I was ecstatic! After 3 years of chasing bears and coming away empty handed I had finally spotted a black brute skulking through the brush. Throughout the early spring I had stumbled through substantial evidence that bears did exist in this area; thirteen steaming piles of evidence to be exact. Several of the scat piles left me wondering what kind of Sasquatch had left them. These monstrosities rose from the ground like the Andes Mountains and brought quivers of excitement and fear to my bones!

Now, as I sat in my homemade tree stand like a chameleon in my camo, I caught fleeting glances of the black shadow moving closer to my stand. I brought my rifle up into position waiting for the perfect moment. Suddenly, the bear appeared in a break in the undergrowth and I nearly soiled my britches. This beast was a mammoth. In all the trophy pictures I had lusted after like an Eskimo in an ice pick shop I had never seen such an animal. His head was broader than Troy Polamalu’s shoulders and his gut drug like ape knuckles on the ground. His gait could be likened to a goose waddle and his thick coat was shimmering evidence of his prime health.

I scoped in, doing a poor job of containing the excitement that was spilling out of me. With the confidence of a fawn taking its first step I squeezed the trigger and felt the recoil of the 7mm08 rifle against my shoulder. The bullet made a resounding THUNK as it slammed into the REAR END of the bear. He responded to my bullet like he was stung by a bee. He roared out an angry yelp and started swatting his own backside. I quickly realized my rushed shot resulted in an angry monster. With a testosterone-infused IQ I raised my rifle back up and delivered another hasty wallop to the raging giant only to watch in horror as my second shot stung his rear right next to my initial shot!

I now sat in a haze as my world slowed down and the bear fixed on my position. His jaws were chomping in his frenzied ire and his roar echoed from the depths of his barrel-like chest. His eyes clouded over with blood-lust as he charged my tree. I white-knuckled my tree-stand as I felt the Douglas fir shudder under the attempted takedown of the Velasquez-like boar. Not to be outdone he spun around and rammed his claws deep into the meat of the neighboring tree and raced up the trunk. Dread filled my heart as his roaring jaws appear just two feet from my face.

The seasoned face of the black monster seemed to smirk at me as he lunged forward with his Incredible-Hulk-like paws, grabbing at my face and body. My heart had already pounded its way out of my chest and left me to fend for myself. His paws appeared to pass right through me with his Ali-like jabs. In my terror I quickly shifted in my tree stand and realized with dismay that I stepped right off the edge of the stand. Time slowed down as I fell backward. In those brief moments I realized I was in for some serious pain as I rushed to the inevitable end: the ground floor. Added to the dreadfulness of my impending death was the fleeting sight of the bear descending the tree.

SLAM! Instantly the woods melted away and I was staring into blackness. As I groped around I grasped the edge of the bed and realized I was sitting in a heap of blankets on my bedroom floor next to my bed. I sat up, my heart was racing, and a cold sweat was on my brow. As confusion changed to clarity my fear began to transform into a smile. Had I really fallen out of my bed? Was I really dreaming of bears? Yet, it is the middle of bear season and my thoughts have been on little else. Sure, I had only dreamed up this monster bear but as I sat there in a pile on the floor my heart started to swell with vim and vigor. Surely there is a bear for me out there!