Hunting with Mike

The Ansel “boys” (there are six of us) all like to hunt. Collectively we have 30 years of bear hunting under our belts, and in all those years many a story has been shared around the campfire. The one I’m about to tell you is no story, but the honest to goodness truth.

My youngest brother Dean was just 14 years old when my father passed away, so it was up to us older guys to teach Dean the ways of the “wild.” We all liked to bear hunt, and a practical joke, or a little harassment, was all part of us rubbing shoulders together at bear camp. Dean was quite the prankster himself, and we were always looking for ways to get even with him.

On one particular fall hunt we had to drop hunters off at their stands, and then pick them up at dark. My brother Darryl had the farthest spot so he was the one picking me and Dean up at dark.

During the evening Dean had a nice sized sow with cubs come into his bait. He enjoyed watching them until momma got a whiff of “Deano” and woofed those cubs up the tree right next to him. The cubs are bawling, momma is mad as heck and popping her teeth, and Dean is hoping she doesn’t come up his tree! For over an hour Dean is yelling at the sow, throwing things at her, and even considering shooting her as a last life saving resort. Scratch that idea, as he drops his quiver full of arrows on the ground.

Thats where we come in. Darryl was late picking me up, so he is also late picking Dean up. We pull back to our rendezvous point and to our surprise- no Dean! Darryl rolls down the window and yells for little brother. Dean yells back that a sow has him pinned in a tree, and can Darryl please come back and get him? Darryl’s response is something like this “What do you think I’m blankety-blank-blank- nuts?” Dean then ask if Darryl will at least meet him half-way? Darryl yells back that as soon as Dean hears the car door slam to start down the tree and he’ll meet him half-way. Darryl looks over at me with a smug smile on his face and says “watch this.” He opens the car door and then slams it shut, as we both peer into the cold Marquette darkness. Off in the distance we can hear a lot of commotion, brush breaking, and some unintelligible language. Soon we see a flashlight beam bobbing wildly through the dense underbrush. Little brother appears somewhat bloodied (branches and tree limbs-not bear claws) and very winded! “You tricked me” he gasps at Darryl. Darryl responds that only an idiot would be running through the woods at night with a mad sow in the area, as he gazed in Deans direction. All Dean could say was I’ll get even-I’ll get even! “Brothers, you gotta love em.”

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