Successful Western Hunter: Rich Howarth
I’ve made some good friends through archery, running and online forums. Rich is one of those. We have hunted together, he has beat me in trail races, we have shot together, and we banter back and forth on Sage Creek Forums.
Below is his epic saga. A tale of overcoming obstacles to succeed, that even a motivational speaker would have a hard time topping.
I set off for my 5 day adventure to the place I killed a bear a few years ago. I headed up the trail intending to reach my destination of 7 miles in time to hunt that evening. I don’t recall it being that tough, maybe I’m getting old, but it was a rough haul. I found the whole area burned, even where the stands of timber were still viable, the understory was taken out. That could bode well for the next few years, but I noticed there was no sign the whole way. Previously the trail was littered with bear tracks and scat, now the only track I came across was a big cat (I think).
I set up for the evening but spotted absolutely nothing, nor the next morning. I was pretty discouraged (and tired), but decided it was time to come out and relocate. When I made it out, I made camp at the trailhead and made a new friend. I left my UA heatgear shirt out and hunted out from camp. When I returned, I found the doe trying to make a meal of my shirt — yum, salty.
I got up the next morning and drove another couple of hours to another spot I wanted to check out. I’d not been in there before, but it looked promising, at least on paper. By the time I reached the trail head, I found to my dismay, the trail was closed that morning due to fire. I was starting to feel that I was the victim of a nasty conspiracy. Even so, I decided to take off in the other direction. No map, no idea of the kind of territory, nada. Up the trail, a bunch of weekend hikers were coming out, great, I thought, just what I need are tons of people around. Eventually I made it up to a ridgetop overlooking a small basin. I glassed it until late in the evening and it was not looking positive, no deer, no bears.
I decided to move my vantage point way around the other side and my mind starting wondering if I should just call it a trip. I hadn’t seen didly and it was frustrating me to no end. But I finally persuaded myself to stick it out and see if my luck might change.
I awoke to a gorgeous sunrise and set up to glass. After about an hour and a half, after spotting nothing but a small herd of cattle, I did a double take when a decent sized black bear appeared at the bottom of the basin. It was nearly shear faced at my location and it was going to take me a good 90 minutes to go back around and down to get in position, but the game was on. Packing up my gear, I slowly made my way around to a finger ridge that would take me down to where I thought the bear may be hanging out.
Once I reached the timber, I slowed myself down to still hunt mode and tried to keep the wind in my favor. Before long, I heard a buzzard fly up out of the forest floor. I thought there may be something dead in the area and went to check it out. As soon as I spotted the deer carcass, the bear that was guarding it spotted me and busted out. I stood there silently cussing, but I took out my camera and headed down to take a few snaps. I got 10 steps and the bear busted out again; it had come back and apparently wasn’t ready to give up its meal.
I worked my way back up the hill about 100 yards and sat down to wait for him to return again. I thought it would be an hour or two, but no more than 15 minutes passed before I heard the bear starting to drag the carcass through the brush. I removed my boots and sneaked down the hill. I side-hilled my way above the bear and suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of a bear woofing. I peered into the brush below me and saw the bear looking in my direction and woofed again. I couldn’t see its body clearly, but the head seemed big given the tiny ears. I was thinking this was the bear I spotted that morning. It didn’t appear that it would abandon the deer easily, and although it was only 25 yards away, I could not get a clear lane. After about 10 minutes the bear worked its way back to my left and started feeding again. I maneuvered my way left about 10 yards. There was a bright sun and the shadows were deep and, finally, the bear moved into a spot where there was a gap in the brush about the size of a pie plate with his vitals exposed – 20 yards. I decided to take the shot and settled my top pin in the middle of the gap where I thought was the sweet spot. I let off a smooth release and my arrow zipped through the gap to put the smack down on him.
He roared, did a few spins and took off. He crashed off through the brush and I kept a mark of the last location. After I went back up the hill to collect my things, I went back down to the shot location. Half of my arrow was laying on the ground. I tried to follow the trail, but it was torn up by him dragging the deer around. I searched and searched and found not a single drop of blood. Not good. So, I set out on a grid search to cover the whole basin if I had to, but it only took me an hour to find it.
The bear had definitely lost weight since I last saw it, ground shrinkage was severe. Turns out it was a sow, and not the bear I spotted earlier, about 175 – 180 lbs. The shot was not ideal, I put the FMJ400 with a Hellrazor broadhead right through its shoulder blade. The broken end of the arrow was sticking out and the broadhead ended up just at the edge of it’s chest and was still in perfect condition. Did the job, but it left nary a blood trail.
I was a little surprised at how small she was, but the best thing was I was only 50 yards from the trail. Suhweet.
If any trip convinced me of the value of not to giving up, this was it.
Posted on 11th September 2009
Under: Archery, Bear, California, Successful Western Hunters | No Comments »









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