A Bear, a Motorcycle, and a Big Slice of Humble Pie

I was given my first hunting magazine subscription as a present for my 9th birthday, the culmination of months spent begging for it.  I was eager to immerse myself in the hunting world, and I can still recall the countless hours spent as a youth reading about the hunting adventures of Jack O’Connor, Jim Zumbo, and Fred Bear.  Growing up, it was all I wanted to do & all I ever wanted to talk about.  In my late teens the fever only intensified - so when I was offered a job as a guide from an outfitter in Western Montana I was fully willing to pay them for the opportunity and took it.  One of the regular guides had to withdraw from the bow season on short notice, and I was in the right place at the right time - so several weeks later I found myself sitting atop a horse on the trail into base camp.  At 19 years old, I was eager to prove I was twice my actual age and had more experience than the calendar would allow.  I always admired how tough Jack O’Connor looked with his hat, so when I arrived on the back of my steed wearing a brand new Bailey cowboy hat, I was confident I looked the part.  Johnny, the outfitter, saw clean through the facade.  “Well…look at you!” he chided as I dismounted, with just enough edge to make me wonder how he meant it.  I took it in stride and paid no notice, after all - how would John Wayne have reacted?

Now a for a little inside information: I have a wonderful “condition” called Rapid Eye Movement Sleep Behavior Disorder that has lent itself to many a good story and dramatically undermines the prior mentioned masculinity.  Essentially, it’s chronic sleep walking & talking.  It leaves me completely unable to discern reality from dreams while in the act of illustrating my dream.  Hilarious, no?  The one thing that tends to aggravate it is nervousness and sleep deprivation.  Hunting guides rarely get a full nights’ rest, and anxiety is the name of the game when trying to get your client an elk.  The stage was perfectly set for a manifestation, I was essentially a ticking time bomb.  That bomb detonated in glorious fashion just 3 days later - barely half way through my first week.  

We had a full camp of hunters from New York, including a Ford executive I was extremely intimated by.  He was understandably suspect of the abilities a 19 year old guide could bring to the table, so guiding him was…difficult.  Myself and another guide named Ryan (a beast of a man) were relegated to sleeping in the horse feed tent atop sweetened oats, so when a grizzly bear arrived in camp on the 2nd night in camp and tore apart our archery target, it really added to the tension.  Laying there on 100 pounds of bear bait listening to the commotion right outside my tent flap was less than enjoyable.  While the night passed without further incident, it also passed without a wink of rest.

The next day was exhausting, and I was dead on my feet.  Somehow I made it through the day, and when nightfall came I was downright excited to climb up on top of those bags of oats and catch up on some much needed sleep.  The last thing that went through my foggy mind as I closed my eyes was wondering if that bear would eat me that night.  And into my dreams I drifted.

Somewhere in my subconscious, I found myself awakening suddenly.  Something had brushed against the tent…something…huge.  I sat up, breathing hard.  “Hello?  Hello?” I whimpered into the dense, dark air.  I fumbled in the dark for my flashlight, but predictably couldn’t find it.  In the midst of my futile efforts, I heard the unmistakable huff of a bear outside my tent.  Full blown panic crept into my soul as the gravity of the situation sunk in.  The bear suddenly unleashed a blood curling roar and charged into the tent.  I leapt to my feet and stumbled backward, desperately trying to escape the confines of my shared wall tent.  “Get out of here, bear!” I screamed in desperation over and over again.  I somehow managed to fall backward out of the tent and scramble into the absolute darkness of the forest outside.  Standing amid the pines, all fell silent.  I wracked my brain, trying to think of a way to either fight the bear or scare it off.  Suddenly, a saving grace appeared before…a motorcycle!  I jumped on the seat, pulled out the kickstarter and I kicked that motorcycle like my very life depended on it.  It wouldn’t start!  Desperate, I kicked harder.  Between kicks, the sound of movement rustling in the bushes approached.  Then my moment of brilliance arrived.  The bear would surely run from the sound of the motor!  I didn’t have to escape, I just had to make the bear THINK I had started the motorcycle!

Confident in the last ditch effort to save my own life, I summoned up every ounce of lung volume I could muster and bellowed out the best 2 stroke motor imitation I had ever heard.  “Vaaaah dah DING DING DING DING DING!!!”  I even revved the sucker up, sure it would strike terror into the heart of the bear. “Dah DING DING DING!  MUAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!”  My perfectly tuned exhaust imitation echoed in the silence, exuding horsepower at every note.

