Russian Brown Bear Hunt
I planned our Russian brown bear hunt for 2 years. After many faxes and phone calls to Russia, all the plans were made and our invitations were received. Now all I needed was our visas. The Russian Consultant never answered any of my calls or any of the five members I had. I over nighted our forms requesting visas along with a copy of our invitations, I also included a fee and a self addressed pre-paid overnight envelope. I continued to phone the Russian Consultant everyday with no luck when much to my relief, I received our visas. I began to tune the two bows I planned to take and in the process I cracked a knuckle to the bone and needed about five stitches. Being the stubborn person that I am, I cleaned the wound and closed the gash with a tightly pulled bandage. After a week of doctoring, I gave in and went to the doctor. My hand was swollen to twice its normal size and ached terribly. The doctor said I had cracked the same knuckle as I had cracked as a teenager and it was dangerously infected. After trying to talk me out of going to the remote outbacks of Russia, he decided to prescribe some very potent antibiotics and began to explain how important it was to soak the knuckle in hot salt water three times a day. He succeeding in convincing me how dangerous it was and impressed me with the importance of keeping it cleaned, soaked, and covered with Neosporin. Unfortunately, my hands were so swollen and soar that I could no longer grip my release and pull back my bow, let alone, shoot it accurately. I bought a release and rigged one of my bows the way I normally hunt incase the swelling and pain went away. The release still hurt to me but it was tolerable enough to pull back my bow and shoot accurately. After all, if you were going to throw an arrow at a brown bear, it better be accurately thrown. After tuning two different bows I began to run out of time so I decided to set my pins after I got to Russia. I packed my bags and off to Atlanta, I caught my flight. I was reminded once I got to the airport, that the Olympics were still in town as it took an hour to get to the terminal after I got to the airport. A police officer directed me over to get curb side baggage care. I noticed in retrospect that a line of five tow trucks were parked to the side in parallel to the line of taxis. As I was asked the normal question, did you pack your own bags, did anyone ask you to carry their bags for them, can I see your passport, my car was being towed with three of my bags still in it. One of which had all my money in it. The police told me to go to the police office of the airport for instructions. There they gave me a copy of instructions on how to get to the Towing Company to get registrations out of the glove box of my car to park at a designated airport parking lot. I took a cab uptown to my car, broke into it to get my bags money and car registrations. I then took a cab back to the airport just in time to make my flight. Buzz Howell, one of my hunting partners, met me at the gate. Noel Feather, the other partner was meeting us in Anchorage AK. The flight through Seattle to Anchorage was uneventful except for the bomb threat at the Seattle airport which threw all flights about 1 hour off schedule. We had an overnight layover in Anchorage so we got about 5 hours of sleep. I realized I hadn’t packed my quiver so we went to brown bear archery on our way to the airport to buy one. The quiver mounts on both my bows were for a quiver which was the only one they didn’t have in stock. I bought a PSE quiver I could use if I had some way of mounting it to my bow.
The limo driver was very nice, but he let us off at the International Terminal in Anchorage since after all, we were flying to Russia. After he left and we made several trips from the curb to the terminal with all our bags, we found that since we were flying on Alaskan Air, we should have gone to the domestic terminal, go figure. We caught another shuttle bus and finally got to the right terminal only to find a very long line at Alaskan air. Buzz talked to all the people ahead of us and got their permission to get ahead of them. We checked our bags, and were charged for excess, and found that the flight had been delayed for at least an hour. Finally my luck had changed for the better, so I thought. The one hour delay turned into two and before we knew it our connecting flight in Khavarusk , Russia to Oktohole was in jeopardy. I had decided to wear my yellow pants and green dear shirt because it had a deer embroider over the left pocket. Less than one hour into this 8 hour flight, a man hit my arm while I was drinking a cup of coffee. The coffee went all over the left side of my light yellow pants. The stewardess got me some club soda and a cloth napkin and for over an hour I worked on my pants, heck it gave me something to do to pass the time.
This flight had one stop in Magdan before we reach Khavarsk. We decided to deplane for this brief layover so Buzz and Noel could get a quick sneak-peak of what we were in for while we were in Russia. We rode in a very cold noisy truck from the plane to the airport building and back. The airport was just as all the other Russian airports I had been to, old looking plans and helicopters while in route to the bus. We were all thankful of the Alaskan Airplane we were riding in even if it was small.
One hour after the take off the stewardess brought me some more club soda to get a Pepsi stain left by a spill on the left leg of my pants. It became a big joke on the plane how everything served to me ended up on my lap. I wasn’t about to tell anyone how I had earlier spilled the hot, salt water on my lap that I was soaking my knuckle in.
