For the first time in my life, I went hunting. Unless you count the time in Florida when I rode around on a 4 wheeler in pursuit of wild boar for maybe an hour, then yes, this is a first. (BTW, we did not see a boar.) Who would choose bear hunting for their maiden voyage, you ask? Only the wife of Gary Morgan.
https://youtube.com/shorts/Ep-LKGtQEWA
Apparently for several years, Gary would submit for preference points for bear hunting on my behalf. Initially unknown to me, he had hopes that I would at some point express interest in just such a venture. And it came to pass that a year into retiring to the great north, I let down my guard for a minute and he seized upon this moment of weakness, actually making public on his webpage/blog this limp profession from my lips. I was feeling this “living off the land” sort of vibe due to a few successful fishing outings, which spurred these now infamous words… “I think I might like to go bear hunting.” Was it watching a few too many episodes of the series “Alone” with all those badass women making their way in the wilderness? Perhaps. Whatever the deep seated reason for this impulsive statement, his excitement was such that I couldn’t take it back. And I have to admit, I’ve been curious about this world that seems to consume Gary at this time of year, and well before if we’re being honest.
So the plan is set in motion, as I’m told I have enough points for a bid on the second hunt of the season in the Newberry unit. I apply and a month or so later learn that I’m in! Now the concerns begin. Can I really do this if presented with the opportunity? More importantly, could I ever sit silently still for such great lengths of time? We would soon find out. I had very limited experience with a gun, but the few times I had fired one, I seemed to be pretty accurate. I couldn’t even tell you what kind of guns I’d fired on those few infrequent occasions. The one I remember most is when I was in the 7th grade. I think it was a BB gun I was using to shoot at soda cans for a target. I don’t know what possessed me, but l turned and said to my friend… “Hey, I wonder if I could hit that bird up there?” I honestly never thought in a million years that I would hit the bird on the telephone line. If I did, I never would have made the attempt. You can tell by how I’m framing this that it did not end well for the poor little bird. I ran to the house crying, as my mother comforted me. I was later told that it was a Grosbeak and that it was illegal to shoot one. Hopefully the statute of limitations has run out on such a crime as I make this public confession 50 years later. I did take Hunter’s safety in the 9th grade, but other than that, that’s all I’ve got for experience.
As you might imagine, I’m feeling less than ready for such an endeavor as hunting a bear. Knowing I would have my husband as my personal guide and outfitter in the blind with me brings some peace of mind. Gary took me to the shooting range a few times where I practiced shooting at 50 yards with a .30-06. For my final practice session, John Jones offered to take me to the range just before my arrival to Bear Camp 2025, as Gary was already in the U.P. with his hunters in full swing. Thanks John!
I arrive at bear camp, the only female in the second hunt, with high hopes, though likely not the same expectations as the avid hunter. My goal is to see bears up close, observing their natural behavior. I am hoping to see a mom and her cubs for the icing on the cake. As a retired OB nurse, this would bring me special joy! However, once in the blind, as the minutes and then hours ticked away, the desire to actually take home a trophy starts to fill me. I like to complete tasks and take on new challenges. I am getting “The Fever.” How would this play out? Would I get a good shot at an acceptable target? Would I have the courage? I mean, I’d caught and cleaned plenty of fish, right? Time would tell. And it would take a lot of time. (I am slowly going crazy, 1 2 3 4 5 6 SIT!… Crazy going slowly crazy, 6 5 4 3 2 1 SIT!) I never knew I could sit silently for so long. One becomes restless and stiff, and my “sit upon” was taking the brunt here. With all this time on my hands, I decide to pray over lots of what’s going on in our lives near and far, focusing on gratitude for all that is around me, down to the details. I practice my relaxed breathing, which might be helpful if the moment to pull the trigger ever arrives. One of my prayers is for God to send us something safely exciting to see. He sends us ravens and squirrels, and on the third night, this expands to a skunk and a Barred Owl. (That was kinda cool.) So I learn how to occupy my mind for long, still stretches, a skill not historically easy for me.
Then I get to thinking about what happens if I do shoot a bear? How do we get it out of here, after all, we walked a long ways back in the woods over somewhat rugged terrain. I suppose that’s when the real work begins, though guides spend countless hours hiking many miles baiting these sites repeatedly long before the hunt. Guides surely share in the glory bestowed upon the victorious hunter, as they often go to ridiculous extremes to provide this opportunity. I do have a bit of an inside track having heard the many stories over the years from Gary. And now I’m just one more hopeful, awaiting a chance to end this adventure with an exclamation point!
Author with her view from the ‘bear blind’ utilizing Caldwell Shooting Rest.
And so I wait and watch and listen. I really enjoy walking out to our blind, but even more, the walk back out of the woods at night. Seeing the glowing tacks creating a trail through the woods, combined with the amazing smells of the forest in the evening is exhilarating. It is a relief to finally be up and moving. I’m also anticipating a nice meal that will be ready when we get back to the cabin, prepared by some great guys who have the patience to help Gary out during this crazy time of year.
After day 4, my hunt comes to an end and I move into “Camp Cook” mode for this season. I’m told I can hunt until October 26, but my personal guide is far too busy with his clients for this, and I need to move! Maybe I’ll come back for a day or two after trout stream fishing season ends, depending on the weather, though the bears may already be in and out of slumber. The good news is, I made it out 4 evenings in a row without going crazy, though that may be up for debate. Unfortunately, I was not to see a bear on this adventure, but have to admit I enjoyed this up close look at Bear Camp. Perhaps I now have a better understanding of my husband’s life during this season.
Bear camp is a temporary home to several unsung heroes known as guides. Sometimes their names may even be forgotten shortly after what was the pinnacle of a hunter’s year at the time. But some of these hunters not only remember. They come back for more, and later join the guide side of this season as they forge life long bonds over a common love of the outdoors and this “not for the faint of heart” sport. So join me, if you will, in raising a glass, a beer, or even a cup of coffee to this special breed of outdoorsmen. Kill or no kill, most of us have no clue as to what goes on behind the scenes. I just had a peek.
- A Glimpse Of Bear Camp - October 4, 2025
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