Hunting Black Bears in Alberta: An Exciting & Eventful First Night

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Alberta’s wild terrain offers more than just stunning scenery—it is home to a thriving black bear population, with the species found across roughly three-quarters of the province, mainly in its dense boreal forests. Hunting these animals is vital for the region’s wildlife management and conservation efforts. Many hunters pursue black bears for their meat, hides, and skulls while also helping control the bear population and reduce human-bear conflicts. Additionally, the revenue from hunting licenses and special draws directly supports conservation projects, improving habitats for both game and non-game species.

Recognized as one of North America’s top destinations for big black bear hunting, Alberta attracts hunters from across the continent. The province offers affordable guided hunts and the chance to harvest a trophy animal, with the bonus of being able to take two bears per season. With two hunting seasons—spring and fall—and a high percentage of color-phase bears, it’s no wonder big-game hunters flock to Alberta for the opportunity. 

Last spring, I traveled to Alberta with Mossberg, Hornady, and Swarovski, along with a couple of other outdoor writers, to hunt black bears for the first time. When departure day arrived, I carefully secured my Mossberg Patriot Predator chambered in 6.5 PRC with a Swarovski Z8i+ scope, in a rugged rifle case and locked it up for the flight.

Into my luggage with my other hunting gear, I packed some Hornady Outfitter 6.5 PRC 130 gr. CX—ammo ideal for medium to large game with the CX bullets providing deep penetration and controlled expansion.

Hunting Black Bears Over Bait

We would hunt for six nights, from Monday through Saturday, with each of us holding two black bear tags, plus a timber wolf tag—just in case we were lucky enough to spot one. Our hunt would take place over bait under the guidance of W&L Guide Service, a family-run outfitter based near High Level in northern Alberta. Baiting sometimes gets a bad rap, but it is an effective and ethical method and offers a higher chance of success than the spot-and-stalk method.

It allows hunters to carefully evaluate a bear’s size, age, and gender, leading to more selective kills. By focusing on older boars and avoiding younger bears and sows with cubs, hunters contribute to responsible population management. Baiting also creates close-range shot opportunities, increasing the likelihood of a humane and ethical harvest.

W&L Guide Service has their system dialed in. They know exactly where the big bears roam and keep their elevated stands and bait sites meticulously maintained.

Their network of bait stations spans over 100 square miles, each site strategically placed and consistently refreshed with a mix of oats, marshmallows, and bacon grease throughout the season. In addition to the oat mixture, they use rotten beaver carcasses as bait, hanging them high between trees. If a bear can stand on the ground and easily grab the beaver, we were told, it’s a shooter.

First Night in the Stand

Since I had never hunted bears before and wasn’t quite sure what to expect, Evan Dextraze from Swarovski offered to sit with me the first night. We both climbed into the open elevated stand with our gear and got settled. It was a bit cramped with the two of us, but we made it work. The wooden stand was built between three trees, with a platform roughly 4 feet by 2 feet in size. It was about 15 feet off the ground and located about 30 yards from the bait.

With my Patriot Predator rifle’s safety on, I clicked a loaded 4-round magazine into place, then chambered a fifth round, quietly pushing the oversized bolt handle forward. I looked through the scope while aiming at the bait barrel and worked on finding a comfortable shooting position. Swarovski’s Z8i+ rifle scope features a large eyebox and wide field of view, making it easy to spot a target quickly. Its bright red illuminated reticle is also extremely helpful in the low-light conditions.

The Troublesome Teenager

Around 8 p.m., our first bears—a pair of young males—wandered in, drawn by the scent of the bait. Determining the size and sex of a black bear can be tricky, especially from a distance. Most bears appear large until you get up close. Since we were hunting over bait, we had the advantage of being within close range, making it easier to accurately judge the duo. We could tell the bears were younger by their gangly appearance and ears sticking up on top of their heads. They were slender, with long, lanky legs and narrow bellies that made them look more like awkward teens than formidable predators. As for determining their sex, it was obvious from their distinct anatomy. If we hadn’t been able to clearly see that, another giveaway was that the bears weren’t accompanied by cubs. In the spring, sows typically have their young with them, so the absence of cubs was a strong indicator that these two were males.

As we watched from the stand, the pair got into a scuffle over the bait. It was fascinating to witness their interaction. They continued brawling until one of the bears suddenly caught a whiff of our scent. Bears, despite their poor eyesight, have an incredible sense of smell. They are also naturally inquisitive, and the younger ones—much like teenage boys—are especially bold and mischievous.

The curious bear stood on his haunches and sniffed the air, trying to make sense of our presence. He began walking in our direction, following our scent, to investigate further. Clearly, we had become more interesting to him than the bait. We stayed completely silent, not daring to make eye contact or give him any reason to feel challenged.

It wasn’t long before he was directly below our stand, which was unnerving. While we couldn’t see him from where we sat, we could hear him moving. The bear began climbing the ladder to our stand. I had heard of bears trying to get into stands, but it was supposed to be a rare occurrence. I certainly wasn’t expecting to experience it on my first night. Thank goodness Evan was with me.

“Go away!” Evan commanded firmly as the bear proceeded to climb the ladder. Both of us stomped our feet, trying to seem intimidating. The bear paused for a moment, assessed the situation, and continued climbing. My pulse thundered in my ears, and I could barely breathe.

“Get outta here!” Evan commanded again. He tossed a piece of wood down for good measure. We both stomped our feet, trying to keep the bear from coming any closer. Finally, the bear retreated, scrambling down the ladder and disappearing into the woods. Evan and I exchanged wide-eyed looks as we let out deep sighs of relief. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before the same pesky bear came back to visit us.