Well as predicted our plane was 2 ½ hours late landing in Khubarvosk. After the traditional hassle through baggage search, we missed the last two planes. We had to spend the night and catch the next plane out which left at 12 noon the next day.
We finally made it through the domestic Russian baggage search but the hotel hadn’t given Buzz’s passport and visa back to him and now he couldn’t board the plane without it. Dimitri, our interpreter, phoned the hotel and for $20, they sent a man to bring Buzz his documents. We had to load our bags ourselves on the plane and then finally boarded the plane. We arrived in Nicolias but not a moment too soon. After several trips from the plane to the truck we were off to the boat. It took two days by boat to get to the pristine camp that wasn’t set until we got there to set it.
The guides did most of the work putting up camp while we put our bows together and fine-tuned our sights. By the time we had finished our bows and opened all our bags to organize our gear, the guides had a late lunch prepared for us. It consisted of boiled fish and whole potatoes in the form of a soup. After lunch we prepared our gear and loaded up for the first hunt. My guide, Nicholi, and I drove by boat for about 45 minutes to where the lake got very shallow. Nickoli got out of the boat and pulled it, with me in it for over 1,000 yards until we came to the mouth of a small stream about 6” deep full of Salmon. There were several sets of moose tracks going to and from the lake out of the forest. More impressive than that were the 6 sets of bear tracks, 2 of them which looked to be monsters, probably made by the same bear. We sat down on the ground, behind some grass, 15 yards from the mouth of the stream. It was 6:00 pm and by 10:00 pm it was too dark to see. We had seen several salmon backs as they tried to swim further upstream, but no other game. I had gotten some dirt in my right eye at 5:30 pm and by now I had a tremendous headache. When we got back to camp, I ate supper, noodles and hash, and went straight to bed. My bed consisted of a home made sleeping bag on top of a bed of crushed rocks. The tent was homemade from scrap bed spreads; I sure hope it doesn’t rain. The mosquitoes in Russia must wear goose down jump suits because it got close to freezing that night and they bombarded the three of us all night long.
The next morning we had hash and rice for breakfast but the coffee was good, and I don’t like coffee. The second evenings hunt; my guide built a stand elevated about 10 feet high. At 7:15 pm my guide decided I need more cover. He got down and sawed some trees and brush and began putting it around me. At 7:30pm, while he was still working on hiding me I heard a bear grunting. I looked behind me to see a 150 pound cub running in the opposite direction about 30 yards away. We didn’t see anything else that evening.
When we got back to camp, Noel had an interesting story. They were stalking a bear when a sow and cub came out within 60 yards of them. The sow saw them and stood on her hind legs to get a better look. Noel’s guide started to panic and began shooting his rifle, which just about caused Noel to jump out of his skin. After 3 or more shots, the sow was dead and Noel was dumbfounded. Noel didn’t feel there was any danger and the shooting was uncalled for. He told the interpreter who scolded the guide. Buzz hadn’t seen any bears but he did see a roe deer.
By the day we had not seen anymore game at all. We had, had fish, potatoes or rice or noodles at every meal. We had hot tea and coffee or Vodka at every meal. Buzz killed a goose with his bow so that we had goose soup that night.
During the night while still on the boat at about 3 am I found out why the crew took shifts staying awake. Some Russian Pirates tried to board our boat by quietly paddling to it as we were anchored for the night. The night crewman yelled at them and then cranked their boat and speeded off into the night.
I accidentally dry fired my bow, which sent my peep sight into never-never land. I made a replacement one from the cap of my pen. It looked great but didn’t work well at all. I couldn’t get it to stay in the string.
I think our camp cook is the Russian version of Bubba from the Forest Gump movie except his thing was fish instead of shrimp. We’ve had fish 3 times a day everyday in some form or fashion.
We were stalking through a creek most of the day. The creek was 10 yards wide and at times plum up to the top of our hip waders. The creek wound around and around in both directions. Salmon were everywhere. It gave the effect of a topless tunnel. It was very erie, especially when rounding a bend. When it got too dark to see, we decided to head back. As we were wading back, when we got to the deepest part, my guide startled a large salmon that jumped out of the water and caught me in the crouch. It knocked me on my back and under the water. After I got out of my wet clothes, my pants had an extra fleet in it. Unfortunately, during the entire stalk we didn’t see any game.
