When I heard those words, a surge of energy went through me. It went through all of us. Since Billy had started the truck and made a move to turn around when I spotted the bear, we needed to get in a better position to shoot. The bear was 600 yds away and closing, coming right down a dirt path down the side of a pipeline clearing. Lucky for me, the hill was terraced ,and in a few steps, the bear disappeared from sight when he reached the highest one. Instantly, Billy turned toward the hill and moved closer to the bottom. The bear reappeared faster than we thought. But I was in position to shoot as soon as he got in range. I was ready.

"I think that may be a grizzly," stated my guide. What? The bear was that big and the right color, but I was not expecting him to say that. I swiped my binoculars back from my dad because now I had to look. When I finally saw him my jaw dropped. "That aint no grizzly. That's a huge cinnamon bear." I retorted back. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. This was what I came to Alberta for. This is what i've always wanted since I first ever thought about black bear hunting. And in a few moments I was about to get my shot at the biggest one i'd ever seen.

As I watched this huge bruin lumber along, he came over the second little rise and saw the elk that were feeding below. The elk saw him too, and what happened next I replayed in my head everyday for the next month. Two of the bigger elk suddenly charged at this bear, my bear. The bear stopped on and turned on a dime, obviously surprised by their move at him. He wheeled and hauled ass through the barbed-wire fence and hid behind some trees, ready to climb up if his attackers came any closer. I watched as he stood up behind a big spruce trunk and peeked his head out to see what his pursuers were doing. Well they had already turned around and left, but he acted puzzled by what had just happened. He slowly got back down and sniffed around before heading into the forest to disappear from my life forever.

We sat there for 30 minutes in silence, almost in disbelief that my almost sure chance at a tremendous bear had been dashed so quickly. We were all hoping that he'd come back out but he was gone.

Nobody ever tells you what to do when you miss the big one.

What you do is realize that this is what makes hunting great. The big ones shouldn't be easy to get and theyy never are, and that what makes finally getting that trophy a moment you'll cherish for a lifetime. That what keeps hunters awakke at night. Keeps them coming back year after year. For the mere chance that they may stumble into the same situation that I was in, no matter how it turns out.

I hope I get the same chance next time...

When I took one last look up the hill, a dark brown shape emerged, topped the slope and started down a dirt path that lead right toward us. "What just came over the hill," I asked my guide Billy. "Is that another elk?" It looked like an elk because of the dark chocolate color against the dim surroundings since the sun had set. And there were already 3 of them feeding halfway down the right-of-way. "No it's a bear," Billy said back, "A pretty BIG bear."

The only time in my whole 5 day hunt that I suggested to my guide where to go and what to do. I was tired of riding around and suggested that we head back to camp early and park the truck so we could watch the hill and nearby meadows as it got dark. I needed to be back in town by ten o'clock and I wanted to sit for awhile.