Determined to show his dominance, he once again tried to reach us in the stand. We hollered. We stomped. But this time, he wasn’t giving up so easily. Circling below us, he abruptly stopped about 15 feet from our stand, snorted and popped his jaw a few times. Then, before I could even process what was happening, he charged full speed toward the base of our stand. It was a bluff charge, but still possibly one of the scariest moments I have ever experienced. Bears can run up to 40 miles per hour, and when one charges toward you, it's terrifying, especially when you're unsure of its intentions.

After charging us, the bear seemed to feel satisfied with his intimidation efforts and decided to move on. Evan and I sat there in stunned silence for a moment, processing what had just happened. Once the adrenaline settled, we couldn't help but reflect on the encounter. It was a mix of disbelief and relief as we quietly joked about our crazy bear encounter and hoped the troublemaker wouldn’t come back for round three.

A Foul-Smelling Feast

We patiently sat, occasionally scanning the trees with our EL Range 10x32 binoculars for any sign of movement. After some time passed, something in the distance caught my eye. A solo male, bigger than the two youngsters from earlier, was heading toward the bait. He was eyeing the rotten beaver carcass hanging from the pole. If you've never smelled a decaying beaver, it’s the stuff nightmares are made of—an odor that lingers long after you’ve inhaled it. To the bears, it was a five-star meal, and they couldn’t get enough of it.

This bear was a good size, but not quite a shooter. He struggled to reach the dangling beaver from the ground. We watched as he climbed the tree and awkwardly made his way across the branch where the beaver was hanging. It was wild to see such a large animal climb a tree and balance on the tree branch. He yanked a chunk of the carcass, took it to the ground, and began loudly munching on his prize.

The Busted, Old Boar

Without warning, as if something had spooked him, the bear bolted off. Moments later, out of nowhere, a much larger bear strolled in.

It’s true—when you spot a big bear, you just know. This one moved with a distinct heaviness. His gait was wide, his legs thick, and his whole body shifted with a slow, heavy waddle. A deep crease ran down the middle of his forehead, and his ears, small compared to his large skull, were spaced wide across the top of his head. Something about his face was different too. There was an injury to his jaw, making his appearance even more unique.

The bruin waddled over to the bait. I didn’t waste a second and quickly got into position. I followed the bear through the scope, prepared to take the first clear shot. As soon as the bear turned broadside, I lined up the scope’s crosshairs about 4-5 inches behind his shoulder, aiming for a double-lung shot. I took a breath in, and on my slow exhale, pulled the trigger.

The massive bear dropped next to the barrel and let out a deep, haunting sound—the death moan.

Not having heard the moan before, panic set in. I fired another 6.5 PRC Hornady Outfitter round into him to be sure. The first shot was lethal, but I don’t regret the extra shot. I’d rather be certain than ever risk an animal suffering.

Evan was beyond excited for me. I was ecstatic! I had my first bear on the ground on the first night—and he was one big old boar at that! With my deceased bear in sight and not going anywhere, we remained quiet, hoping for a chance at bear No. 2. This time, it would be Evan’s turn.

Here Comes Trouble … Again

Guess who showed up next? The same rascal bear from earlier. He strolled over to the barrel and casually rolled it around to get the grain to fall out, completely unfazed by the huge dead bear lying next to it. Then, as if a light bulb went off in his mischievous little brain, he suddenly remembered us up in the stand. Here we go again.

Without hesitation, he raced toward us, this time even more aggressive than before. He climbed our ladder, getting higher and dangerously close to us. We’d had enough of this youngster. My nerves were shot, and Evan was at his wit’s end, ready to punch one of his tags on this bear. We really didn’t want to waste a tag on this guy, so we decided it was time to call our guide, Kristen, and get the hell out of there.

When Kristen rolled up on the four-wheeler, Evan and I climbed down from the stand. Most bears take off when a guide shows up on a loud ATV, but not our little troublemaker. He stuck around, circling us like he still had something to prove. Kristen, having dealt with bears for over 20 years, knew exactly how to handle the situation. He confidently told the bear to leave and chucked a couple of 4x4s in the bear’s direction to shoo him away so we could get my giant bear loaded up on the quad.

Back at camp, I took a closer look at the injury on my bear’s face. Part of his upper jaw was missing. It was an old injury that had scarred over long ago. It didn’t look like a gunshot wound but rather the result of a scuffle with another bear. I shot an old fighter! So cool.

We skinned my bear and measured him from nose to tail. He was an impressive 7 feet 2 inches! With the skin removed from the skull, we could see his gnarly jaw. It was missing part of the bone, giving him unmistakable character. I still can’t help but wonder about the story behind that injury—what had he been through?

Later, in the main dining lodge, I gathered with the group and shared details of the hunt over a hot bowl of soup. Swapping stories with fellow hunters is one of the best parts of hunting camp, and sharing my first night’s success made the whole experience even more rewarding.

After retreating to my cabin, I sat in bed, reflecting on my thrilling, action-packed evening in the stand. It had been an exciting first night of black bear hunting! The troublemaker bear had stirred things up, but I was grateful for the experience—and for not having to face it alone. Now that I’d been through it, I would know how to handle the situation if it happened again (which it did, later that week). Plus, the rush of harvesting a huge, old boar with a unique jaw made every moment worth it. It would be a privilege to bring that old warrior home. But the best part so far? It was only the first night. The hunt was far from over, and I still had another tag to fill.

Feeling more confident, I was ready to hunt bears solo and eager to see what the coming days would bring.

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