Jeff and I Went Bear Hunting

Jeff and I went bear hunting...
North West Montana is a lovely place. Hunting, Fishing, Hiking, just about anything that can be done outdoors should be done somewhere near Browning, MT. Jeff who isn't a real hunting nut, won a trip for two to hunt the majestic Grizzly Bear in Montana from his employer, a notable fire-arms manufacturer that apparently decided he needed some excitement. His first logical choice for a partner was me of course! Likely due to the fact I told him he would be minus certain body parts if he chose anyone else.
All expenses were paid, except for a hunting Guide. We had to choose a guide and pay him ourselves. I don't personally believe in hunting guides (overload of testosterone, I suppose) but Jeff insisted, claiming something about safety, concerning the issue of hunting an animal that weighs as much as a car and has a tendency to attack humans and dismember them for no other reason than to amuse themselves.
At sundown the night before the hunt, we wondered into a pub. A pub, not a bar, as you know I don't believe in those sorts of places. It seemed as if all the good guides were already booked for the opener. So, we asked around and the bartender referred us to a man in the corner booth. As we approached, the man's countenance changed from a smile, to a look of, "Oh God, OUT OF STATE BEAR HUNTERS". Jeff introduced us to Rusty. Although he didn't seem much like a guide with one eye missing and the smell of cigarette smoke and chewing tobacco both overpowered by his extreme body odor. After some pleasantries, "Rusty the guide" said he had many years experience in guiding bear hunts. He gave us his word that he could get us really close to some grizzly bears. I asked him to define "really close", and he just grinned, exposing both teeth.
Jeff was busy on his scientific calculator, figuring the average running speed of a full-grown grizzly in comparison to the average speed of a city boy climbing a tree. Oddly enough his calculator actually had a setting for "really close," so it was easy to figure our chances of survival. Rusty was slightly amused by our lack of knowledge about, well, just about everything. He said to meet him at the 7-11 store at 4am the next morning. Once there, we were enjoying a moment of fresh mountain air when a certain odor, vaguely familiar to us, began to fill the air. Rusty was heading up the street in his old brown "Rusty Mobile". I was concerned that body odor of that magnitude would cause the bears to sense danger of a human nature and flee the area that we were hunting. Rusty assured us that his "Tactical Olfactory Bear Baiting System" or TOBBS as he called his own stench, would actually lure the bears to us by tricking them into thinking a dead animal or a new trash heap was near. Who was I to argue with years of experience and only one lost organ to bear witness to his success.
The drive up the mountain was short and without incident. We walked next to a stream until we came to a meadow area that looked like God had just finished working on it. At the edge of the trees, we could already see some bears pacing around like they were getting ready for the days maimings. It didn't take long for Rusty's TOBBS to work on them. I swear on my Winchester's life that the bears actually got into a football type huddle before they broke onto groups of two and three to start making a perimeter around us. "This here's the excitin' part", Rusty whispered. Exciting? Well, I guess so. Although hearing Jeff soil his pants, isn't exactly my idea of exciting.

One large sow and a single cub had broken formation and were heading directly at us. Not being experienced bear hunters, Jeff and I bailed out. We each found a tree to scurry up like frightened squirrels. This action left Rusty without a tree or gun of his own for defense. He didn't believe carrying a gun for defense while guiding bear hunts. Or, perhaps the state didn't believe he should own a gun period, is my guess. Anyhow, he bailed out also, but in a different way. He just fell to the ground like he was dead. The bears went right past him to Jeff's tree. Jeff's screaming and shrieking like a Four year old girl seemed to have an effect on the giant grizzly sow. I think she was amused. Then, she concentrated on me. She came to my tree and stood up. I had no idea how tall these animals were until I could see the bears' paws just inches from my boots. As my life flashed before my eyes, like it does every so often on my ill-planned adventures, I thought of my wife and kids and how they would get along without me. Then, I felt it. The bear had moved to the other side of the tree and stood on a log. She reached up far enough to get her paws on one my boots. I was too scared to move. Then, I felt the two paws gripping just above my ankle. The grip tightened, and the old grizzly sow started to pull. I braced for my impending demise. She pulled again and again, but lacked the leverage to dislodge me. I could not believe the bear continued to pull my leg for quite some time, just like I'm pulling yours.