Then I felt myself being shaken violently.  Had the bear caught me???  But I’m on a motorcycle!!  Then the shouting began, distant at first, but getting louder.  Then came the unmistakable force of a solid slap to the face that practically wiped the dream right off my brain.  There I stood, in my wall tent…with my tent mate and fellow guide Ryan staring at me, bewildered.  “What the **** is the matter with you?!” he shouted.  

Then the grim reality set it.  “Ugggghhhh….I can’t believe I….wow…I’m so sorry…”  I muttered.  From the tent beside us where the outfitter Johnny and his wife slept, Johnny hollered “Jared, if you’re scared you can come sleep between us in our bed!”  The entire camp erupted in laughter.   The ENTIRE camp.  I had awoken everyone.  Words cannot even begin to describe the shame I felt as I laid back down…or the jeering I was rightfully subjected to the next morning when I arrived in the cook tent.  My humble pie made a terrible breakfast.  If you’re ever running from a bear and you find yourself a motorcycle, don’t try to start it.  Just let that bear eat you, it’ll be far less humiliating in the morning.

The morning following my "incident", one of the hunters I was guiding suggested I give him my toughest looking face I could muster for his own photo log of the hunt.
Apparently, he wanted to remember what a "tough guy" looked like that still had nightmares.  I did my best to play along.  And yeah, that's my brand new Bailey hat.

2013: A Year In Review

At the end of the year it's only natural to think back on the events that have transpired over the course of the last 12 months.  This year has been one for the record books for me, and even though there were goals that I didn't attain, there were so many more that I did.  At the end of such a great year, it seemed only fitting to highlight some of my best memories.  Looking back, it's so evident how truly blessed I am - and how incredibly patient my wife is to let me do these things.  Each picture has an even more vivid and vibrant memory attached to it, and I'm so grateful for the opportunity to share these memories and pictures with you.  This year I also crossed a big mark on this site - in December I surpassed 2,000 page views in a month for the first time.  For most sites that is a very small number, but for this backwoods Idaho boy, that's huge.  I appreciate very deeply each one of you that reads these articles.  Your kind words mean more to me than you ever know, and it keeps me hungry to keep at it.  With such an incredible year in 2013, if 2014 even comes close to it I'll count myself a very lucky man.

My archery elk.  It was an incredible 6 day hunt in some beautiful country near Island Park.  Read the full story here: Something to Prove

New personal best wild steelhead on the Salmon River - a beautiful 36" hen.

New personal best hatchery steelhead on the Salmon River - a THICK 31" buck.  Watch for my upcoming steelhead article in March!

The one that got away.  I affectionately named this bear "Houdini" for his unnatural knack to escape me.  He's still out there...

New personal best brown, through the ice no less!  A very stout 27" 8 pounder!  Now if only I could find him with the fly rod!

I have come to believe it's more rewarding helping others fulfill their goals.  Here's my good friend 
Tony Frustaci with his new personal best trout - a real whopper of a rainbow on the fly!

I was lucky enough to take my good friend Jordan Tubbs on his first elk hunt - and then lucky enough
to help him pack out his first elk!  Beautiful 6 point bull on a general season public land hunt!

New personal best trout - 28" and a whopping 10 pounds.  The girth on this hen was incredible!

Definitely not my biggest turkey to date - but with the population down dramatically in my unit, I was happy to have him!

I was lucky enough to tag team this behemoth sturgeon with a couple good friends with strong arms.
My biggest yet at 7' 3" and over 225 pounds!  He even broke the rod on the way in!

My proudest moment all year, and one that will remain my entire life - the birth of my beautiful 
new baby girl, Chloe KristiAnne.  Everything pales compared to being there as she came into the world.

With 2013 in books, I can't express enough how excited I am for 2014!  I look forward to many more adventures in the most wild places I can find.  Thank you again for playing along!

