In October 2023, I met Jim Shockey during his stop at Cabela’s on his book tour. We talked writing, the outdoors and hunting. He invited me to come up to Pacific Rim Outfitters on Vancouver Island and hunt spring black bears. I couldn’t say no.
When I stepped off the small plane at the Port Hardy airport, the weather had turned gray and rainy. I rented a car and made my way to camp. Dave met me when I arrived, showed me to my cabin, and told me that I could drop my bags and change before my guide R.J and cameraman Ryan, would whisked me off to sight in the rifle that I would be using. It was Jim’s father’s Remington 700 300 Win Mag with a Leopold scope.

“It is not sighted in so don’t worry if you’re off “ he said to reassure me.
I found the target and squeezing the trigger, I watched the top right corner of the paper flutter.
“I think I’m high and to the right,” I replied, lowering the gun.
R.J paused, looking through his binoculars, “I think it’s a bullseye.” I just laughed. I don’t hit that well when I am aiming at animals.
The three of us walked to the target and in disbelief, there it was. One shot. IN the center of the bullseye. R.J smiled, “Looks good to me. Let’s go hunt.”

The next morning, we headed to the opposite side of the island to hunt. The dirt roads were narrow with nothing stopping us from plunging over the edge. A few times, I had to look inside the truck to get my mind off of the sharpness of the cliff next to me. Parts of the terrain reminded me of the novel “The Great Glorious Goddamn of It All” by Josh Ritter, which highlights the lives and deaths of the early lumberjacks attempting to cut massive trees from the sides of mountains.
Ryan, R.J and I saw a few bears in the morning and decided to glass from the top of one of the mountains. Fog and rain set in as we reached the peak so we ate cold turkey and cheese sandwiches and planned our afternoon hunt from the truck. We would hunt down by the water as the tide went out and then slowly make our way back to camp.

I am not sure what we were talking about, but suddenly there was a bear in the road. It turned and ran but not fast enough for us to think he might be in a full on run. R.J parked the truck and we decided to walk a bit. Paw prints along the side of the road showed that the bear had traveled around the corner and slipped into the thick brush. Ryan asked us to continue walking so he could take photos and videos of us. The sun was almost in our eyes as we crested the first hill. In the same way you can hear a deer snapping branches or crunching leaves as it’s walking, we could hear a bear.

He turned and ran up the next hill. R.J made loud huffing noises in an attempt to peak his interest and get him to stop. It worked. The bear turned broadside for a moment to look behind him and I squeezed the trigger, watching him jump sideways and spin into the thick landscape. 9 seconds. On the video, from the time I see him poke his head out to the time that I shot him was just nine seconds.
Ryan and I waited while R.J walked back to get the truck. We excitedly watched the video. Thirty minutes later, we were taking photos and celebrating the hunt. There is a mix of emotions that non-hunters don’t understand when you put your hands on an animal that you have hunted. I rubbed the bear’s head, studied the rip in his right ear and admired his claws as I quietly gave thanks for the life that I took. I could feel the warmth slowly leaving his body. He would feed a lot of people.

It was surreal to think that just 24 hours earlier, I had landed in camp. We saw 5 more bears and a cow elk as we drove back. We relived the stalk, the shot and gushed over the bear. It happened so fast that I appreciated Ryan’s work even more as I swiped through all of the photos and videos that he had taken.
This was my first hunt outside of Maine and outside of the U.S. I am so grateful to Ryan and R.J for the experience and to Jim for his invitation to come up and hunt!







Hi Erin,
Very cool!! Congrats on a great bear… And you got to meet Jim Shockey !!! Thanks for sharing your story.