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BEARCAMP ENDS with a FLARE

Written by Sherri Dussome

Last year I got my first taste of bear camp. This year it would be the whole enchilada - an entire month. As I loaded my Explorer the excitement mounted. Max and Bo saw their doggy dishes, leashes, and beds being carted off and were ecstatically leaping around in anticipation. Finally, fully loaded, with two dogs bedded down in the back seat, I was on my way north. The two hour trip would land me in the Flatbush/Chisholm area in the northern boreal forest of Alberta. Greg had left several days ago to help set up camp and would meet me there. After dreaming of this day for months, it was finally happening - I was off to BEARCAMP!

It was Friday, May 4th. The new green had just begun to emerge. Normally with the unseasonably warm weather we were having spring leaves and grass would have begun to decorate the monotoned landscape long before now. We were, however, having an extremely dry year and the lack of moisture combined with the fact that there had been absolutely no spring runoff as there had been almost no snow during the winter months, hampered the new growth. A fire ban had been issued weeks back which meant that we could not operate the wood burning stoves in the outfitters' tents; nor could we have a campfire in the evening. Propane would have to suffice for heating the tents this year. It would take a good two to three day downpour before any fire bans would be lifted. May is a rainy month. Surely the fire ban would be lifted long before bear camp was over.

As I turned off the paved highway and headed onto the gravel, instantly, as if an alarm clock had sounded, Bo and Max sat up and took notice. They have gone on enough excursions to know that once you hit the gravel road, the good times are not far away. I lowered their windows so they could stick their heads out and slowed down considerably. My, but it was dusty. As we turned north through the large yellow gates and onto the lease road, the dust subsided somewhat as the gravel lessened and the ruts increased. I now slowed down even more so I could watch for wildlife. Once past the grazing lease and the gas plant, the forest closed in bordering the edges of the narrow dirt road. Two muleys stood beside a half dried pond at the side of the road and snowshoe rabbits in various stages of turning brown, hopped back and forth in front of me. As I neared camp, I saw a black spot to the right of the road. I didn't have the binoculars handy so kept going very slowly hoping that I would not be detected. Before long, I saw the spot move. It was a black bear. He crossed the road and disappeared into the thick underbrush. "Hmmm", I thought, "He's a little too close to camp for comfort. But I guess that's why it's called Bear Camp!"

..........

WEEK ONE
I arrived at camp to find many familiar faces. Although hunting did not start until Monday, already three yearly hunters had arrived and were helping the outfitters and guides set up TENTTOWN. This year a new site had been chosen as last year's pond was a mere puddle. The sleeping tents were tucked back into the forest on the west side of camp while the "Roadkill Cafe" and the "Liar's Lounge" were on the north end of the pond. The cook's tent and my crafts tent were both on the east side of the pond along with the shower. At the far end of the pond an area for skinning bear had been set up. Everything was ready to go and all were very pleased with this new location.
On Sunday the remainder of week one's hunters arrived and Monday the hunting commenced. And what a week it was. Only one hunter left without a trophy and that was only because of a missed shot. Two book bears were taken and two that fell short of book by under an inch.

The weather stayed sunny but windy. The dust grew and blew. The mossy moist forest floor became dry and crispy. Where it was once difficult to take a quad, two wheel drives were going without a problem. Many watering holes had completely dried up and others were nearly dry. We were all pleased that it did not rain as the roads would have turned to a slick, sticky gumbo.

In the evenings I would take Bo and Max for a truck ride - a much needed rest for them as they near wore off their legs chasing squirrels and rabbits and one cow moose that seemed to be very curious about camp. While they slept I would go watch the whitetail and muleys and hope to see a bear or two. One evening I left Bo and Max at camp and took the cook, the cook's helper, and one hunter's wife with me. We drove to the nearby bait stash where the guides had encountered a medium-sized black bear while loading their bait, parked and waited. We hadn't been there five minutes when we heard a noise in the brush. A black bear walked out, proceeded straight down the road, and turned into the bait stash area. He sat down and groomed himself for a while constantly checking the surrounding area. Usually that indicates that there is a much larger bear in the area. Feeling secure, he got up and headed straight for us. He came to within twenty feet of our truck. At this point I decided he was close enough and started to talk to him in a calm but loud voice. He stopped and looked at us and then decided to detour around our vehicle to get to the stash. Once there, he commenced to put on quite a show for the ladies. He climbed on the trailer and summersaulted off, stood up and checked out a large barrel, and finally headed for the donuts. Time to end our excursion. I started the engine and scared him off. The guides would not be happy cleaning up after him if he ripped the donut bags open! In all, he entertained us for twenty minutes or more. The next day the bait stash was moved to a new location. That guy would have to go to a bait barrel from then on - no more smorgasbord for him!

