Most hunters I know have a bucket list of hunting adventures that they dream about. Often, it’s not only the specific species that we fantasize about, but the allure of the rugged terrain and remote mountains where these amazing animals roam. These daydreams often include float planes, gravel bars, steep snow-capped mountains, and possibly stepping on the thick, spongy tundra where very few feet have ventured. 

As I’ve checked off many adventures over the years, from elk and antelope to mountain goat and bighorn sheep hunting, my bucket list started to shrink with only a few species remaining. On the very tip top of the list was a hunt I’ve been dreaming about for over a decade. The apex predator, king of the mountain…a grizzly bear. 

My husband John Bair had the same dream. A few years ago, we both attended the Wild Sheep Foundation Show in Reno, Nevada where we stopped by the Freelance  Outdoors booth to chat with Lance Kronberger. John had fantasized about an interior Alaska grizzly bear hunt since he was a kid and was dead set on making it happen. After looking at dates and details, John made a deposit on the hunt, setting this bucket list adventure in motion. I asked Lance if he could accommodate another hunter in camp with John and made the decision to join him. We were committed to making this dream of ours a reality. 

As a passionate conservationist and advocate for wildlife, I believe it’s vital to mention the necessity of hunting grizzly bears. Grizzly bear hunting is often used as a political tool for the anti-hunting activists. They often put out propaganda pieces to the masses with false information and emotional lies. Science doesn’t matter to them in their plight to stop all hunting. Hunting grizzlies is a crucial part of wildlife management that can have significant benefits for both the bears and the ecosystems they inhabit. Grizzly bears, like many wildlife species, have populations that can grow rapidly under the right conditions. When their numbers exceed the carrying capacity of their habitats, it can lead to overpopulation which in turn affects the numbers of moose, caribou, and other  wildlife. I was not only looking forward to learning more about grizzlies in this specific area we were hunting, but sharing our experience with viewers on my show “Skull Bound” Chronicles on CarbonTV.  

The years and months quickly flew by and the hunt seemed to suddenly appear on our calendar. A few weeks beforehand, we laid out all of our gear and Eberlestock packs in the spare bedroom. This style of hunt requires a well-thought out packing list, from clothing and sleeping bags to hunting and camera gear. Unfortunately, I was unable to bring my cameraman Heath along on the adventure, so the filming was left up to John and myself. When every ounce in your backpack matters, it’s quite a challenge to include all of your camera gear as well as everything you will need to live in a tent for ten days.

The adventure began at the Salt Lake City Airport where we caught a flight to Anchorage preceded by a flight into the village of Kotzebue, Alaska. Unfortunately the winds grounded us for a couple of days in ‘Kotz’ until the weather cleared and we could truly start the adventure. We boarded a six-seater at the Golden Eagle Outfitters air taxi  

hanger and headed out into the bush where we landed on a remote, sandy airstrip to switch planes. From there, a small super cub plane would take us individually to the final airstrip that perched on the mountain top, high above the valley floor. The plexiglass cab of the super cub gives you a feeling of soaring like an eagle over the tundra and timbered hillsides. Lance and his guide Brandon were at the airstrip waiting for not only John and I, but crucial supplies for camp. We said goodbye to the pilot and hiked 45 minutes along the skyline to camp. 

Camp consisted of three small pup tents and one larger, circular tent which served as the cook tent. It was minimal but it was perfect. Situated in a sheltered bowl at the very top of the mountains, it was strategically positioned there to be close to the glassing ridge but far enough away from most of the bear activity to avoid contaminating the area with the smells, sights, and sounds of camp. 

“These bears are not like other grizzlies in the lower 48. Most have never had any encounters with humans and, if they smell us, they’re gone! Being up high like this doesn’t affect the hunt,” Lance explained. “And it’s nice to be so close to camp. We have 24 hours of daylight. You can’t hunt all of the time but when the weather’s good, we hunt.”  

Since Alaska regulations state that you cannot hunt on the days you fly, we enjoyed the  rest of the evening unpacking our gear, getting organized, and hearing riveting stories in the cook tent. Lance has been on more grizzlies than any other outfitter I’ve heard of and I was like a kid on their first day of school, sitting upright in my camp chair and leaning on every word. After a great Q&A session, we all went to the glassing knob to spend a few hours peeling apart the terrain with our binoculars. 

