We gobbled up the last of the eggs and bacon and made one final push up the river. We hiked to the head of the river where the Johnson Glacier ends and the Johnson River begins. It was a six mile trip - one way - but we had nothing to lose.

The old ewe that let me get very close for pictures.

Both of us had given up on the hunting and were just enjoying the scenery. We came upon an old dall sheep ewe that let me get a few yards away. I snapped some pictures then left her alone. Stan assumed that she was old, and probably ready to die. On our 12-mile round trip we saw no bears, nor bear sign the entire way. In my mind, the trip was over.

Weary, we ate our last freeze-dried dinner and a cheescake Stan had made up the day before. Despite our lack of success we were both in good spirits. Heck, this is what bowhunting's about. I was satisfied. We had hunted hard and made the right moves. The bears were just not here, not in the numbers we had expected anyway.

We discussed our options: spend the last evening checking out the pea vine area a short distance from camp, or just pack it in for good. We both decided to make one last-ditch effort for our last night. We had nothing to lose except sleep.

The sand flats behind camp - where it happened - suddenly

I grabbed my pack frame and we headed in back of camp on the flats. There was a series of dry sand bars that snaked through the brush. We found more bear sign, much of it was fresh. Stan tried calling with a distress call. After a half hour of no response we continued on, still-hunting through the brush. We crossed a couple of streams as we quietly made our way towards a distant bluff. We would glass the flat from there.

Suddenly, Stan stopped dead in his tracks, then whispered:

"There's a bear - right in front of us"

I moved in front of Stan - quickly removing an arrow from my quiver.

This was unbelievable. After all the time and effort during the last two weeks, we just happen upon a large grizzly in back of our camp.

The bear was 10-12 yards away. I could hear him digging the soft soil. No shot, he was behind an alder. Stan needed to chamber a round. In a few moments all hell would break loose and he needed to be ready. I watched the bear - just a few yards from me. He had no idea we were standing there, in the open, on the other side of that bush.

Until Stan's round chambered, and made an unnatural "cha-chick" sound.

The head of the boar rose quietly from the ground - and stared right at me.

He stared at me - just 12 yards away... - it was an image I will never forget.

I often wondered how Fred Bear did it. How he stayed composed when he was that close to a grizzly. But remarkably, I was dead calm. Focused. My only thought was about shot placement and waiting for just the right moment. I've been more nervous waiting for a doe/fawn to come into a treestand than I was with this grizzly staring at me. I simply can't explain it.

The beady eyes of that bear continued to stare me down. He quietly turned and headed out towards our trail. I had a good angle but there was more brush in the way. I began my draw, then anchored, as the head of the big bear cleared the brush. I let his neck come out and got ready to release. His body emerged - the vitals were in the clear. He lunged at the second I released. The arrow missed clean behind him.

I have seen whitetails jump string before but nothing moved like this bear did out of the bushes. There was no way anyone could have made the shot unless they anticipated the bears' reaction. We both stood there, then started laughing. My dream of bowhunting grizzlies had been realized. It was a bummer that I missed but that's bowhunting. My shot was right on - the bear just wasn't there any longer.

We measured the track, which came in at 6 ½ inches. Stan figured him to be an 8' bear. He was big for an interior grizzly. His running stride between his right, back, foot was 11'.

We continued onto the bluff and sat there jabbering and laughing about our luck. I had my shot. I was happy.

Stan then noticed the caribou running down river. What were the odds? Another grizzly was walking down the banks of the river. This one was another nice bear but he was on the wrong side of the river. He disappeared from sight. We just shook our heads and laughed some more. This was too much to handle.

Watch the video of the caribou and the grizzly on the other side of the river (1.4mb)

It was now just before midnight. What happens next, on camera, needs to be watched rather than described here?

Watch this video...(1mb)

Continued on day 14.