6th Prize
Hunting Journal with Weatherby Logo (100 awarded)
Robin Baker, Arizona
“The trip starts with plane ride north, way north and a little left. Russia, or across the Bering Strait. Hunting the biggest of the Russian brown bear. My two older bothers, Blaine (the oldest)and Patrick (the middle) and me pulling up the rear. We all hunt but have never been hunting together before. We will need some help for this safari. Nice spotting scopes and Very Big Bore Weatherby's 300 Mag or bigger. We all have nice firearms collections but nothing that can tackle a big brown bear. A three bro, three bear hunt. I think I'm the only Weatherby owner. Just the thought of the three of us hunting together gives me goose bumps.
We'll need to hire some local and very good bear guides for the hunt. For now, we'll call him Mr. Yorgonovf. He and his team of big bear guides will snow mobile us to our camp. The next day Mr. Yorgonovf's team will take us to where the Biggins hang out. On the first day, we sit on a ridge and scope the opposite hill. We spot a good size bear but the guides say there are bigger ones out here. We move a few miles down the valley and start spotting once more. A guide taps Blaine on the shoulder and points down and to the left. Oh my, it's one of the biggies. He's lumbering just off the bottom of the valley floor. Too far! We look and scout the hill we're on and figure that we can cut him off if we circle around. We're so afraid that the bear will hear the crunching of the snow crust as we plod through. Two and a half hours later, Blaine has one of the nicest big brown bears that I've ever seen. One shot nicely placed. I look at him and he’s all ear–to–ear. NICE!
It's still early and the guides tell us there are five more spots to check out. At the second location, all we find is big bear scat. A little bummed, we head to the next spot. It's so cold that ice forms on our faces and all we do is smile at each other as we are on the hunt of our lives. Upon reaching the next ridge, our guide holds up his arm and everybody stops dead in their tracks. Not 500 yards ahead is the reason we're freezing our tails off. He's not as big as Blaine's but he's BIG. And it's my turn. We three bros did Scissors, Rocks, Paper before we headed out on this fabulous hunt. The results in order of 1st to 3rd...Blaine, me and Patrick. It was my turn. I creep up to 300 yds in 50 minutes. I take aim and right at the moment I pull the trigger, the bear turns. It takes two shots and the bear is mine. Blaine is already telling me it only took him one shot. It's getting late so we all call it quits for the day. Heck, how can we complain, we got two bears in one day. Dinner is a Russian specialty I can't pronounce. But it's good.
Early the next day, we start out at the first spot that Blaine took his bear and nothing. The whole day goes on like this and we're down to two spots left that the guides were holding back on, just in case. We go to the fifth spot and still nothing. The days done and so are we. The sixth and last spot, looking, looking and more looking. NOTHING. We have just one more day, for Patrick's bear. We go back to camp to eat, talk and sleep.
Mr. Yorgonovf says he knows of a small valley almost half a day's travel and thinks it's worth the trip. We spend three and a half hours being driven through the roughest land I'd never want to walk through. Up and over a small crest and the little valley stretches in front of us. It's beautiful. Small pine with low brush, a mid–size river and lots of wildlife, nice. Blaine and I didn't have to be there but we wanted to see the hunt so it would be the three of us all through the hunt. We spread out along the ridge, just so we could still see each other to give hand signs to Patrick. A half an hour later, Blaine signals Patrick to look below him about 700 yards. A real nice bear. Patrick sneaks over to where he can see it and starts stocking the brute. It's the biggest bear the guides have seen in this valley in five years. I note, this is bigger than mine but not as big as Blaine's. So what, Patrick is going for his bear. Patrick gets to 300yards and the bear is getting twitchy. He crawls up on a fallen log and takes aim. BOOM! A great shot. The bear turned towards him and Patrick got him through the chest in a downward shot that went through his heart. The bear looked stunned and falls after two steps.
Back at camp is nothing but smiles. We break out the cigars for everyone that helped with the hunt. The list is long...two cooks, six guides, two camp helpers and Mr. Yorgonovf. I brought a box and a bundle. After everyone has two cigars, I give what's left to Mr. Yorgonovf, plus a very nice tip. The hunt of a lifetime. Can you imagine the photo? Three bros holding their three Weatherby's and behind them, three bears hanging. Perfect, just perfect. God bless America, the NRA and Weatherby.”