I’m not a guy who nicknames every bear caught on camera, but after viewing the first images of “Loverboy” seven years ago, I realized he had a modus operandi when it came to getting his photo taken. It was as if he knew exactly where the camera was set up and waited for just the right moment to pose for the picture. The most memorable photo of Loverboy was when he leaned back, exposing himself in all the grandeur of nature—no doubt a boar! Loverboy also prefers interior blondes, and his girlfriends reminded me of the Farrah Fawcett poster I may or may not have had pinned up in the 80s. Loverboy is an amazing grizzly bear for interior Alaska, and we watched him grow from a modest 8-footer to an estimated 9-footer over the years.   

Year after year, Loverboy would grace us (and the local ladies) with his presence. His fondness for showing off for the trail camera became comical, and frame after frame he clearly gave us a tutorial on how the grizzly bear genes were spread. This particular bait site was better than most I’ve set up and hunted over. Shooting a few quality black bears there is inevitable, but with Loverboy and his friends around, you may just get a shot at a real whopper of a grizzly if you play your cards right. A couple years ago, a bowhunting buddy of mine sat at this bait for about 72 hours, just to see Loverboy saunter in around 3:00 a.m., but it was just too dark to take the shot. Loverboy has remained elusive for all who have tried to hunt him since.   

After I began hunting with my intellectually disabled daughter, Teagan, I put the bow down for a few years and was a bit out of practice. Teagan said I could bow hunt for Loverboy solo if I promised her a black bear hunt before the end of season. Anticipating this hunt, I began a strict shooting regime throughout winter and spring. If Loverboy found me worthy of a shot opportunity, I surely didn’t want to blow it. I planned on getting dropped off to hunt on June 11th and sit in an elevated pop-up blind for up to a week, if necessary. My new see-through hub blind was set and everything was strategically placed around the ever-important shooting lane—all within 36 square feet. I drew the bow back a few times and adjusted the window for maximum shooting space and minimal mosquito intrusion. 

I kept a journal throughout this hunt, and reading it nearly a year later helped clear the cobwebs to share this story. The first night, I made it to 4:30 a.m. before I laid down and covered myself with a light, down sleeping bag to get a little shuteye since nothing had been at the bait since I arrived. It was cooler than I had expected; the wind was picking up from the wrong direction and it rained throughout the day. 

“24 hours on stand and not a single bear…this never happens!” Journal log: 6/12/23, 4:00 p.m. 

32 hours into the hunt and finally a beautiful, Loverboy-worthy sow grizzly bear came into view. She approached the bait, sniffed the air, then ran off so quickly that if I had blinked, I would’ve missed her. Shortly after that, two small grizzlies came in separately three times and fed for about 20 minutes each. The first black bear paid me a visit just prior to 3:00 a.m. and he was literally swinging from beaver carcasses hanging high in the trees. To say he got 12’ off the ground quickly was a massive understatement, and it made me rethink my 7-foot height advantage. He fed on the beaver and other tid-bits on the ground for over an hour. Nothing much else happened and I soon fell asleep.   

My freezing feet woke me up around 11:00 a.m. I warmed some coffee, had a bite, checked in on the inReach, and did some stretching and push ups to warm up. A cold wind picked up throughout the day, but 50 hours into the hunt, I had a pair of black bears come in for an evening snack. Shortly before 8:00 p.m. the pretty blonde sow grizzly came in and chased the black bears away. She was truly gorgeous, and I couldn’t help being hyper vigilant thinking Loverboy was nearby, just out of sight.  

“After reading Chapter 20 of Shadows on the Koyukuk (Jim Rearden & Sidney Huntington) which describes spearing grizzly bears, I simply wrote, ‘No, thanks!’” Journal log: 6/13/23, 1:00 p.m. 

There always has to be at least one bear who really tests your patience. A decent black bear came in under me and was obnoxiously charging my location, posturing in his most dominant pose and huffing like crazy to get a reaction from me. I peered down at him and he peered up at me, then he’d start thrashing about again. I can deal with all those antics on the ground, but I got irritated when he decided to come up and pay me a visit at eye level and arm’s reach. I used a bicycle water bottle to spray a strong stream of water directly in his face, then he slowly returned to the ground and looked over his shoulder as if saying, “I’ll be back”. 

Various bears came and went until shortly before midnight, but then the forest was silent. Feeling the chill, I wrapped my sleeping bag tightly around me, preparing to endure another night. Getting warm caused me to nod off for a minute, or at least that’s what it felt like. Who knows how long my eyes were actually closed, but when I squinted through the sleepy haze all I saw was the rear end of Loverboy disappearing up the trail. A sick feeling fell over me knowing I just blew it. The massive pin-striped rump waddling into the thick birch seemed to signal “nice try.” I remained alert for a few more hours while shivering, but finally drifted off to a deep sleep after bear activity came to a halt. 

“I slept so hard I could have been dragged out of the blind like a beaver carcass…not safe!” Journal log: 6/14/23, 9:15 a.m. 

A cold, rainy morning further dampened my spirits after the missed encounter with Loverboy, and self-doubt was creeping in. I always contemplate how much easier everything is when you are not alone, it’s daylight, and the weather is nice. But what a difference being dark, cold, wet, and alone makes in the mental game of hunting. Going home is an easy inReach message away but seeing this hunt through could be epic. After 64 hours of complete silence, I muttered out loud, “You can do it!” So the hunt for Loverboy continued. 

