I just returned from a grizzly bear hunt in Alaska. I was unsuccessful, however; I didn’t get a shot (luckily for the grizz and PETA). I hate to ruin your private party, PETA freaks, but before you skip off to go autoerotic with the current issue of National Geographic, I thought I’d mention that I’ll be back after them and their black cousin in the spring of 2010. I will, sooner or later, score on the horrible one.
Even though I did not shoot a bear on my recent hunting trip, I did learn something while amongst the alders, icebergs and the devil’s club that I’d like to pass on to you, my rowdy God and country loving reader:
1. Grizzly hunting is expensive. Yep, this sport of kings is not cheap. Just the equipment costs and travel expenses needed to get to where Ursus arctos horribilis dwells costs more than most are willing to spend on a hunt. Fortunately for my wallet and wife, this hunt was gifted to me.
However, there were other costs involved that didn’t entail the outlay of Benjamins, such as the mental and physical costs of hunting deadly game in adverse surroundings. Both the animal and the elements can kill you. You need to be okay with that and willing to ante up and do whatever needs to be done in order to get your trophy.
What’s the life lesson to be gleaned here, my little children? If you want a truly awesome “trophy” it will exact from you a pound of flesh. The best and baddest in life always demand the massive expenditure of the mind, will and emotions. A great nation, marriage or a functional family will cost you retail in blood, sweat and tears. If you’re going to get your “grizzly” in life then you need to realize it’ll cost you dearly and demand an extravagant expenditure of your time, talent and treasure. Period. Great things are expensive in fifty different ways. You’ve got to pay the dues if you wanna sing the blues, and you know it don’t come easy. Cheap punks need not apply.
2. Use Enough Gun. Grizzlies can go from 0 to 40 mph faster than the fastest street car. They can fly uphill and downhill, sail through a swamp, cruise through snow and swim like fish. The big boars will reach ten feet in height, have 28” biceps, 29” skulls and can tip the scales at 1,500 lbs. A puny man with a puny gun is no match for this ultimate predator—especially if he decides to take you on.
While we were there we saw several eco-tourist anti-gun morons with cans of bear spray holstered to their hips to use if a grizzly should decide to snack on them. Bear spray? Are you kidding me? A 1,000 lb bear coming at you at 40 mph will blow right through a cloud of cayenne en route to stomp a mud hole in your chest. Screw bear spray and 30/06s. As for me and my house, we will use at a minimum a .375 H&H Magnum, thank you very much. I recommend the big .40 cals. You see, when I interface with that which can kill me, not only do I want to kill it first, but I also want to stun it, break its bones and knock it down and out as I send it on to bear heaven.
What’s my ham-fisted spiritual lesson from this point? In life if you are going to go for your “trophy,” whatever it is, you’d better go big. Bring your big guns to the table of life. Life is brutal, and if your goal or desire is truly noble, you’ll encounter plenty of opposition in your path ready to pummel you into a grease stain. Never go after your prize under-gunned because you could have your butt handed to you. (Y’know, kinda like the pea shooting GOP did in the last election.)
3. Follow Your Master Guide. One thing that I’ve learned in nearly 47 years of schlepping this pebble is to bow to the true experts in their fields. That’s why I don’t try to teach my wife how to cook, or my Tae Kwon Do instructor how to fight and why I didn’t advise my master bear guide Wayne Woods on how to do his job. As stated, grizzlies are deadly (ask Timothy Treadwell), and some of the terrain we trod was dangerous. It would have been arrogant, stupid and fatal to turn a deaf ear to this man who regularly interfaces with death.
This is why I don’t listen to the Liberal statists or the numb nut RINOs who are currently mucking up our nation and party and instead turn my ear to our nation’s original framers and fathers; they’re the master guides who spawned this amazing American experiment. Our current crop of dweebs thinks we can blow off our Constitution and principles of liberty and not be turned into bear crap. Screw them. I’m kicking it old school with Hamilton, Jefferson, Madison and Paine. In addition, as a Christian, I’ll stick with Moses and Jesus and summarily ignore the capitulating crowd of evangelical weenies who for cash and praise have dissed the ancient path and are headed for the jaws of the beast.