Passing The Torch: An Idaho Bear Hunting Adventure

June 13th, 2025

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The day after, A Morale Booster: Overcoming a Bear Drought, Dad, AJ, Adam, and I once again traversed the backroads of Southern Idaho trying to get a bear race going on my birthday, both AJ’s and I’s tags burning holes in our pockets. It’d been a hard week of hunting, and this day wasn’t much better. To quote Dad on this adventure, “You want a bear bad; you get a bad bear.”

Backwards Bear Races

The dog box blew up, the truck came to a hard stop, and my eyes flew open.

The tailgate dropped, and one by one, the strike dogs took off behind us. Their barks filled the canyon, their quick legs climbing up the mountain to the right of us.

Metal clanged and the dog box’s doors flew open. By the time I got out of the truck, stumbling from sleep, the tail end of the back dogs slipped up the mountain.

Dad walked over to where the dogs took off from, and declared, “The fuckers went backwards.”

“What, really?” I asked, pulling up alongside him.

“Yep, the track is right here.” He pointed at a spot in the dirt untouched by the dogs’ tracks.

“Oh.” I mumbled, taking in the imprint of the toes facing the completely opposite direction.

Tacker already beeping, Dad threw over his shoulder. “I’m going to shock them off of the backtrack and try and get ‘em going the right way.” 

It took a good ten minutes, but eventually we got them all back. In the meantime, AJ and Adam snored away in the backseat, both their heads slumped against their windows, too tired to care about the race. 

I mean I didn’t blame them after the slow week they’d had. But I was fired up and ready to run a bear, and well, fill my tag. It was my birthday after all. Killing a bear would be icing on the cake of a great day.

I could feel it. We were going to get this race straightened out. No matter what it took. 

Little did I know just how true that was, or what we’d have to go through to achieve it, and it all started with ‘The Hell Hole’.

To The Hell Hole We Go

I gassed it to Dad, gravel crunching as I slammed to a stop a few feet short of him. Jumping out, I ran for the edge of the road, head turning side to side as I attempted to catch sight of a strike dog or a bear winding through the thicket below.

The rest of the dogbox went next, their tails quickly slipping out of view. Before we knew it, they’d all hit the bottom, a good five hundred yards below, and made their way back up the other side, their barking never letting up.

A smile tugged at my lips. “I forgot just how well we could hear the dogs here.” 

“Yep, it’s pretty nice. But the terrain is not the best.” Dad replied, taking in the steep mountains around us.

“Yeah, I sure don’t miss hiking it. But I do miss being able to see and hear the races so well.” I side-eyed the open clearcut to the right of us. Sage brush, some random flowers, edged around by some sparklings of pine trees, all made for a great place to see and hear a bear, compared to the thicket of mess that was the area we were used to hunting, but was also twice as steep with fewer roads threaded through them.

“Unfortuntley the dogs are headed for the hell hole that is the other side.” Dad grumbled, changing the direction of the conversation.

My brow rose of its own accord. “What do you mean? What’s over there?”

He looked up from the tracker, meeting my gaze. “Nothing.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s towards the river between Featherville and Bumgarder. No roads. No camps. Nothing.” He rubbed at his chin, causing a sandpaper-like sound.

Damn it. They better come back. I got a bear to kill…

Come Back…

Aj pulled up alongside me, eyes blood-shot-red, and hood still pulled up. 

I eyed him, shook my head, then clued him into our developing situation. “They’re across the way and headed into what Dad refers to as, ‘The Hell Hole’.”

“Yeah, I know.” AJ responded with an eye roll.

“Oh yeah, I guess you guys have been out here all week, huh? So, he’s probably mentioned the area to ya by now.” I nodded to myself, trying to play off feeling stupid. 

AJ crossed his arms. “Yep.”

Looking up from his tracker, Dad mumbled around his lip full of chew, “They should be coming up into that clearcut any minute now.” 

We waited, eyes peeled for the dogs in the clearcut across the way for all of two minutes.

“There they are!” I exclaimed, catching sight of a dog moving through some bushes.

“Where?” Dad asked.

“Right below that tree!” I pointed to a landmark that hovered over the clearing the dogs were currently running through.

Rubbing his face, Dad questioned, “There’s a lot of trees over there, what do you mean, that tree?” 

After some more pointing and arguing, Dad and AJ finally caught sight of the last few dogs. There was no bear out in front of them, at least that we saw, and before we knew it, they’d all topped over into the shit hole that Dad had warned us about.

“Come back…” Dad whispered wistfully.

“What? Are you actually hoping to call ’em back?” I laughed.

Dad smirked. “Yep. I got them trained just that well.” 

I shook my head, laughing at his antics. You wish.

But actually, we all wished.

