank you for sharing! And congrats to all of you. Great time! A personal thanks to the outfitters and UWC for making it happen!


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## JERRY (Sep 30, 2007)

Sounds like the hunt of a lifetime and everyone returned safely. 8) Very fine post!


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## jahan (Sep 7, 2007)

That was an awesome read, I wish we could put it in the Big Game section where more people could enjoy it.


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## bullsnot (Aug 10, 2010)

Thanks for sharing Chris. Made my day reading it.


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## Bax* (Dec 14, 2008)

jahan said:


> That was an awesome read, I wish we could put it in the Big Game section where more people could enjoy it.


 :lol:


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## klbzdad (Apr 3, 2012)

Great story and pics JuddCT! Memories are the best of trophies especially with our fathers! Good work on the post!


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