I was more than motivated for a 12-hour sit just hoping I’d have another opportunity like the night before. The temperature dropped, producing a thick fog that slowly oozed its way up from the lake. Now we just needed someone to que the monster grizzly bear. Instead, I was tormented by a black bear dead set on getting in my blind with me. The water bottle trick no longer worked, and I resorted to a few gentle taps of Glock muzzle to bear muzzle to put him in reverse. I bundled up, shivering all night as the bear activity continued both at the bait and at my platform. Two black bears and a medium grizzly took turns chasing each other off the bait, creating quite the ruckus until 4:30 a.m. The activity died down and after 12 hours I couldn’t stay vertical any longer. Another unsuccessful night had passed; it had been 86 hours. 

Things got fuzzy after that. I was out cold around 7:00 a.m. when a black bear came in under the blind and began clawing its way up towards me. Zipped down deep in my bag, feet still freezing, I just listened. Thankfully, I heard him walk away and begin chomping dog food. Another solid hour of deep sleep went by before I was awakened by this strange tap, tap, tap on the top of my head, which was pressed against the mesh blind. It was the scampering of a red squirrel cleaning up pieces of split trail mix. I woke up intending to go back to sleep, feeling annoyed by the nerve of the squirrel. Then I heard it: steady, heavy breathing right beneath me. I was angry and just knew it was another black bear on his way up the tree, so I was not quiet while getting to my feet. I was so tired, so cold, and frankly pretty ticked off at this bear by now. Stomping around, I kicked my sleeping bag behind my chair and looked directly down in front of my blind to see the massive, brown outline of a grizzly bear just seven feet below me, walking slowly towards the bait. It was around 8:45 a.m. and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t spooked it while getting upright. This was the biggest bear I’d seen so far, and I was doing all the mental calculations as to whether or not this was Loverboy. I didn’t see the telltale pinstripe down its back and from my quick size-up, I couldn’t put this bear over 8’. Then I saw a second bear already at the bait: Loverboy was here and now we were getting somewhere. 

“Next 45 minutes are chaos! Flustered to get up and awake, grab release, knock an arrow, open blind, no time for camera, and holy sh*%, it’s really him!” Journal log: 6/15/23, 8:45 a.m. 

Never would I have expected two grizzly bears of this caliber to show up mid-morning! It just goes to show, you never really know what’s going to happen. Even though Loverboy was obviously courting this bear—who turned out to be a big sow—the two were not all that friendly yet. I’m used to seeing black bears tussle, growl, and fight at the bait, but when Loverboy and his girl went at it, the ground shook. The sow eventually took over the bait and began to feed. She tossed a full 55-gallon drum around with one paw like it was a 5-gallon pail. 

Loverboy began circling the bait clockwise over and over again. His head swing, gait, and ripped muscle told the entire forest who was king, daring anyone or anything to challenge him. I felt miniscule just 32 yards away with my bow in hand waiting for a perfect shot; marginal was not an option. I was on autopilot now and came to full draw at least 10 times during that 45-minute standoff. Loverboy would periodically stop while pacing, drool pouring from his lower lip, while he eyed up the sow feeding contentedly.  

I knew where and when I wanted to release an arrow, but I just needed him to stop broadside and clear the sow behind him. The window was essentially two steps, one perfect broadside and the other slightly quartering away. Finally, everything slowed to nearly a stop, the woods were quiet, I was no longer cold or tired, and I found myself at full draw, focused on what I imagined to be a direct line to Loverboy’s heart. There was no thought process when I released the arrow; it was the perfect shot I had been waiting 90 hours for. 

The hit was true and uneventful. Loverboy exited up a trail at about ½ speed. The sow paid no attention and kept up with her caloric intake for another 20 minutes before leaving. The waiting game ensued, and it was hard not to let self-doubt creep in. I was fatigued, cold, and groggy at best when I released the arrow. Did I make the right call? Was my shot where I thought it was? After a cup of coffee and watching a few black bears come and go, I decided to get down on the ground; I hadn’t set foot on dirt in four days.  

To think what transpired just an hour and a half ago after being awakened by a squirrel seemed almost surreal. I shot a 570-grain arrow and found ½ of it broken off and bloodless about 10 yards away. As my heart sank, I really began to second guess everything I did up to now. I looked at the thick brush around me wondering if it was my turn to take the brunt of a wounded Loverboy. As I took a few steps up the trail, there was no blood to be found. 

Not wanting to push the situation, I sent an inReach message and soon enough my buddy splashed down in the Cessna 185. I advised him of the events that transpired as he retrieved two 12ga. bear-specific shotguns from the airplane. At the bear’s trail, I walked him through the shot and the bear’s reaction afterwards. My buddy was not optimistic, so all we could do was head down the dark, narrow trail where he had disappeared. The first crimson spatter I saw 25 yards from where my arrow struck was very dark in contrast to the birch bark it landed on. Slowly crawling forward, my eyes picked up more and more dark red blood splashed onto the forest floor. I came to a decayed birch log that had blood spattered down its bark and as my gaze went beyond the log, a brown, fuzzy form began to take shape just a few yards in front of me. I cautiously approached the bear, which laid dead just 40 yards after being shot clean through the heart. 

There were neither high-fives nor howls of elation, we simply paid our respects, gave thanks, and took a few pictures before beginning the butchering process. While working on the bear, my buddy mentioned that he wasn’t 100% convinced this boar was actually Loverboy. This bear squared 8.5’ with a 24.75 inch skull. My buddy was sure that Loverboy was bigger and darker than this bear, but with few photos from this season, the bear that sat before us was by far the biggest that visited the bait that season. Or so we thought. After cleaning up the bait site in late June, we examined the last of the trail camera pictures for the year. Sure enough, in true Loverboy fashion, a single photo of a massive, dark grizzly bear’s backside was captured as if saying “better luck next time”.