Running in Circles

Driving back towards camp, we waited out the dogs at the next big point before committing to the two hour drive around to ‘The Hell Hole’. Thank the lucky stars we did too, because twenty minutes later they looped their way back to us. But not only did a man get left behind – Ace, an eight-year-old male blue-tick walker mix – but the dogs had gotten strung out, leaving us buckled in for a bumpy ride ahead.

Gravel spit from the tires, the dogs inched closer, and AJ and I sat half out our windows waiting for the opportunity to spot them coming our way. 

“There!” AJ yelled, pointing out his window right behind me.

The breaks went to screeching.

Squinting, a brown butt slipping into the timber below caught my attention. “Oh yeah, there it goes!” I added.

We all jumped out, running to catch the bear peeking through the timber below. To our dismay though, it didn’t appear, plus the lead dogs ended up being a good two hundred yards behind it, the rest of the pack trailing another several hundred yards behind them.

With some serious back and forth-ing, we hauled around after the bear and the dogs, catching sight of them once or twice more as we went from where we struck to the point where AJ and I caught sight of it. (As seen on the tracker below.)

Then things took a turn for the worst. 

This Might Be A Little Stupid

The rear end of the truck fishtailed. The bear running straight at us, hit its own breaks, and dashed off to the left – back off into the bottom of the canyon.

The dogs, even farther behind than they were twenty minutes ago, took a good minute before one, and then another reached us. Despite Dad’s best effort to get them to chase Speedy Gonzales, aka the bear, they refused to leave the road. Instead hitting the ground next to the truck, panting for all they were worth.

The steering wheel squelched in Dad’s hands as he drove along collecting the rest of the lead and middle dogs. Still very peeved at the dogs for quitting, he announced to the truck, “It might be a little stupid, but I’m dumping them all back in on this sucker.”

And so we did. Driving back to where the bear crossed ten minutes earlier, we dumped all that we’d collected loose. It took only about twenty seconds of directing them, but once they caught its scent, they all screamed after the bear once again, trailing through the thicket below.

While Dad called in Lady and Rider, some of the last few back dogs left, the lead dogs picked up the other dog still out running – Showtime – and then headed back to where AJ saw it again.

Watching the dogs starting to scatter again, Dad said, “I think we’re going to go back to camp and grab the rest of the dogs and get them in on this race. These ones are whooped, we’ll never catch this thing unless we get something fresh on it.”

Running in Circles – Part Two

Loaded down with four new dogs, we wound our way back to the race.

Before we got to the spot where the bear turned multiple times – where AJ and I caught sight of it earlier in the day – Ace lit up on the tracker, and then the rest of the dogs, who are once again over by where we struck the bear, rounding up both end points of the bear’s current radius.

“Looks like Ace is about to where we turned the bear.” I fiddled with the mounted tracker’s screen, zooming in on his location.

Dad fussed with his hand-held Garmin, one hand still on the wheel. “Looks like it. The lead dogs are going to cross the road here quickly, I don’t want to miss it, we need to get these dogs in on this race.”

“Okay.”

We pulled up to the crossing point of where Ace was headed too, despite Dad’s reluctance to wait, which meant we missed the lead dogs crossing. Then the bear, being the pain that it was, didn’t cross again, instead side-hilling the road until it climbed back to where we’d just come from – camp.

Circling back with them, for like the fourth or fifth time in as many hours, we watch them progress on the tracker, their barks having faded to only a bark or two here and there. Right when we thought they’d lost it, something phenomenal happened. 

A Walking Bear

Trees whipped by as we made a mad dash down the road, the dogs intent on crossing down low. We were just about to declare the bear had whooped the dogs, then all of a sudden they booked it straight for the road.

The ‘Oh Shit’ handle dug into my hand, upper body half out the window in an attempt to get the crossing on camera. 

We hit the lower split, took a left, and stopped. The second the engine shut off, Chewy, Jade, and Jill’s barking filled the air.

They teased us, sticking to the brush to the left of the road. Then right when the cameras shut off, the blasted bear jumped out of the thicket and hit the road. 

“Damn it! I just turned my camera off!” I laughed-grumbled, running straight for the bear, phone out and recording.

From there, the bear walked around to the right of the road, slowly moving up and over the next ridge. We sat around waiting, hoping the fresh set of dogs we’d just dumped in would push the bear to tree.

To our dismay, especially for me and AJ, the two with tag’s burning holes in their pockets, it continued to walk the dogs. Down to the next road, we wound after them once again as the bear side-hilled, refusing to cross.

The dogs’ baying grew ever increasingly closer, never to cross of course, just enough to excite us into jumping out and walking the road with the rifle, but first, there was still the debate of who was going to shoot.

You Shoot It! No, You Shoot It!

“You can shoot it if you want, Araya. It is your birthday after all.” AJ said from the backseat.

“No, it’s okay. You can. I’m totally okay with waiting or not getting one this year.” I’d had twenty-one years of hunting alongside Dad in my belt, it was time I started letting up the reins and letting others take advantage of Dad’s eagerness to take us hunting.