Gear Review: Cabela's Perfekt 10" Hunter Boots by Meindl

Finding the perfect boot for hunting is no small task. Luckily for us consumers, the marketplace is incredibly diverse and competitive, and with the ease by which reviews and customer ratings (such as this one) are found online - it would seem relatively easy to get yourself into a great pair of boots. I do not deny this. However, as a budget conscious hunter that can't afford a different pair of boots for every situation - I had one silver bullet to throw at new footwear. My requirements were simple: I needed a boot that provided adequate ankle & foot support for treacherous terrain while carrying heavy packs without compromising flat ground comfort, waterproof, durable, and most importantly - versatile. I wanted a boot that could be worn while hunting mulies in early September or elk in late November.  A tall order, no doubt.  Enter the subject of this article: the Cabela's "Perfekt 10" Hunter Boot by Meindl.

Here are the specs for the Perfekt 10" Hunter Boot as provided by the Cabelas website:

• Ideal all-around big-game hunting boot
• Cork molds to your foot for custom support
• Multigrip rubber outsoles offer no-slip traction on loose terrain
• 100% waterproof, breathable GORE-TEX membranes
• 400-gram Thinsulate Ultra Insulation
• 10" height
• Leather Construction
• Weight 4.4 lbs

I'll call out the two elephants in the room immediately - the weight, and the insulation. For an all-around hunting boot, I typically prefer an uninsulated boot because I find most of my hunting takes place in September and October when the temperatures are more mild. For the later months it's easy to add a layer of wool socks and get the warmth that I need. I was hesitant about the 400 grams of Thinsulate Insulation. With advancements in full length warm weather sock materials and the assurance of multiple salespeople that it wouldn't be an issue - I went for it. The other elephant is the weight of these boots.  Weighing in at 4.4 lbs, they're over half a pound heavier than other boots I was considering - such as the Kenetrek Mountain Extreme, the Cabela's Denali Hunting Boots by Meindl, or the Danner Ridgemaster Boots. The insulation is a big part of this, but weight is weight. 

After speaking with several trusted sources and pouring over review after review - I steered away from the Kenetrek boots for one simple reason: consumers either absolutely loved them or completely hated them. They were simply too polarizing to throw over $400 at compared to the other two options in the $280 range.  I eliminated the Danner boots for several reasons - I simply couldn't find a Danner boot that fit my foot exactly the way I wanted it to, they weren't as robust and allowed to much torsional movement on the sole, and they didn't provide a heel locking lace like the Kenetrek & Meindl boots did (evidenced by a further back set lace studs located between the ankle and to of the foot which helps anchor the heel back in the heel pocket). While the Denali boots were more comfortable initially, they provided less ankle support and weren't as sturdy as the Perfekt boot, so I elected to buy the Perfekt 10's.

My boots arrived the first of April, so I had two full weeks to break them in prior to the first hunt of the year - my week long mountain turkey hunt.  This hunt takes place in some surprisingly rough terrain with timber choked steep canyons between rolling grassy knolls - a perfect proving ground for both my new Eberlestock backpack & my new boots.  Mid April in that part of the state, even with moderate elevations, can still be a cold proposition - deep snow and sub freezing temperatures are the norm, so it proved to be a good test of warmth as well.  For the maiden voyage into the mountains I paired them with Smartwool Hike Ultra Light socks.  Temperatures consistently hovered in the low 20's in the early morning hours (even dipping into the low teens on 2 of the days) and climbed into the mid 40's during the daytime.  Even with only a lightweight merino wool sock, my feet never got cold once despite many frigid mornings waiting for turkeys to fly the roost in the pre-dawn darkness.  They performed flawlessly.

After 5 long days and countless miles with sparse turkey action, this jake felt taking like the biggest tom in the woods.

The heel locking lace studs ensure there is absolutely NO heel movement, even when hiking up extremely steep grades that can wear your heel raw in no time with a lesser boot.  The cork footbeds did take about 7 days to break in around the house, but I don't mind the break in period when I know the end result is a well fitted and sturdy boot with outstanding torsional support.  The boots do come with an insole spacer, which I initially tossed aside after breaking the boots in for a couple weeks around the house, confident I had a good fit.  My first morning while climbing up and down steep canyons I noted a small amount of heel movement, and luckily I had brought the spacers with me.  After placing the spacer under the main insole I had a PERFECT (or should I say Perfekt?) fit for any terrain.

