Derril Lamb of Brunswick, Maine is a veteran bowhunter. To
his bowhunting credit are deer, caribou, black bear, mountain sheep, elk, Cape buffalo,
African lion, and rhinoceros, to name a few. His first grizzly hunt was booked for May of
1986 but in April of that year he suffered a heart attack. One year later, he made the
trip to British Columbia and bagged the largest grizzly bear ever taken with a bow and
arrow. This is his story as told to Russell Thornberry.
Three days of hectic
travel and anxious waiting finally ended when John Blackwell eased the Cessna float plane
down on Moose Lake. The lodge and the log cabins were a welcome sight after a seeming
eternity of international airports and motel rooms. I crossed an entire continent to get
to the remote Upper Blackwater region of central British Columbia, 120 miles west of
Quesnel, on the east side of the Coast Range. My anticipation now spanned a full year
since a heart attack cancelled my original plans to hunt in May of 1986. Due to the
circumstances, John Blackwell graciously honored my deposit and carried it over to 1987.
But that was all in the past and now my first grizzly hunt was finally becoming a reality.
As soon as I stepped on the dock, life slowed down to Blackwell time.
There is no such thing as rushing at Moose Lake, B.C. At least if there is, you'd never
notice. The atmosphere is laid back and relaxed, in delightful contrast to what I had
experienced enroute. I was introduced to John's wife, Mary Lou and their son, Justin who
helps with all aspects of the Blackwell Operation. I also met the newest addition to the
Blackwell family, Kim Blackwell, Justin's wife, who assisted Mary Lou in the kitchen and
baked the most wonderful coffee buns I ever tasted. I immediately felt like one of the
family. That's a great plus in my estimation. The difference between a good hunt and a bad
one is often measured in the way you are treated. Nothing but highest marks for the
Blackwells in this department.
After getting situated in a comfortable log cabin complete with wood burning stove, I
checked my tackle and then joined Blackwells in the main lodge for some of Mary Lou and
Kim's fine cooking. John told me that Russell Thornberry and a video crew were already in
camp doing a bowhunting video. Russell had already taken an exceptional black bear.
After lunch, I examined the hide of the enormous bear. It was the largest black bear I had
ever seen and it turned out to be the B.C. record for bow and arrow. It was a massive
chocolate brown bear, without a single rub, squaring over eight feet! Thornberry took the
bear from a tree stand with a single arrow at a distance of nine yards. The whole episode
was captured on film and now he and his crew were out after grizzly footage. Seeing the
big bear hide added excitement to my hunt. I would have happily settled for a grizzly the
size of that black bear.
I spent the rest of the afternoon unwinding and fishing from the dock in front of the
lodge. I caught several beautiful rainbow trout in the 15-inch range. Their flesh was as
red as any salmon. Mary Lou cooked them for supper and they were superb. After supper,
John and I discussed the game plan for my hunt. He explained that the sucked runs were
just beginning on several creeks in his area. The suckers, which normally inhabit the
lakes, run up into the small streams to spawn. When they do, the grizzlies move onto the
creeks to fish for and eat the suckers in much the same manner that the coastal bears fish
for salmon in the fall. The objective was to locate a bear on one of the creeks and then
set up a tree stand and wait him out. John explained that it's a waiting game.
"There's no point in rushing it." he said. "The key is to wait and watch
until the set up is perfect, and then slip in and set up the stand. Taking the bear on the
first try is the key. Once you spook a grizzly and he knows you're there, the odds of
bagging him are almost nil."
I have hunted in many places with many guides and outfitters and I knew I was listening to
an expert. It was tremendous to be in such unique grizzly country, custom-made for a
bowhunter. The bears were in dense timber where shots even for rifle hunters seldom exceed
50 yards. The fact that John catered to bowhunters was a double bonus. Many outfitters
want nothing to do with bows and arrows. But Blackwell understood clearly what a well
honed broadhead could do and I sensed he enjoyed the bowhunting challenge.
The nest morning, John went to check the creeks for bear sign. I remained at camp so as
not to encumber his effort. The less commotion created, the better, in the scouting
program. I spent the morning throwing a golden Mepps Spinner to the rainbows of Moose
Lake. By mid-morning I had six nice fish. Then the wind turned form the north and started
spitting snow. I was glad I brought my long johns and warm wool clothing. John says the
weather can change drastically overnight this time of year. I hoped the strong winds would
die before I had to make a critical shot. High winds and arrows don't mix. But then if it
really warms up there will be the mosquitoes. Ugh! Nature never fails to test a hunter's
good nature.
John returned at 1:00 p.m. with a big smile. He saw a sow grizzly with three cubs right on
one of the creeks. In addition, he found where a large boar had been fishing. Blackwell
made it clear that he did not want to bother the sow, which was fine with me, especially
in view of the large boar's presence.