“But, it’s your birthday.” AJ reiterated, still stuck more on the fact that we knew this bear was no monster. It was pretty average, nothing special – besides the color – which was exactly the opposite of what he wanted. No what he did want was a bear that rivaled my 400 pounder from 2023. Not this tiny thing in comparison. 

I couldn’t blame him, I’d been in the same boat for twelve years, joining every hunt I could from the age of nine until I’d gotten that monster bear. It was a journey, and one that eventually taught me it was more about enjoying the adventures along the way, rather than the end result itself. 

“No, you go ahead. Dad wants to get you your bear.” I said, brokering no argument. It was a hard pill to swallow, letting go of that control. But I was no longer Dad’s little girl. No, I was twenty-six today. The sun had set on my ability to hog Dad’s hunting time. It was officially time to let AJ be the son I never was. Dad needed it. AJ needed it. And I needed to let it happen no matter how much it stung.

“Okay.” AJ shrugged, and in no time, the thrill of the hunt filled him, chasing off after Dad like a lost little puppy.

Showdown With A Walking Bear

Air coming in heavy rasps, Adam and I chased Dad and AJ down the road, who were in turn chasing down the bear and dogs, still parralleling the road. 

Dad and AJ pulled further and further away as we neared a split in the road. Taking the left, and then veering off to follow the ridge instead of the road, the two ran into the timber.

I slowed, halting Adam. “We should probably stay back, I don’t want one of us to get shot on accident if we chase after them.” I bent over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Man, I need to get in shape.

“Okay.” Adam nodded, his usual mess of curls missing from his head bob. 

Ears perked, we waited for gun shots over the next few minutes, but the only thing we heard was our own panting.

Clearing my throat, I said, “We should probably head back and grab the truck.” I straightened, but before I could move, a gun shot rang out.

“Bang.”

Holding still, we waited for more gun fire, but after thirty seconds of silence, I decided it was best we head for the truck. It was an effort to run, so mostly we fast walked, then drove back to our waiting spot.

Grass smushed underfoot, the stream to the right of us babbling as Adam and I hiked into Dad and AJ’s position. However, we went in from below, while Dad and AJ hauled the bear up the mountainside to the right of us, hitting the road I’d been clueless of.

The End Of The Walking Bear

Turning around after realizing our fatal mistake, Adam and I headed back to the truck, still clueless as all hell to how the situation had turned out. Because we were still operating on the assumption that the bear was in fact dead. But, for all we knew, it was still alive, and AJ had missed.

But at Dad’s arrival at the truck, we were notified that not only did Aj kill the bear, but that there was a road we could’ve driven right up to him on.

So, taking the wheel again, because Dad did not want to, I drove us the last few hundred yards to AJ, the dead bear, and the dogs. 

“That’s perfect picture.” Dad said, taking in AJ sitting in the middle of the road, rifle in hand, the dead bear to his right, and all the dogs sitting around him, catching their breaths.

It was a fitting end to our crazy adventure running and walking this troublesome bear. For me it was only day two, but for the guys it was day seven, a long time to wait to kill a bear, but they’d done it.

In the end, we’d run the bear in several circles, dumped dogs on it multiple times, chased it on foot, and then inevitably halted the walking bear. The day had its ups, and for sure its downs, but we’d done it. We’d gotten us a bear, all thanks to the dogs, and Dad’s firm determination to get this race going, then going twice more, and then ended. The hunt, like any other, would not have been possible without him.

Passing The Torch

While I wished to finish out the weekend’s hunt with my own bear, it wasn’t in the cards for me. AJ’s bear was the only one we harvested, and only one of two bears the guys ran for a whole ten days, both of which I’d gotten to be a part of. 

It was a major bummer to not get my own bear, especially on my birthday. However, I was still thrilled to see AJ kill his. I might love getting the chance to kill my own., but my opportunity to be Dad’s number one priority hunter had set with my seventh bear. It was AJ’s turn. I’d already had seven lovely goes at it. It was time to let go.

One thing about hunting I’d come to learn was, you can’t go into it expecting a ‘trophy kill’. Because once the universe heard that, it’d throw you all sorts of curve balls. No, the most fun, and memorable hunts were the ones where you simply enjoyed the adventure, no ulterior motive in hand.

Life is an adventure worth living, and sometimes you just have to find what really clicks with your soul to make that journey that much more worth living, and for me that was bear hunting – specifically with those that I loved. 

If you want to watch this hunt in video format, check out the link below!

https://www.tiktok.com/@arayanicole_20/video/7529280457314143502?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7524070114279835166

Other Related Articles

A Morale Booster: Overcoming a Bear Drought

Tell Me About Your Story

Do you have a passing the torch story you can share? If so, please let me know in the comments below!

Well that is all she adventured, live life to the fullest and get out and hunt!!

Araya Rasmussen

July 20th, 2025