I have since run these boots through the ringer.  I have thrown every terrain imaginable with every weather condition - in the past 8 months I have logged 50 days and well over 200 miles in the field.  I spent 14 days in Spring bear season packing heavy loads of bait up steep and impenetrably thick undergrowth with temperatures at times soaring into 70's - and with the right sock (I found Under Armour Heat Gear Ignite socks to be best for warm temperatures) my feet didn't overheat 95% of the time. During a grueling 6 day elk hunt in late September I was in either knee high foliage sopping went from incessant rain or ankle deep in snow every step of the way and my feet NEVER got wet or cold - and there's definitely something to be said about the confidence of substantial ankle support provided by these boots when throwing an 80 pound elk quarter on your back to hike out.  On a recent high country archery mule deer hunt when I found myself at 9,000 feet in elevation during late November glassing atop a windswept mountain pass - even after punching throw the ice on a frozen stream and sinking into water ankle deep - I never got cold or wet.  I have found these boots provide outstanding versatility in almost every element, the key is pairing the boot with the right sock for the elements.

On uneven terrain and shale rock they provided enough torsional support to allow me to confidently traverse hillsides that normally would have been far more worrisome for fear of rolling an ankle.  The soles are so rigid that they're uncomfortable on flat ground either, allowing enough flex to make it easy to forget you're wearing a mountain boot.  As I mentioned earlier, I put these to the test as well while packing out 2 large bull elk across steep and unpredictable terrain.  With an elk quarter strapped to your pack, these hikes out can be a minefield - one small misstep can lead to a broken ankle or worse, depending on the terrain.  This is where the rubber really meets the road, and these boots shined.

Mule deer hunting with a bow is one of the most frustrating things on the planet.  This tremendous buck strode
right down my tracks from earlier that day as I watched from afar.  At least my feet weren't cold.

The only two vices I have found thus far with this boot are the weight and overheating in exceptionally warm conditions - both of which I am easily willing to live with given the benefits.  Could weight be saved by going with an uninsulated boot?  Yes, but typically only 6-8 ounces between both boots if you comparing to other 10" tall sturdy leather boots.  Could a synthetic uninsulated boot be better suited to higher temperatures in early season - and lighter as well?  Yes, but the bottom line is this: these are an outstanding choice for 90% of all hunting scenarios, and as for that 10%?  No other boot (I believe) is going to get you 100% for under $300 - and even in the ultra high end price ranges, I seriously doubt it.  You'll just ending up buying a second pair of boots for a different purpose.  All things considered, spending a few hundred bucks on a pair of boots can be a daunting thing - but it's the best money you'll spend to keep you in the field longer.  For my money, I don't see a better boot on the market.

Survival: Part 1

It was late August, the Idaho Archery season had opened the previous day, and I was standing in a burning hot warehouse in Southern Utah working - rather than hunting the high elevation basins I had scouted all summer.  Two months prior I had accepted a new position working for a company that manufactures snorkeling and sport diving equipment based in St. George, Utah.  My first task was to relocate our headquarters closer to where I live in Southern Idaho, and this just happened to coincide with the opening of the Idaho archery season.  This particular Friday I was working alone after hours collapsing excess shipping boxes in our warehouse.  I picked up a large box to break it down, when I heard my speaker system short out and power off unexpectedly.  I glanced over to the corner where it sat on the shipping counter, when in my peripheral vision I saw a flash of tan with black stripes.  An intense stabbing sensation in my right forearm made me yell out in pain and jerk my arms back.  I blinked in disbelief as I saw two small, red beads of blood rise from my forearm.

Two and a half hours later I was sitting on a hospital bed with an IV just starting to pump life saving anti-venom into my blood.  After a frantic search, I had been unable to locate the snake that had bit me - which precipitated a much bigger problem upon arrival at the ER.  The box I was handling had been imported from Thailand, and the ER only had rattlesnake anti-venom.  The ensuing confusion and  time consuming attempts to ID the snake delayed my treatment until it became critical.  For two and a half hours my body wrenched in agony as I felt the venom creeping up my arm towards my chest - two and a half hours without pain killers.  The surface of my skin felt as though I had thrust my entire arm directly into a fire, while the inside of my arm felt a bone crushing, twisting pain that tricked my mind into believing my arm was actually rotating and breaking.

