THE BEAR TURNED ITS MASSIVE HEAD

slowly to the right, and like some psychopathic killer por-

trayed by Anthony Hopkins or Jack Nicholson in an all-too-

real horror movie, seemed to peer not at us, but through us.

I’ll never forget those beady, cinnamon-brown eyes, partially

due to the fact that my 16-year-old daughter Kendra and I

were perched in two treestands a mere 12 paces from the big

bruin, but also because this was no ordinary bear.

Kendra and I were bowhunting Alaska brown bear, Ur-

sus arctos, the legendary coastal grizzly that grows to almost

unbelievable proportions and holds the foreboding title of

North America’s largest land predator.

Kendra had been at full draw on this bear for nearly a full

minute, patiently waiting for her target to turn and ofer that

perfect, leg-forward, broadside angle that I had repeatedly

preached about during months of diligent 3-D target prac-

tice. As the bear stared into our tree, time slowed down. But

my thoughts, and my heart rate, shifted gears to a redline

pace I’d previously never experienced.

How long could Kendra hold her draw? I wondered. Wo u l d

she succumb to those nasty, trigger-punching demons inside her

head that were surely screaming, “SHOOT!” before getting the

proper shot angle? And, most importantly, had I, a loving fa-

ther who had nudged my daughter into bowhunting dangerous

game, simply bitten of more than I could chew?

Only time would tell.

APRIL/MAY 2015 FEATURES

TIME

WILL

TELL

THAN HE COULD CHEW? BY GREG BRUSH

HAD A LOVING FATHER SIMPLY BITTEN OFF MORE

38 >BOWHUNTER APRIL/MAY 2015

STORY AND IMAGES