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The sky looked perfectly clear now as I walked out of the cabin that morning just before
daybreak. I looked around to see if anyone else in camp was up. The air was chilly, but I could
see the bright sun climbing over the trees between the mountain peaks across the lake. Glad to
see the sun and a clear sky, I headed back inside to get ready before making the short walk
through the trees to the dining cabin for breakfast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMorning.\u201d I said to my guide who was already there sitting at the long communal table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMorning. Weather is looking nice. I got a good feeling about today. Think you\u2019re gettin a big
one today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHope so!\u201d I said. \u201cWhats the plan?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\u2019re thinking about trying to get the go ahead on a new spot. Dad\u2019s gonna come with us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We\u2019ll see what we can do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I knew I could trust this father and son duo; they had plenty of experience. They knew the entire
surrounding area like the back of their hands having ran this outfit here for generations. More so,
the prospect of a brand-new spot, especially for an operation with that kind of experience,
sounded extra exciting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Soon we were heading out. Along the way we passed endless rolling hills of poplar and conifer,
occasionally passing green pastures with wooden posts and cattle wire fencing. The bright green
of the pastureland contrasted by the thick, dark, pacific-northwest forest, and the ever-present
backdrop of towering snow-capped peaks, created a breathtaking vista. Our hunts had until then
focused on the public lands where the outfitter had government approved leases for specific and<\/p>\n\n\n\n
exclusive guiding rights. This involved regulations on nonresident requirements for hiring a
guide. But the green-up which attracted the bears this time of year was slow so far in most of
their public land spots and the new plan would give us access to more favorable habitat that they
were sure was holding higher concentrations of bears at the moment.
After about fifteen minutes we pulled into the gravel driveway of a well-kept farmhouse. There
were kids playing outside who scurried off as we drove up. My guides hopped out and knocked
on the front door. A young women answered and I watched them all converse cordially for a
moment. Then the guides returned and were both chuckling a bit to themselves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell?\u201d I asked excitedly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe rancher\u2019s name is Wolf.\u201d They answered. \u201cWe still need to get his permission.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWolf?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They nodded. I loved the sound of this. How cool and fitting it was that this wild and remote
ranch tucked far back in the mountains of Northern B.C. was owned and run by a man named
Wolf!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We drove a little farther down the dirt road speculating about what Wolf would be like. Soon we
spotted a large red tractor on a hill in one of the pastures and did not have to wonder any longer.
We pulled over and waited for the tractor to close the distance on our location there by the
roadside. When it did approach, we saw atop the beat-up old machine, a grizzled, iconic looking,
northwest Canadian rancher. He was everything I had imagined\u2014 every bit the off-grid,
homesteading, mountain-man I thought he might be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tall, steely, and muscular, with sun-darkened leathery skin. His hair was long and unruly with
streaks of gray that matched the stubble on his unshaven face and neck. In one hand was a
cigarette that burned low, dangerously close to his calloused, dirt and grease covered fingers. I
watched the ember smoldering between them as it burned down low. He did not seem to notice
or be particularly concerned about it himself. Eventually he dropped it, apparently not from pain
of the ember which had certainly been burning his fingers, but simply to light another one
straight away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The guides approached apprehensively while I stood a few steps back. The first exchange was
tense. Wolf was clearly not one to be trifled with. He was also not one for mincing words. He
spoke rough and bluntly. Thankfully, my guides were seasoned locals and knew how to speak his
language just as expertly as they knew how to hunt. Soon Wolf had softened a bit and began
jovially recounting a story of the last bear he had taken himself off his vast property. He told us
that, after shooting the bear in one of his pastures and assuming it dead, he backed up his pickup
truck to the motionless body and leaned down to lift it into the truck with nothing but his bare
hands and brute strength. Being the legend that he was, he wrapped his arms around the huge
animal to lift it in one scoop. When he did, his ear touched the bears chest, and he heard the heart
still beating!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat did you do?\u201d I blurted out in absolute suspense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJust threw him in the truck and slammed the door.\u201d Wolf said, matter of factly, in a thick
Canadian accent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yes…as legendary as I could have imagined.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the end, he gave us permission to hunt, kindly directing us to a far pasture at the edge of his
property where it crept close to the foothills of the high mountains and met the adjoining Crown
land. We truly drove off road now, through these picturesque fields until the forest closed in and
forced us to continue on foot. Here Wolf\u2019s cattle had grazed between the abundant poplars so
that there was very little underbrush, only grass and trees. It was like something out of a
naturalist painting. Verdant grasses growing among the white barked trees, their leaves
shimmering in the sunlight. I almost forgot we were in the middle of nowhere. A gentle breeze
was blowing and the peeling bark of the trees fluttered like bits of paper nailed to their trunks.
Eventually we arrived at the spot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We laid on the grass and leaned against the trees, and I listened to the trembling whisper of the
leaves above. I could have sat there all day simply soaking up the spirit of the place. But after
about thirty minutes, we spotted our first bear appearing from out of the forest at the far edge of
the pasture. We sat and watched it feed on new shoots of spring greenery like a scene from a Nat
Geo film. We took pictures and videos, and debated whether it was a boar or sow, and whether
or not to take a shot. In the end the decision was made for us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Without warning we heard a tree snap and crash to the ground. It was loud and startling after
having enjoyed the idilic tranquility until then. We whipped around to look slightly downhill at
the other far end of the field. There we saw an absolute tank of a boar bear making his way
towards the other bear who we had been watching. After snapping in half what we later
discovered to be a nearly, twelve-foot-high, young fir tree, he took a few plodding steps toward
us. Then he stopped and leaned down tor a moment to graze. I was already in prone position,
Christensen Arms 6.5 PRC rifle ready. The bear was at 180 yards, my guide whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShoot?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHammer him!\u201d He replied imploringly.<\/p>\n\n\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/10\/image21.jpeg\")
<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nDeep in northern British Columbia, a rancher named Wolf opened the gate to a hunt I\u2019ll never forget. What followed was a bear of a lifetime\u2014and a story made for telling around the campfire.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":15261,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15262","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-hunting"],"acf":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/10\/wolf-bear.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15262","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=15262"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15262\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15268,"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15262\/revisions\/15268"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/15261"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=15262"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=15262"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=15262"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
I put the crosshairs on his shoulder and pulled the trigger. He dropped instantly. When we finally
walked up on this once in a lifetime sized bear, he had a mouthful of grass still between his teeth.
Ending the day back at camp later that evening, after skinning and butchering the 7\u20196\u201d brute, we
joyfully told the rest of the crew the whole story. About the legendary, Canadian myth of a man,
who we had met earlier, and about the epic hunt he allowed us to have on his land. When I had
planned the trip months before, I knew we\u2019d be hunting in an area with plenty of bear and
wolves. But I could not have imagined how this story involving both would play out. It is still
one of my favorite memories of being far from home, one I will remember forever. A great one
for around the campfire with a drink and friends\u2014 the one about Wolf and the Bear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/feathersandwhiskey.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/10\/0-1.jpeg\")
<\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"