At 3:00 p.m., we left for a spike camp near the creek where we spent the night. The next
afternoon, we worked our way through the dense timber toward the creek. Eventually we
could hear the ravens and eagles squawking along the creek where they also were attracted
by the all important sucker run. There was a narrow part in the timber where the little
creek glided between two likes, less than a mile apart. As soon as we reached the creek,
we saw bears. There were four of them, the same ones John saw earlier. The big brown sow
looked like she was about an 8-foot bear. Her blond cubs were coming two years old
according to John and they were fairly large bears as well. We stood quietly with the wind
in our favor and watched them from about 50 yards. It was a thrill to see them...real
grizzlies!
Whether I bagged a bear or not, my trip was already worthwhile. The bears were partially
obscured from my view by a fringe of underbrush but occasionally I could see all four of
them as they rummaged about. I took several photos through my telephoto lens before the
wind changed and they spooked and quickly vanished into the jungle of alder, willow,
spruce and aspen.
John and I made our way quickly to the spot where he had placed the tree stands. The creek
bank was pounded down where the big boar had been fishing. My tree was no more then ten
yards from the key spot. We took our stands and waited until dark. All we saw were
occasional splashes in the creek made by the suckers scurrying upstream.
The bear did not return that day or the next. John said the big boar seemed to work a
cycle in that area. He would be there for a day or two and move elsewhere and then be back
in the area again a few days later. All we could do was wait him out. After a couple of
fruitless days, John decided to go back to base camp and check some other creeks while we
were waiting for the return of Mr. Big. The next few days were uneventful. the weather
remained unstable, blustery and cold. Even the fish quit biting and I could feel I was
losing the battle with the cold I'd been fighting off for days. My main concern was the
coughing. I could just imagine myself sitting in a tree in the middle of an ill-timed
coughing spell just as my dream bear showed up.
John returned to base camp at midday on May 21 from another scouting mission and he was
plenty excited. He'd located a grizzly that he described as a monster. Coming from him,
that meant it was not just another grizzly bear. We organized ourselves and headed for the
new location on yet another sucker run creek. He was confident that I would get a crack at
this bear and by now I was ready for an opportunity.
The following afternoon, we left our spike camp at the end of a small lake, and hiked two
miserable miles through thick timber filed with blown down trees. It was the only way to
approach the creek with the wind in our favor. Subsequently, it took us longer to reach
the creek than expected. We wanted to get the tree stands set up. The bear would likely be
back on the creek which abounded with the sign of a huge bear. The tracks were awesome.
John's appraisal of the bear's size was certainly not overstated. My foot fit into the
track of his forefoot with plenty of room to spare on both sides!
John was up the tree putting up the first stand when the unexpected occurred.
The big bear appeared on the scene, coming down to the creek. John saw him from the tree
stand just as he was adjusting it to the tree. The bear heard John in the tree and turned
and bolted for cover. It was heart breaking. Our ambush plans were dashed. We talked it
over and John felt we still had a chance. "The bear heard me making some noise,"
he said, "but he couldn't have known what it was and I'm certain he didn't get wind
of us. He just might come back."
I had nothing to lose by trying so I agreed to sit in the stand. We didn't want to risk
any more noise in putting up another stand for John so he decided to ease back in the
timber downwind of my stand and wait. He told me not to get down out of the stand under
any circumstances until he returned for me. I agreed and he vanished into the timber. I
was perfectly safe, 15 feet up in the pine tree with no limbs below. It was 5:15 p.m. and
the waiting began.
At 7:45 p.m., the eerie quietness of the forest was shattered as the bear appeared. The
giant grizzly was suddenly there rushing toward me through the dense timber. He pounded
the ground with his front feet and popped his jaws like a steel trap. It was as if he was
displaying his furor as he came to scare off anything in his path. Whatever he had heard
earlier in that area, he now intended to run off. I was truly thankful to be off the
ground. I didn't feel afraid but the bear had my undivided attention.
I watched him as he came through the thicket, still closing the distance between us. He
stopped briefly, uprooting a small pine tree. Coming still closer, he chewed on another
tree and continued his jaw popping and growling. When he finally stepped into the open in
front of me, I could scarcely believe my eyes. I had never seen such a huge bear! He
stopped, giving me a broadside view. Then he turned his great head away from me, back
toward the direction from which he'd come. I knew it was time and without hesitation drew,
anchored, and put my 20-yard pin just behind his left front leg about eight inches up into
his rib cage and watched as the nock dissolved into brown hair in that exact spot. Upon
impact, the bear grunted and jumped out of my sight.
As the bear retreated into the timber, the line on my string tracker was severed. In a
matter of seconds I could hear him growling. I listened carefully trying to pinpoint his
location. All sounds came from the same location, and then silence. The growling lasted
for only about 15 seconds but there was no audible death moan, the typical response in
most of the black bears I have bagged with a bow. At first I was confident of my shot but
the as time dragged by as I waited for John's return, I started doubting. If grizzlies are
that much tougher than black bears, then why didn't this bear make more of a fight after
the shot? Had I just imagined a good hit?
At dark, as promised, John emerged from the timber.
"Did you see him? " he asked. Obviously he had not heard the noise the bear
made. "See him!" I said, "I shot him!" I couldn't wait to get out of
the tree and go settle my doubts but John absolutely refused to look for the bear until
the next morning when we had good daylight to work with. "That's far too dangerous an
animal to go stumbling around after in the dark!" he said.
