CHAPTER 1
Stories From a Guide's Life
Winter is a relatively quiet time of year for me. Once hunting season comes to an end, I'm back working construction in the city, which means there aren't nearly as many new hunting stories to share.
Over the years, I've had countless people ask me if I've had any interesting experiences after spending more than 16 years and well over 50,000 kilometres exploring the Ontario wilderness by ATV and side-by-side. Others have asked about memorable guests, close calls, funny moments, and the stories that never seem to make it onto social media.
So, I thought it was finally time to start sharing them.
Beginning today, I'll be posting a new story a couple of times each month—some about unforgettable hunts, others about life in the bush, and many about the incredible people I've had the privilege of meeting along the way.
I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I've enjoyed reliving the memories while writing them.
Welcome to...
Stories From a Guide's Life
Enjoy.
Chapter 1 – The First
It was the summer of 2008, and although it feels like yesterday, I was just 20 years old.
I was eager, determined, and trying to prove that I belonged. Looking back now, I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. What I did know was that I wanted to do things my way, even if it meant taking the harder road. Failing was never an option.
Before the season started, I bought every book on black bears I could find and spent countless hours studying their behaviour. I wanted to learn everything I could—not only for myself, but to make sure I could give every hunter the best experience possible.
At the beginning of August, Ken, the previous owner of the hunt camp, and I began preparing for the upcoming season. Twenty-six hunters would arrive on August 31, with opening day set for September 1. It would be my very first season running the camp.
Being nearly half the age of many of the hunters coming, several of whom had more hunting experience than I'd been alive, I knew I'd have to earn their trust. The pressure was on, and I wanted everything to go perfectly.
Back then, we baited with meat scraps, rib bones, and beef fat that we'd collected from a butcher shop a couple of hours away and stored in my brand-new walk-in freezer. We'd fill a plastic milk crate with bait, flip it upside down, secure it with rocks, and splash used deep fryer oil over the bait and nearby trees. The scent carried through the bush and helped bears locate the bait sites.
Every day felt like another lesson.
One of my biggest challenges wasn't baiting the bears—it was remembering where all 60 bait sites were hidden throughout the woods. I had a Lowrance iFinder GPS mounted to the handlebars of my brand-new Suzuki Eiger ATV, and every bait location was saved as a waypoint. My biggest fear wasn't getting lost during the day—it was not being able to find my hunters after dark when it was time to pick them up.
Most bait sites were being hit regularly, but occasionally we'd arrive to find untouched bait that had been sitting for days. By then, it had spoiled.
The smell was something you never forget.
It would be crawling with maggots and covered in black-and-orange carrion beetles, many carrying tiny babies on their backs. For the insects, it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. For the bears, it was no longer appealing.
Cleaning those bait sites wasn't exactly glamorous. We'd shovel out the rotten bait, toss it into the bush—making the raccoons very happy—and replace it with fresh meat before moving on to the next stop.
The week before the season opened, two longtime hunters, Don and John, arrived to help bait the area where they'd be guiding hunters. They had done this for years with Ken, and I soaked up every bit of knowledge they were willing to share.
Then, before I knew it, opening weekend arrived.
Trucks and trailers started rolling into camp.
The quiet woods suddenly became full of excitement, introductions, and anticipation.
Months of preparation had led to this moment.
It was showtime.
I was responsible for five hunters that first evening.
I dropped John and Ed off at bait sites south of camp before taking Rick, Ken, and Guy to stands across the road.
Then the waiting began.
At around 7:30 that evening, my radio crackled.
John had shot a bear at the School House bait.
I can still remember the excitement.
I jumped on the ATV and headed down the trail as fast as I could, anxious to help recover my very first black bear. I'd spent weeks preparing for this moment, yet I'd never actually seen a harvested bear in person.
When I reached John, he told me he'd made a solid shot with his .25-06 and watched the bear run off to the right.
We followed the trail only a short distance before there it was.
A beautiful black bear.
My first one.
Only a few feet away.
I still remember standing there for a moment, simply taking it all in. After weeks of preparation, hard work, and wondering whether everything would come together, this was the moment it finally felt real.
We loaded the bear and headed back to camp.
Even today, nearly two decades later, I can still picture that entire evening. In fact, I remember details from hundreds of bear recoveries over the years. Every hunter has a story, and every successful recovery becomes part of mine as well.
By the end of the week, 24 of our 26 hunters had filled their tags.
When the last truck finally disappeared down the driveway and headed for home, we all took a deep breath.
We were exhausted.
The pressure was gone.
Against all the doubts and uncertainty that had filled my mind leading up to opening day, we'd done it.
We had survived our very first season.
Looking back now, I had no idea that first bear recovery would be the beginning of a journey that would eventually lead to hundreds more and introduce me to so many incredible people from all over North America.
And none of it would have happened without one person.
Thanks, Mom, for believing in a 20-year-old kid, taking a chance on me, and helping me chase a dream that became my life's work.
And to everyone who took the time to read this first story, thank you. I truly appreciate you following along and hope you enjoyed this trip back to where it all began. There are plenty more stories to come, and I look forward to sharing them with you.
Until next time...