We had been talking about hunting the morning hunt at my stand but couldn’t figure out how to get there before day light with out disturbing the bears. On the fifth day as fait would have it, it rained most of the night. We didn’t see anything during either hunt or through the night so we decided to scout and stalk the rest of the day.
On the sixth day I decided to move my tree stand about 1,000 yards from its original spot to a spot I found while stalking the creek. It had a better vantage point and it had some traits close by with half eaten salmon in them every 100 yards or so. On that evenings hunt, I saw the 150 pound cub again or at least I think it was the same one. According to my range finder, he was 123 yards away and back into the woods. I saw him about 40 minutes before pitch dark. I was hunting this area alone although my guide was waiting for me back at the boat. I had to wade the creek back to the lake some 2 or 3 miles or so. This is very exuberating feeling to wade a thigh deep creek in the dark with spawning salmon constantly jumping and swimming into your body. Picture in your mind complete darkness, a small mini-mag light, a winding stream with 8 to 10 feet deep banks with another 6 feet of grass and shrubs all along the banks. You’re alone and in brown bear country. Talk about an awakening. The adrenaline will flow and every nerve in your body comes alive. You’re aware of every sound, every splash, and every movement. You must keep your wits and not panic. It will definitely seem as though it is taking much longer to wade back than it did to wade in the light. In fact when it seems you’ve walked twice too far; you begin to wonder if you started up stream instead of down stream. If you don’t stop and think and check the direction of the water flow, you might turn around and start back tracking. Panic will try to overwhelm you. Just before it does you see an opening just ahead. You’re breathing very heavily and you begin wading much faster as hope begins to rise from the pit of your stomach. Another 100 yards and your there, alive, with keen awareness. Another 1,000 yards along the shore of the lake and your to the boat telling your guide of the cub bear you saw but did not mention the feelings you had while walking back.
Back in camp spirits were getting low. No one was seeing any game. There was talk of moving camp down three hours or just calling it quits and going home. That night the guides shot a cow moose. Hopefully now no more fish soup. Buzz, Noel, and I explained how we wanted the next meal to be battered and fried moose tenderloin. The cook’s feelings were hurt. I will not soon forget that meal.
By the end of the seventh days hunt, Buzz had seen 3 roe deer, Noel had seen the sow cub and I had seen the same cub twice. The guide had killed a cow moose for camp meat and that was the extent of the game seen while on our hunt. We decided to pick up camp and move to another place. It took all day but we lived through it.
Two hours before dark on the eighth day, the new camp was ready and we had eaten some moose, so we took of for the hunt. I didn’t know and did not prepare for an all nighter but that’s what she was. We got back to camp right at daylight and met Noel and his guide as we arrived.
Buzz was already asleep in the tent. No one had seen anything. We were all frustrated and decided to call it quits. On the 9th day of the hunt, the 14th day after we had left Alabama, I knew things were looking up. I had had my first semi solid stool and by 1:00 pm we had finally convinced Dmitri, our interpreter, to tell the guides we were ready to leave. We debated for hours with him while he tried to change our minds. Our minds were made up and finally he was convinced. We had already packed 99% of our gear, so by 1:45 pm we were completely packed and ready to go. Two guides stayed behind to finish breaking up camp. We were loaded in three small boats with jet engines. We decided to ride these boats to the closest village, Tearz, and catch a hydro boat to Nickolias. On the way to Tearz, one of the small boats quit working. After we spent about 45 minutes trying to fix it, we loaded all the gear out of the broken boat into the remaining two boats and continued to Tearz leaving a guide with the broken boat. That left two guides to help us load our gear, Nickoli and Vleari. We caught the hydroplane to Tearz. While waiting for the boat there was a group of students who were also waiting for the boat. These students were fascinated to meet Americans and to hear them talk. They crowded around Buzz, Noel and myself over an hour listening to us talk and practicing their English. On our boat, I befriended a 13 year old boy named Vladimer and his 13 year old girlfriend named Nena. I taught them to say, “What is your name,” and “What time is it now.” They had a blast and so did I. The 2 ½ hour boat ride flew by. When we got to Nickoli we went to the only hotel in town. It was not fit to sleep in. We decided to stay at Vleari’s apartment for the night. His wife cooked our dinner and breakfast. Dinner wasn’t much but breakfast was a complete bacon omelet with fresh veggies. Both meals were delicious after eating in the bush. Buzz and Noel said I was still the fly egg king but now I was also the mosquito king.