I had to agree, but how I wanted to find that bear. I was sure that my shot was fatal, but
still not positive. It was going to be a long night.
John went back to the lodge that night to get Russell and his camera crew. He said they
would be thrilled to film the nest morning's events. We talked into the night and Russell
asked me several times to explain how the bear responded to the shot. He and John were
totally convinced the bear was laying out there dead. I hoped they were right.
The events that occurred the following morning turned out to be one of the great days of
my life. John, Russell, and his film crew hiked back to the scene of the shot and
immediately found a good blood trail as well as my arrow. The arrow passed right through
the bear and cut the line off my string tracker on a rib.
John took the lead with his .300 magnum in hand, I followed close behind as the camera
crew followed the two of us, filming as we proceeded on the blood trail. The bear seemed
to have just ambled through the thick, stunted spruce forest, unsure of what was happening
to him. John pointed out his tracks in the spongy caribou moss where he staggered and
stumbled.
Suddenly John whooped, "You Got'em! What a bear! Just look at the size of that
sucker!"
Upon seeing the bear, I was speechless. It was every bit as big as I remembered, even
though I had very little time to observe him before I took my shot.
The great bear had turned, facing his back trail, then slumped down in his tracks and
died. He was a measured 65 yards from where I hit him. The 22-yard shot had been perfect,
through the center of the lungs. We spent a long day filming and photographing the bear.
John believed it was very possibly a new Pope and Young Number One Grizzly. It was the
first grizzly I ever had anything to do with so, I didn't have much to compare it with but
it seemed too good to be true to take the world record on my first grizzly hunt. After
skinning the bear and taking his skull, we made a slow procession back to camp in
drizzling rain. It wasn't going to help my cold much but it no longer mattered. I had the
trophy of a lifetime. Of all the big game animals I've been in on, including the lion,
Cape Buffalo and rhino, this had to be number one. All the other animals were just going
about their business, but this big fellow came down through the woods, pounding his feet
and popping his jaws and acting like he owned the place. The Cape Buffalo may have the
reputation but this big grizzly had the goods. It was the highlight of my bowhunting
career.
Once back at the lodge, the skull was cleaned and measured. It measured over 26 inches
green score. There seemed to be little doubt that it would score well enough to eclipse
the former Pope and Young Number One Grizzly which measured 25 6/16 inches.
On March 14, 1988, the skull was officially measured by Boone and Crockett measurer, Jack
Dezall of Caroline, Alberta. The score, after more than ten months of drying time was 25
13/16 inches. A week later, official Pope and Young measurer, Ryk Visscher of Edmonton,
Alberta measured the skull, also at 25 13/16 inches.
My grizzly surpassed the former Pope and Young record grizzly by 7/16 inch and also
secured a spot in the top 30 grizzlies of all time in the Boone and Crockett records. The
greatest length of the skull measured 16 1/16 inches and the greatest width, 9 12/16
inches. It was amazing to realize that there are only 29 grizzlies in the Boone and
Crockett Records larger than my own and none of them were bow and arrow kills. In fact,
the largest B&C grizzly on record, scoring 27 2/16 inches, is only 1 5/16 inches
larger than my bear was killed in the Bella Coola Valley, a mere 80 miles from where my
bear was taken.
In retrospect, I see a strange quirk of fate. Had I not suffered a heart attack in April
of 1986, I would have hunted in May of that same year. It is altogether probable that I
would not have seen or killed the same bear if I had taken my hunt as originally planned.
And while I would gladly forego a heart attack, given a choice, my good fortune in 1987
certainly made up for the hunt missed in 1986. But that's hunting. Sometimes the breaks
work against you and other times they work in your favor.
I know I will never kill another bear to top the one I already have, but there is
something about hunting those bears that's in my blood. There is little in nature as
awesome as a huge grizzly at 20 yards, pounding his forefeet on the ground and popping his
jaws and telling the world he's boss.
Sidebar Information:
I used a 73 pound Quadraflex bow and 8.6 Metric Magnum arrows tipped with the large
Zwickey Black Diamond Delta broadheads. This combination of tackle performed perfectly: a
single shot went completely through the bear's ribs and exited out the offside. It seems
that grizzly bears do not have particularly heavy ribs but they have very heavy leg bones
and shoulder blades. My recommendation would be to take the center lung shot if possible
and avoid the heart shot for risk of hitting the heavy bones in the front legs.
Booking a Hunt:
John Blackwell takes a very limited number of grizzly hunters in the spring only. He
hunts from about May 10 through early June. Hunts are for a 10-day duration. His success
rate on grizzly bears is 75 percent. A bowhunter would have a hard time killing a grizzly
that would not make Pope and Young. The majority of the bears taken at Blackwell's camp
measure over 22 inches, with bears crowding and often making the magic 24-inch Boone and
Crockett minimum. Blackwell, also offers spring and fall black bear hunts and has a
success rate of 100 percent. Success rate on Canada Moose in Blackwell's camp is also 100
percent for bowhunters, with plenty of Pope and Young animals available.
For additional information contact: John Blackwell, General Delivery, Anahim Lake,
British Columbia, VOL 1C0.
