The Story of the Big Little Bear

The Story Of The Big Little Bear

I’ve killed a bear. Just one. And it wasn’t very big. Actually, even inserting the word big into the previous sentence doesn’t seem right because it causes one to think that there was some bigness to the bear. There wasn’t. Unless, of course, you are telling your one and only bear story to your almost five-year-old just before bed. Then the bear is big.

“Hey Bud, wanna hear a bear story?” I ask before leaving his side.

“Yeah!” he says as he picks his head up off his pillow in the darkness of his room. He’ll listen to anything in order to delay bedtime, so I oblige.

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Guest Post by Brandon Reed: Bearly Dead!

Guest Post By Brandon Reed: Bearly Dead!

Brandon Reed, from southern New Hampshire, emailed me a story the other day of a somewhat scary experience he had in the woods last year after shooting a nice doe with his bow. I had looked at the pictures before reading the story and just assumed that the pictures were of a doe he had recovered the following morning after shooting it the night before. WRONG! This is a rare story and one you have to read! 

Guest Post: Bearly Dead! 

by Brandon Reed 

 

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My Bear

It’s not the biggest bear I admit, but it was the first one I had ever seen in the woods. It was a warm, calm afternoon and I was dozing off in my treestand with thanks to a little sun on my face. The classic sounds of an animal walking in the thick bed of dry leaves caused me to snap…

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