You can't think very long about to-heck-and-gone bowhunts without thinking about Alaska.

So it was that on a fine June morning, I found myself on the banks of the Susitna River with a couple of those wild-eyed types who shoot longbows. I myself had a longbow in hand and I'm sure a mischievous gleam, for after dreaming about it for 20-some years, I was about to hunt Alaska.

Paul Brunner, traditional archer extraordinaire, and Stewart Smith, marketer of the fine longbows we were packing, were chattering and scurrying about in preparation for our river trip. The idea was to run down the "Su" to Stew's favorite king salmon hole for some action-packed angling, then back up a ways for black bear hunting.

We'd camp on the boat that brief June night and continue our classic Alaska adventure the next day. Jet-boating for miles down the fitful river, we talked Alaska stuff like moose hunting, weather, bows, and bears. "There's a good bear population along the river," Stewart said. "Blacks and browns. We've got a big brown that's been feeding on one of our baits. It keeps the black bears away. When the brown bears move in, they take over."

Awesomely endless spruce flats lined the riverbank. In the distance, far to the north, loomed the grand spectacle of Denali ("The Great One" in Inuit; "Mt. McKinley" to our Manifest Destiny obsessed forefathers). "Right in there is one of our hunting sites," Stewart shouted over the drone of the motor. "It's an island that comes close to shore, and the bears have been crossing the narrows to the bait. It's a good spot." We anchored at the mouth of a tributary and before I could wet my line, Brunner was connected to our first fish. We had a blast with the salmon while waiting for bear hunting time, which is a long time coming that close to summer solstice in Alaska.

Truly the land of the midnight sun, dusk doesn't arrive until 11 p.m. and stays until almost 1 a.m., when it finally gets pretty dark for awhile. Back at the island, we moored and sneaked into the alder jungle.

"There are the trails coming in," Stewart whispered. "There are a couple of stands set up already. Take your pick. I'll see you about 1 a.m. "Stewart and Paul left for another hunting site as I climbed to the platform, 15 feet up a little pine and 20 yards from where the main bear trail dumped into the little forest opening. A hunter's mind has lots of time to stray on a bear stand. I guided mine to absorbing the long-awaited sights and sounds of this fabled country. The breeze whistled softly in the pines. Snow geese winged hard overhead, and the Susitna rolled toward Cook Inlet and the Pacific. The majestic beauty and wildness were overwhelming.

I watched a mink hunt the riverbank, wondering if there was something I could learn from his technique. It was ....A twig broke softly behind me, and before my mind consciously registered "bear," my heart was pounding. I froze, bow muscles tensing, and a bear strode brazenly into the clearing. I locked my eyes on his ribs and got ready for my chance, but the bear circled the log pile that concealed the bait.

He scattered the logs like so many toothpicks. Finally he shuffled around to my side of the log pile and paused broadside. My eyes locked hard on his heart as mine raced again. I felt the string touch my face, then leap away. Bright fletching appeared, then vanished, where I'd been staring, and the bear galloped into the underbrush.

I sank back into the treestand, awash in the afterglow of the excitement, and glanced at my watch. Nearly 11 p.m. and it was hardly dusk! Though the shot looked perfect, I gave it time just to make sure, and watched the sullen Susitna churn, gazed across the vast forests. I considered how awesome was this experience, how bittersweet my deed. How can a man describe the chaos of emotions that cascade over him in a moment such as this?

Then I was down and with arrow nocked, tracing the scarlet trail over rocks and lichen into the murky half-light of the spruce forest, till it ended in a pile of blackness - my prize.

By midnight I had dragged the bear to the river's edge and waited for the boat. I let the wild Alaska night etch itself into my memory. There was a moment of excitement when some bears stalked up behind me in the gloom.

Finally the boat arrived and when my new friends beamed at the sight of my bear and whacked me on the back, I knew this shortest of bowhunts had been well worth the long wait.

If You Go

Alaska black bear hunting is best in late May, early June, and September (season dates vary). Baiting is the most common method of hunting, though spot & stalk is a viable option in open areas.

This is the type of hunt that requires going with someone who knows the area. If you're not lucky to have a bear-hunting friend there like I do, you can check out hunts on this site under the outdoor Adventures section or look up individual guides/outfitters at www.alaskaguidesdirectory.com

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