Thursday morning (8/15/96), Dmitri, our interpreter, had to go to the airport to arrange our early flight because they wouldn’t allow you to do this over the phone due to terrorist security. It took Dmitri three hours to arrange everything. Vleari’s daughter, Lonari, sang and played the piano for us while we waited. She was actually pretty good. At 3:30 we caught a flight from Nickolia to Khabarovsk. Once in Khabarovsk we checked on flights to Anchorage. That day was Thursday and we found that Alaskan Air only flew from Khabarovsk to Anchorage on Friday and Wednesday. Boy were we lucky to get seats on Friday’s flight. We couldn’t arrange it at the Khabarovsk Airport though because the Alaskan Air only employed workers on days they had flights and then only during the hours of service. I called my wife, Tami, to find that it was 2 a.m. in Alabama. The local time was 6 a.m. in Khabarovsk. I asked her to arrange the change of all our tickets and I would call her in 8 hours. Then began the episode with our taxi. All the taxis at the Airport were small compact cars. The drivers wanted us to load all of our bags in one car and have all of us loaded into another car to go to the hotel. Violent arguments began, in Russian of course, between our interpreter and the cab drivers. After the discussion, Dmitri began to look for an independent driver who had a van. In Russia it is very common for individuals to pickup people as cab drivers do, and take them were ever they want to go for a normal fee. Dmitri found a person with a large new van who agreed to take us to the airport. As we were loading our bags into his van, 5 or 6 taxi drivers came over and began to yell violently at the van driver and Dmitri. The van driver quickly unloaded the two bags we managed to load into the van and drove off. Dmitri began his discussion again with the cab drivers. After about 45 minutes it was settled, ¾ of our bags and Dmitri would ride in one car and the rest of our bags, Noel, Buzz, and I, would ride in another. Dmitri later explained how the taxi drivers were trying to scam us and he wouldn’t let them. When they refused to take bags and passengers both in 2 cars, he found an independent driver. He explained how, as we were loading the bags into the van, the taxi drivers began to violently threaten the van driver and proceed to puncture his tires. The van driver unloaded the 2 bags and fled prior to any tire puncturing. By the time we got checked into the hotel and loaded all our bags into the room, it was 9:15 p.m. We caught a ride by an independent driver for $4 to a restaurant that Dmitri had eaten at before. The meat was very good but the proportions weren’t very large. By the time we got back to the hotel it was 12:30 p.m. I called Tami at 2 a.m. to get our flight arrangements.
Dmitri and I were sharing a room and there was no air conditioning. After my telephone conversation with Tami, Dmitri talked to his wife 4 different times trying to set up business meetings in Moscow. I am not sure of the exact arrangements because they were speaking in Russian.
Finally, Dmitri began to pack and rearrange his bags. I tried to sleep but with the lights and television on, I couldn’t. At 4:15 a.m. he finally finished. All too soon the 7 a.m. alarm clock was ringing. I called Buzz and Noel and woke them and then took a shower. By the time we got all the bags loaded and to the Airport it was 10:30 a.m. Alaskan Air had no record of our Flight changes that Tami had made. Fortunately there were plenty of seats except for the Seattle to Atlanta leg for which they put us on stand by, and they charged us $125 to change the tickets and $108 for each excess bag. As we tried to go through customs, we found out that there was a $30 fee to use the airport facilities. We waited in line to pay this service fee only to find they wouldn’t accept US dollars. We then had to wait in line at the foreign exchange center to get Rubals. Then back to the airport facilities service fees line long before the standard hassle through customs. Buzz and Noel realized why I insisted on leaving the hotel 3 ½ hours before departure time even though the airport was only 10 minutes away. We made the flight with 10 minutes to spare so we had a very quick cup of coffee to keep us awake. During the 7 hour flight to Anchorage including a short stop, we had a snack and a meal, both of which, even though they were your typical airplane meal, were better than any meal we had had since we deboarded our plan in Khabarovsk two weeks earlier. It sure felt good to be on our way home.
The customs in Anchorage took longer then usual which caused us to miss our connection. They rerouted us on stand by through Seattle. In Seattle we got bumped and I was rerouted to Salt Lake again on stand-by. Buzz was rerouted to Cincinnati. In Salt Lake I got bumped and put on another stand-by flight and finally confirmed a seat on a much later flight, which I finally caught in Atlanta. My bags had made it to Atlanta 24 hours ahead of me so it took me over an hour to locate them at the Delta Baggage area and to my car. I then had to find my car and hope that my brother, Stanley, had been able to get it from the impound lot. The car was right were I asked him to park it and I made the 3 hour drive home in the rain with out another incident.
