The Missouri black bear season kicked off Saturday, Oct. 18 and runs though the end of the month. All bear hunting in the state takes place south of the Missouri River in three designated zones. The season ends early if the quota of 40 bears is reached or the Director of the Missouri Department of Conservation decides to end the season. Hunters are only allowed to harvest lone black bears, not females with cubs or any other group of bears.
Over 6,000 people applied for 400 permits to be issued. I have applied every year the season has existed and luckily was drawn for the 2025 bear hunt. I applied for Zone 1, which covers the portion of Missouri west of a line running north from the Arkansas border on U.S. Highway 63 to U.S. Highway 60; west on U.S. Highway 60 to MO-360; west on MO-360 to Interstate 44; west on Interstate 44 to the Oklahoma border. Zone 1 has had more bears harvested over the years than the other two zones combined.
I have hunted bears in Canada but never dreamed I would ever draw a bear tag in Missouri. The odds of that happening were pretty slim. None-the-less, I drew a tag and began planning my bear hunt.
The first thing I did was contact Chance Hollingshad. He and his father, Joe Hollingshad, own and operate Devil’s Backbone Outfitters near Drury, Missouri. Joe has managed for deer and wild turkey for several decades. They often catch bears on their trail cameras.
I asked Chance if they would be willing to help me out during bear season. He politely told me I could come and stay for the entire two week season.
I purchased my bear tag. The cost was a minimal $25, one of the best bargains in the world of hunting. My excitement grew as the realization sank in that I would be bear hunting in my home state of Missouri. I made a plan.
My grandson, Ronnie Austin, came down the Friday before bear season began on Saturday. Foul weather held me off from leaving that same Friday. I didn’t leave until early Monday morning. Ronnie didn’t have to return to school until Wednesday. We begged his mom to allow him to skip school the other three days of the week, so he could go on my bear hunting trip. He couldn’t bear hunt, but he could bow hunt for deer.
Ronnie was jubilant about the fact that he would be allowed to accompany me on my trip. We packed all of our hunting gear and food in the truck the night before we were to leave.
Well before daylight, we hooked onto my camper trailer and headed south towards McDonald County.
We rolled into the Devil’s Backbone property about 10 a.m., where we promptly met Joe Hollingshad working cattle. We visited for an hour or so, then Joe led us through the farm, about a mile to a camping spot we could use, high on an oak and cedar covered ridge.
In short order, Ronnie and I had a comfortable camp set-up. Our next order of business was to head to a comfortable tower deer stand, tucked back in a small, grassy cove overlooking a long winter wheat field. The site certainly looked promising.
We settled into the blind and immediately began ranging distances to nearby trees for reference. Ronnie placed a bolt in his crossbow and settled back in a comfortable chair to await approaching deer.
At 5:45, a big doe fed into the field some 300 yards away. It was enough to get us excited. Soon two bucks hopped a fence 150 yards to the west. They fed for a long while, slowly making their way downhill. They disappeared over the hill, but within 20 minutes we spotted them coming our way just across a small ravine.
We had agreed with Hollingshad to only shoot does or cull bucks. The smaller of the two bucks qualified.
“Get ready,” I whispered. He shouldered his crossbow. I explained that the buck was 38-yards away and for him to use his 40-yard crosshair. I heard a thump. I wasn’t finished with my instructions, but he had fired. His bolt flew slightly over the buck’s back. He sighed with disappointment.
“I didn’t realize you were going to shoot,” I said. “I was going to tell you to hold low with the 40 yard crosshair.”
“I’ll beat myself up for a long while because of that miss,” Ronnie said.
Darkness fell and we headed back to camp in a UTV, which Hollingshad had loaned us.
Deer in the long field bounced to the cover of the hardwoods as we advanced toward camp.
Back at camp, we enjoyed a fine meal of steak and baked potatoes. Sleep came quickly as we dreamed of the next day.
Day two proved a bit uneventful, except for a daytime coon hunt with Rick Longnecker. He used coon calls to attempt to bring raccoons out of old buildings on the farm. Despite the fun, we were unsuccessful.
We sat in a ground blind on morning three. I used a grunt call in combination with a doe bleat. Within minutes a small buck walked into the food plot, looking for the source of the sound. It closed within 60 yards, too far for a shot. Fifteen minutes later another small buck approached 30 yards but stood behind a big tree before losing interest and wandering off.
A third buck responded to the calling, but, alas, was a nice 8-pointer, which we weren’t allowed.
Ronnie loved the camping and bowhunting.
Bear hunting? The wind was fierce the entire trip, making for poor bear hunting. I spent most of my time guiding Ronnie for deer.
