Joey's Grizzly Hunting Adventure

Rocky Mountain Adventures made my thirty year dream a reality.

Imagine the pressure on a guide when the hunter on the other end of the telephone tells him, “A grizzly hunt has been my dream for 30 years. I can only afford one opportunity to make it come true.” I wouldn’t want to be in that position. Mike and Marika  Ramosch were willing to take on that challenge and I appreciated it and benefitted from it.

I have been hunting since childhood, so I know there is a reason why we call it hunting and not harvesting, because there are no guarantees.  Knowing that I could only try my best to stack the deck in my favor, I read Montain Hunter from GOABC and several other publications for several years and spent a lot of time looking at websites, followed up by phone calls and the usual visits with outfitters and booking agents at sportsmen shows.  From the first time I talked to Mike Ramosch, my gut told me that he was the one.  He gave me references to call that were both unsuccessful and successful and most of all he impressed me as a straight shooter.  I remember him saying, “I promise you that you will see grizzlies and after that, it is hunting.”  That was all I could ask for or expect.

The journey to achieving a dream means as much as the dream… Those three months seemed like three years.  Finally, I found myself pulling into RMA bear camp.  From the first morning when Mike introduced me to his family and crew, I knew I was going to have a good hunt no matter what my success was.  The Robson Valley proved to be a North American version of the African Serengeti. Every day I encountered moose, black bear, deer, elk, grizzly and dozens of goats that proved to be a great distraction while glassing for grizzly.  True to his word, it didn’t take long to spot my first grizzly bear. Surprisingly that first sighting met all of my expectations; the location, the company and most of all the sight of the very creature that had filled so many day dreams and visions throughout the years was awesome.
The grizzly appeared in the middle of a snow slide, marked by tracks and slide marks, that was obviously his home base.  He disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.  The thumping in my chest was audible.

We spent the next three days hunting that bear; passing on bears that were just as beautiful but not as grand.  I am grateful to Mike for holding my eagerness in check, and not allowing me to persuade us in to stalking a lesser bear.  We decided to look at some new country after “ole cranky” evaded our stalks for three days.  In hind sight, we couldn’t have made a better choice, with the exception of not taking Marika and her video camera with us on that day.  We spent the first couple of hours perched on a point overlooking multiple avalanche chutes.  Our progress up the drainage had been brought to a conclusion by an avalanche across the trail.  But with a log (serving as portable winch anchor) and pushing and pulling by two determined hunters, we were able to get the quad across the avalanche.  I must admit the idea seemed a little crazy at first, but I am always game for an adventure. We remounted the quad and were back on our way.  It didn’t take long before we were stopped by Mike pointing to the far ridge.  With great authority, a magnificent bear, with blonde tipped hair and dark legs, traversed down the mountain. He seemed to be headed toward a slide that terminated at the river in the bottom of the canyon.  The race was on, down the mountain we went, sometimes punching through the soft spring snow to our waists.  We had lost sight of our quary the minute we left the trail, so when we arrived at the river I hurriedly checked all possible openings.  No bear!  I hoped we had beaten him to the river, but there was no way to know.  I found a shooting position near the river’s edge and nervously ranged every opening on the mountain.  Mike was behind me in the shadows of the forest’s edge.  He soon alerted me to a cow moose running down the far river’s edge. Later he told me that he knew what was coming next.  But at that time, I had one thing on my mind and it wasn’t a moose.  I raised my range finder to range an opening I am sure I had already ranged two or three times.  I lowered my range finder just in time to witness the king of the mountain appearing from behind some willows just 30 yards across the river from me.  I quickly anchored him with my 300 RUM where he stood…..

Often strong desire and then fulfillment can result in an anticlimax.  Well not this time.  From the location in the beautiful Northern Rockies to the Ramosch family and crew, this experience lived up to everything I had ever dreamed. 

I returned to British Columbia a month later with my wife and son. We traveled several hours out of the way just to see a glimpse of my experience.  To be able to tell my son, “ behind that mountain over there with the snow still on the peak, is where your dad got his grizzly”  brought a smile to my face.  The Robson Valley didn’t disappoint my son either.  He was able to see several black bears along the road.  We were also lucky enough have the opportunity to spend a couple of days with the Ramosch family.  We are planning a return trip in the near future to pursue the mountain goats and spend time with the RMA crew. Trust me when I say, this is just a mere glimpse of my experience with RMA. Maybe someday around the fire we will share some of those great stories that the Norwegians and the Dane’s shared with me in our common language of “hunting.” Perhaps we will tell the story of Marika and the stream, and hear Brennan with his famous jokes, or Darcy the cowboy,  and you might even discover how I earned the name “Dirty Lefty.”

Thank you again, Mike and Marika, for taking on the burden of helping me fulfill one of my life long dreams. You made this adventure so much more for me than just a client on a guided hunt.  Hope to see you in the mountains!

by Joe Delvo, WA