WEEKTWO
New hunters - three fellows from Chicago, one from Montana, and return hunter from Pennsylvania. On Monday night, first night out, three bears were shot. Busy, busy night! One of the bears was a blond with cinnamon tips. Magnificent coat. Another was a chocolate with a white v on its chest. Once again it was a dry week. We were fortunate enough to have clear skies and the northern lights danced in the midnight sky. The dust on the roads was horrendous and the quadders returned to camp in various shades of grey. The shower became a very popular spot!
WEEKTHREE
The final week of hunting started out on a good note. Monday night the two new hunters returned to camp with a silver wolf and a chocolate bear. Although other wolves had been sighted, that was the only one taken this season at the camp. Tuesday night was extremely windy and although some bears came into the baits, only one was taken. On Wednesday night another black bear was taken. So far a great week.

Thursday morning we awoke to the smell of smoke, and ashes like large snowflakes were falling intermittently through the warm May air. Immediately the forestry was called and we were informed and that sparks from a train had started a small fire during the night. We were to be notified if the fire came close to camp. We continued on as usual. Greg busied himself taking down my tent and intended to also take down a few others since there were now only three hunters left in camp. They were at the south end of the pond watching as last evening's black bear was skinned out. The mid day meal, which by smell promised to be the best pork roast in Alberta, was only minutes away from perfection. The wind was blowing out of the north and we kept watch on the sky which constantly changed hues as the day progressed. I took out the camera and took picture after picture as the sky displayed what looked like a sunset in the north. Suddenly, Greg yelled, "Sherri, look at that." and pointed straight up. The sun had turned into a large scarlet ball surrounded by dark smoke. He laid down on his back and pointed the camera straight up and snapped some pictures. The landscape had taken on a yellowish glow very similar to wearing yellow sunglasses. The evergreens looked turquoise and the new green took on a brilliant hue. It was remarkable.

We still had had no word from the forestry so assumed we were not in any danger. Then, just as dinner was about to be served, the call came. "GETOUTNOW". The scramble began. Whatever was loose and could be easily grabbed, was. The trucks were loaded and all the client's things were gathered up as quickly as possible. Within a few minutes we were ready to leave.

The camp is located in an area where there are many gas plants and active wells. There is only one route out. If the fire had blocked off that road we weren't quite sure what action would have to be taken. Greg told me to go ahead as my truck was fully loaded. He would stay on and help drive the quads into the pond and then leave with the last vehicle. I was not pleased with his decision but headed off without him. I was the lead vehicle and believe me I moved! Never have I driven those rocky rutted roads so quickly. As I rounded the corner that headed west toward the gas plant, my heart sank. From the look of the sky, I thought the fire was already there. I heaved a sigh of relief as I drove by the plant - no fire. Once on the main gravel road which lead to the highway, I felt a little more at ease.
There were ashes and burned pine needles falling around, but no fire in sight. Overhead, planes and helicopters buzzed.

Finally I reached the highway! What a relief.

I was quite shaken by the whole experience as I had no idea of the fire's exact location so didn't know what to expect. We were very fortunate in that we were allowed back in the next day to get our gear out.

The fire did not burn down the camp but it did wipe out the entire town of Chisholm and many of the other small towns in the area were either evacuated or put on standby for evacuation.

The Chisholm fire burned over 400 square miles of the boreal forest and surrounding farm land, and took over 1000 fire fighters (some brought in from other Provinces) to battle. Once a muskeg area catches fire, it burns underground as well as above and is very difficult to fight. Sometimes it will smolder and flare up for years.
Being that close to a forest fire of that magnitude is an experience I will long remember and it certainly ended bear camp with a very unusual flare.



Outdoor Adventure Archives:
 
 
  Bear Encounters of the Close Kind - by - Del Albright  
  Bison with a Bow   
  Golf ball Buck - by Lon Sherman  
  Hunter turned Prey - by Beatrice Daily Huser  
  Lost - a Tall Tale  
  Unexpected Company - by Sherri Dussome  
  Grizzly Attack - by Earl Shelsby  
  Fishing the BIG ONES at Kasba - by by Sherri Dussome  
       


 


06/02/10