Wyoming Women Battle Bold Black Bear During Bighorn Camping Trip ⛺️

I’m currently at the “it’s Thursday already?” phase of the workweek and am unsure as to whether or not that is a good thing as of yet.

With that in mind, let’s all take a minute to grab a coffee or whiskey (no judgement) and get this Thursday morning dispatch out the door.

Here's what's worth reading about today:

CLOSE CALL
WYOMING WOMEN FIGHT OFF BOLD BLACK BEAR ATTACK DURING CAMPING TRIP IN THE BIGHORNS

Late Sunday night, a pair of experienced Wyoming outdoorswomen were settling into their tents deep in the Bighorn Mountains when a large black bear decided to aggressively check on their setup.

Shonna Kaye Dehl of Lovell and Maggie Bassett of Powell have plenty of experience camping in the Bighorns and, on their most recent trip, decided to settle in on Fool Creek with four dogs in tow. Among the furry campers included two German shepherds, a Labrador retriever and  another shepherd. With plenty of company, Bassett and Dehl followed standard bear-country protocols, including a clean camp and adequate food storage before peacefully drifting off to sleep Sunday night.

At around 11 p.m., that peaceful slumber ended…

🎣 Massive 113.7-Pound Flathead Sets New South Carolina State Record. Joseph Driggers of Florence, South Carolina, landed an absolute unit while fishing the Big Pee Dee River on June 10th. In the midst of 100-degree heat, he hooked what he first believed was a large blue catfish, only to discover it was a massive flathead that ended up tipping the scales at over 113 pounds.

Driggers and his brothers were preparing to head home when the big one hit cut bait around 1 p.m. After a solid fight, he boated the fish by hand-gilling it aboard. The old cotton scale at the Skinning Shed read 113 pounds, but Driggers knew he had to get this monster on a certified scale for it to carry any real weight. After alerting SCDNR to the catch, biologists quickly certified the cat on a proper scale where it officially weighed in at 113.7 pounds. Biologists took samples from the record fish for research, and estimated the fish to be roughly 23 years old. Driggers’ family has since enjoyed the meat as catfish nuggets, which he says taste every bit as good as those from smaller fish. The fish shattered South Carolina’s previous state record by nearly 30 pounds.

🐰 Arizona Officials Urge Hunters to Help Slow Spread of Deadly Rabbit Virus. Arizona wildlife officials are calling on small game hunters to help slow the spread of Rabbit Hemorrhagic Disease Virus Type 2 (RHDV-2), which continues to circulate widely among the state’s wild rabbit populations. First detected in Arizona in the spring of 2020, the highly contagious virus has caused significant declines in native lagomorphs, including cottontails, black-tailed jackrabbits, and antelope jackrabbits. While cottontail numbers have rebounded somewhat, jackrabbit populations remain below pre-outbreak levels.

The meat from exposed rabbits is safe for human consumption, but officials strongly recommend that hunters properly dispose of carcasses away from the field to limit further transmission. RHDV-2 spreads through direct contact with bodily fluids, feces, or remains, and can also be carried by predators or scavengers. In the meantime, hunters are encouraged to report any unusual wildlife deaths to the Arizona Game and Fish Department.

🐻 Grizzly Bear Reintroduction Bill Advances in California Assembly. California lawmakers took another step this week toward reintroducing grizzly bears to the state more than a century after they were wiped out. An Assembly bill to study the feasibility of bringing back the quarter-ton predators advanced through the Water, Parks and Wildlife Committee by an 8-2 vote (it had already cleared the Senate). Grizzlies once roamed widely across California, but habitat loss, conflicts with humans, and bounties drove them to local extinction by the early 1900s.

While the bill frames the effort as a thoughtful scientific study, it carries a familiar and potentially catastrophic storyline that includes plenty of excitement about whether they can bring back grizzlies, with far less apparent focus on whether they truly should. Reintroducing apex predators into one of the most densely populated and developed states in the country is the kind of grand ecological experiment that sounds noble on paper but tends to create very real headaches for people, livestock, and wildlife managers on the ground. It’s now headed to the full California Assembly for a floor vote.

🦛 I guess this is why they call them waterbucks. Watch as this young waterbuck evades this croc (who somehow fails not to take it down despite being in its natural environment) and who is finally rescued when a hippopotamus suddenly intervenes and saves the day.

It isn’t often you see a croc that sloppy…

🐻 The Mission to Kill Old Ephraim: As his horse crested the hill, Frank Clark saw the buzzards circling up ahead. The odds were that another of his sheep was dead. He wiped the sweat from his brow, cursing the bear-infested wilderness, then pushed on into sweltering Utah summer heat. Upon arrival at the remains of the mangled carcass, he noticed a familiar grizzly track with only three toes on one foot—a common occurrence at his sheep kills.

He made another hashmark on his log of sheep lost to bears, then continued down the trail. He would finish that first summer in the Cache National Forest with 154 marks in his log.

Frank Clark moved from Idaho to Utah in 1911 to get into the sheep business. As part owner of the Ward Clark Sheep Company, he had a vested interest in the unusually high predation on his livestock. Within two years, he would make it his life’s mission to track and kill one of the last grizzlies in the area. Read the full story.

🦅 Lone Eagle: He drove 70 miles of rugged road carved through bush country in the Outaouais region of western Quebec. The final leg of a long haul. Three weeks into May along the Canadian Shield meant rutting bears. Jack had bow sights set on a big boar. He followed camp owner Gille Charbonneau from the lodge to an old logger road crossing birch and conifer forest. It led to a clearing where two cabins faced the Coulonge River. Gille outfitted fishermen and moose hunters and boarded woodsmen in winter. He hired Raymond Lafleur to guide bear hunters.

Jack unpacked and sorted the gear in his cabin. He carried in an armload of split birch and stacked it by the woodstove. He ate a can of sardines and then shot his bow before the evening hunt. Raymond Lafleur watched from the porch as three arrows struck bullseye.

“That’s a dead bear,” he said, lifting his coffee mug. Read the full story.

🏞️ Days on the Dan : The heart of tobacco country, south central Virginia near the North Carolina border, is not what one thinks of as a trout haven; it’s more the land of largemouth bass, pumpkinseeds, and catalpa worms. Lazy summer days spent with cane poles and worms along the side of small creeks, stock tanks, and golf course ponds. But most of the slow, lazy rivers that wind their way through this farmland start off as crystal clear mountain streams rushing down from the not-too-distant Blue Ridge mountains.

Leaving the flatlands, the Dan slowly winds back in time. The Dan gets rougher and starts to look “trouty”, but the beat-up old station wagons, 15-year-old Coleman tents, and unwelcoming glares suggest it is better to keep climbing. Besides, this part of the river is firmly Powerbait country. Lawn chairs are set up along the more promising pools, with cutoff jeans and trucker caps the standard attire. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not an elitist. These boys catch trout, and big ones too.  Read the full story.

Oh, and one more thing…