By: Earl Manning and Terry Henley

Our hunt had originally been scheduled three seasons ago (1999). My hunting companion, Terry Henley, and I were to hunt with outfitter Clark Whitney in Alaska, but due to an automobile accent that almost took my daughter's life just days before we were to leave, I had to cancel. Terry also canceled and we both agreed we would take the trip the following year. This time Mark Drummond of Birmingham was to join us. Three days before this trip, my son in law was killed in a plane crash, and again I had to cancel. At my insistence Terry and Mark went on as planned. When they returned both Terry and Mark had gotten what they went for, a grizzly, a moose and a caribou. Terry could sense I was envious of him and Mark and told me, "not to feel bad, that he would make the trip with me this year so I could get my trophies and not have to hunt alone". Terry said, "he would not go to hunt but would be my guide and photographer". Again we booked our hunt with Clark Whitney.
This time nothing interfered with our plans. We flew from Anchorage by a chartered bush plane and arrived at our base camp about two hundred and fifty miles from Anchorage on September 10th as scheduled. Had we been one day later we would not have been able to fly into camp because all planes, including the flying service that transports hunters into the wilderness of Alaska were grounded due to the World Trade Center attack. This ban on flying left hunters previously flown to their camps stranded in the wilderness without knowledge of what had happened in New York and why the plane that was to pick them up had not arrived to get them.
The day after we arrived at our base camp we were moved to a remote camp site where some moose activity had been seen. On the third day at this site we decided to walk the ledge of a mountain around to where we could observe a river bottom below. It was here that we spotted a moose lying in some alders surrounded by spruce trees at about 70 yards. The moose must have sensed our presence. It stood up, facing us as we watched from above. The shot had to be quick. He wasn't going to stand there forever. One step and it could disappear into the thickness of the trees and brush. I very quickly put the scope mounted on a 416 Rigby purchased from Marks Outdoors for this hunt (and an African Safari planned for next year) on the most vital spot I could see on the moose and fired. All the kidding I had taken from those back at the base camp for bringing such a large gun was worth it as I saw the moose literally lifted off the ground by the impact of the 500 grain cartridge. He was dead on the spot. It was a beautiful trophy. A sixty inch rack with massive brow tines. After a few "high fives" with Terry and some picture taking the real fun began, skinning and then packing him out one and a half miles back to the camp site. From then on my 416 Rigby was referred to by everyone as "Ole Thunder".
We still needed a grizzly to complete our trip, so we went back to base camp to plan our strategy with our outfitter Whitney. He told us of a moose kill made by a hunter prior to our arrival and suspected by now a bear should have moved in to feed on it. We decided to move to that remote camp site and do some spotting. This particular camp was located next to a lake on a mountain top. The moose kill had been made about a half mile from there. We could see the remains of the moose through binoculars from a mountain top near our new camp site. For days we sat up there in the wind spotting for a bear to come feed on the kill. Finally we spotted one, but could not go down to it because the wind was blowing from our direction directly toward the kill. To get near enough for a clean shot was too risky. Our scent would have surely alerted the bear of our presence and it would have left the area. Terry and I both agreed it best to be patient than rush things. So we just sat and watched, waiting for the wind to change.
On the two following days the wind was not quite as big a factor, and on two occasions when we spotted the bear feeding on the kill we quickly headed down to a pre determined spot only to find the the bear gone, The hike down required about twenty minutes. Tomorrow, we agreed, the wind permitting, we will go down and set up about a hundred and fifty yards on a ledge overlooking the kill. This way, if and when we see him, we can hopefully get a shot before it disappears. "Because of the brush we knew I would only get one shot. We had seen the bear about 8 PM on each of the two previous days. On this day the wind direction was in our favor and we were at our predetermined spot and set up to shoot by 6:00 PM. Shortly after we got there, a wolf came walking through an open area about fifty yards away between us and the moose kill. When the wolf did not pick up our scent we knew the wind was in our favor. All we needed now was for the bear to show.
Soon I heard Terry whisper, "he's coming". I was looking but could not see anything. I whispered back, "where is he"? Terry whispered, "I can't see him now, but I got a glimpse of his back above the alders about fifty yards to the right of the kill heading toward it. Get ready!" I slowly raised my 416 Rigby aiming to the spot where the moose remains lay...Just as I did the grizzly stepped out of the thickness of the alders. He literally stepped out of the brush into the cross hair of my scope and turned facing me. I knew I would only get one shot. It had to count. Otherwise at the sound of a missed shot it would be off and running out of sight. As steady and deliberate as I could I lowered the cross hairs of my scope just to the left of the bear's right shoulder and fired, and as I did I saw the grizzly knocked backwards. The shot rolled him about one and a half times. I just knew I had made the kill, but it very quickly rolled to its all fours and ran into the brush. No high fives this time. I was sick. We now had to deal with a wounded grizzly.
After waiting about twenty minutes we both made sure we had a shell in our guns and headed down to where I had shot. (Terry had given up his camera and binoculars for a gun at this point.) We spotted blood. Lots of blood, but no bear. We walked into the alders a few steps and spotted blood on some leaves. Side by side following the trail of blood we took each step very slowly with our guns positioned ready for what might happen. After about forty to fifty yards, "Thar he was" lying face down. Very cautiously we approached the bear and punched it in the rear with the rifle barrel to make sure it was not playing possum. HE WAS DEAD. Time for another high five and some picture taking. "Ole Thunder strikes again", Terry said. As we were doing our replay and celebration of this kill, Terry said, "only two shots have ever been fired from Ole Thunder and you've got yourself a bear and a moose. That ain't bad, buddy".
As we finished taking pictures we realized we would have to come back the next morning to pack out our trophy. The evening was quickly turning to darkness. before heading back to camp, we skinned our bear and piled brush over his hide for protection from varmints should they come by. Thanks to a little flashlight I had purchased from Marks Outdoors that I always wore on my belt, we had some light to see how to skin our kill and for use in hiking back to camp in the darkness. Without that little light it would have been impossible.
We were 10:30 getting back to camp that night and up at sunrise the next morning to go back to pack my trophy out. I plan to have a life size mount made with it holding a big Alaskan fox I killed near the camp site, (an idea I got from my "photographer"). I could tell Terry was excited and happy that I got the two trophies that had eluded me for the previous two years. I never would have made the trip and got them had he not agreed to go along with me.
Next day, a bush plane picked Henley and me up at base camp, and we flew back to Anchorage. We checked into a hotel just in time to see the last half of the Alabama vs. Arkansas game and then all of the Auburn vs. Syracuse game. Up till then it had been a good trip for Terry.