My wife sat beside with a concerned look on her face as I tried to joke my way through the ordeal through clenched teeth.  About 2 minutes after the anti venom entered my system, I felt a rush of nausea hit me like a freight train.  Almost instantly, I felt the blood leave my face and my muscle control faded quickly.  I began telling my wife to call a nurse, but I never finished my sentence.  My system rejected the anti-venom and Anaphylactic Shock set in without mercy.  My vision turned an olive shade of green, and just before it went to black I saw the image of nurses and doctors running towards me.  I blinked intensely, aware that my eyes were still open although I was unable to see.  The alarms sounding from the vital sign monitor connected to me were swallowed up by the deafening ringing in my ears.  I felt my head slump to the side, and I was unable to move it back.  The nurses quickly dropped my bed to the flat position as they slapped my cheeks, trying to get me to come to.  For a moment I had a narrow window of eye sight, and what I saw frightened me.  Several doctors and nurses worked frantically shouting my vital signs to one another and instructions as they injected me with adrenaline.  Between the doctors I was briefly able to see the terrified look on my wife's face as she sat crying with her hand covering her mouth.  That is a look I will never forget.

For a few brief moments, everything went dark.  The pandemonium of the room faded, and there was nothing but silence.  I felt no urge to breathe, no physical urge to force myself back into consciousness.  In those moments, I thought to myself "this is how I die."  My wife crying beside me, the beautiful faces of my children, their soft voices - all of it ran through my mind as I tried to understand that these could be my last moments.

After what seemed an eternity, the madness slowly returned to my senses as small areas in my vision came back.  Even though my eyes had been open throughout the ordeal, I felt as though I had just opened them for the first time.  A rush of blood to my head brought me back to full consciousness almost as abruptly as it had been taken from me.  A doctor standing over me sternly admonished me to breathe, which took great effort to do.  After a deep gasp of air, a wave of relief washed over me and the pain surged back into my arm.  Although the pain was intense, it meant I was no longer in the dark. It wasn't until much later that I learned what had caused my blackout and how truly close to death I had been.  The rapidly progressing systemic shutdowns were signs of early stage cardiac arrest.

The pen markings on my right hand traced the concern areas for Necrosis.  This picture was taken the day before I was released, but the swelling was still visible

The rest of the night was spent recovering in the ICU, accompanied by an astounding 10 vials of anti venom.  That first night was completely sleepless, as the threat of Necrosis was constant.  Throughout that entire night I thought about how my life would change if I lost my arm.  The medical professionals that treated me tried to prepare me for anything, including an amputation.  The damage the venom inflicted over the two and a half hours without treatment was substantial, and I was very aware of the battle I still had to fight.  Had the anti venom been administered within the first hour of my admittance to the hospital, I would have required only 1 - 2 vials and my recovery would be more sure.  I silently resolved that night to not allow any lasting disfigurement or even an amputation change who I was or what I loved to do.  In total, I ended up spending 3 days in the Intensive Care Unit on the mend - but my recovery was nothing short of miraculous.  Family and friends alike prayed for me, and there's no doubt in my mind that it made all the difference.  The morning of the fourth day in the ICU I was released and given a clean bill of health.  Walking out of that hospital, I felt like the most fortunate man alive.

We found the snake a week later, still stuck to the box.  It was a juvenile Great Basin Rattlesnake that had become entangled on the packaging tape left exposed on the side of the box.

My return home was very welcoming - my parents and extended family all gathered to help support me through my ordeal and they were there when I finally came home.  Sitting in my living room, I looked at all those around me in a different way.  Two days later, my arm was out of a sling.  Seven days after I was bitten I drew my bow back for the first time.  Holding at full draw, I laughed aloud in elation.  It required far more effort than normal to focus on the shot and my form, but the moment my first arrow left the string and struck the target downrange, I couldn't help but tear up.  I looked down at the release in my hand that just days ago had been swollen to the point of being unusable; all of my life I had taken such simple things for granted.

One week later and 600 miles away, I stood atop a timbered ridge listening to the cool September breeze whispering through the pines.  The peace that surrounded me was golden.  The evening air was interrupted by the challenge of a bull elk below us in a dense stand of pines.  A smile swept across my face as I turned to look at my father standing beside me.  That sound embodies the very spirit of the wild that defines so much of who I am.  With a nod, I slung my bow over my shoulder and turned towards the dark timber - my feet were light and my hopes high...



To read Part II of the Survival Story - click [here].