While waiting out the thick fog the next morning, we gathered in the cook tent for some more hot chocolate and story time. “So you’re saying even a small amount of harvest on the grizzlies goes a long way to balance the ungulate populations,” John commented. 

“It takes them a while to understand how to kill moose calves,” Lance explained. “That’s a learned trait. The older boars definitely get it figured out much sooner than the sows do. So when you’re being a selective trophy hunter, you’re taking the higher percentage of the bears that are killing the moose calves. One boar can kill 30 moose calves in a year. So you don’t have to take out a lot of them to help out the moose population. Finding a big boar won’t be the problem; the challenge is finding one we can make a play on.”   

The fog finally cleared and the hunt was on. Glassing from the top of the ridge, the view was spectacular. The river below snaked through the valley floor with thick patches of timber and scrub brush covering the steep slopes. The rolling tundra went on as far as the eye could see. The sense of isolation was magical. We saw a lot of bears over the first few days, but one thing is for certain in this terrain: you’ll never catch up to a bear walking in the opposite direction. 

Day five was one of the most exciting days of my life. I spotted a pair of grizzlies stepping out of the timber into an opening over a mile away. “I’ve got bears, Lance,” I said with excitement. Studying the lay of the land, Brandon and Lance watched the bears in hopes of anticipating their next move.  

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Grab your packs,” Lance exclaimed while hustling to get all of his gear. Again we all bailed off the ridge; Brandon remained back to spot. The steep slopes of the mountain coupled with the sponge-like tundra make it hard to move as quickly as we would’ve liked. We came to a flat part of the terrain and Lance said, “Jana, get your camera ready and John, jack a round in. We’re going to get up to the bump and the bears should be somewhere within 400 yards.” Immediately after pushing the record button and John chambering a round, we took a couple steps. 

“How far?” John asked again just as Lance spotted the sow raise up on her hind legs. Lance whispered that it was 50 yards. The wind was perfectly in our face but after seeing us, the sow dropped down and took off in the opposite direction. The boar, not knowing what we were, decided to come check us out. John knelt down to shoot off his knee, but the boar was now in a slight dip of the terrain.  

“Stand up! Stand up! Stand up and shoot him!” Lance cried. The boar was a mere 36 yards away when John pulled the trigger, hitting the bear directly in the chest. Two more shots rang out from the Nosler and we watched the bear roll to a stop. The emotions boiled over as John reloaded his gun. Lance walked over to John and gave him a good ol’ way-to-go-buddy slap as John buried his face in his hands with tears of joy flowing. 50 years of wondering what that’s like had just happened. It’s hard to describe the emotions of the exact moment your bucket list hunt comes to fruition, but I can tell you it’s overwhelming. 

Brandon came rushing down the hill just minutes later. “I don’t think my heart was beating as fast as yours, but that was awesome!” he exclaimed. 

“I’m surprised I could hold it together!” John laughed. “I’m here to tell ya, when they’re coming at you, you’re shaking!” After the photos and interviews were filmed, the bear was broken down and put into packs for the hike back to camp. It was around 2:00 a.m. when we climbed into our sleeping bags, exhausted and exhilarated. 

The next couple of days were spent glassing, recapping the details of John’s hunt, and learning more about grizzly behaviors. We spotted plenty of big, lone bears but they were either heading in the opposite direction or disappeared into the thick patches of trees. 

Things got exciting again on the evening of day eight. I glanced up at Lance behind his spotting scope, but something was off. The scope was pointed way high in the direction of the opposite ridge across the river. “What are you looking at?” I asked with a twinge of fear in my voice.  

“We’re looking at your bear. It’s a huge boar with a sow,” Lance explained. To be honest, I wasn’t even glassing much on that side of the river all week because of something Lance told me on day one. I had asked him if he’d ever had to cross that river. He replied yes, but that it didn’t work out because he never found the bear and got stranded there overnight, which wasn’t fun. He could see my wide-eyed look as I brought my binos up to look across. 

“Hopefully he’ll cross the river and come over to our side by the morning. You two get some sleep, and we’re going to keep an eye on them overnight,” Lance decided. I went to sleep that night literally praying that we would not be going for a swim the next morning. I’m always cold and have terrible balance. Not a great combination for crossing a freezing, swiftly moving deep river in the middle of nowhere. 

John and I were woken up to Lance’s voice outside our tent early the next morning. “Wake up, folks! Gather up your things and meet me in ten minutes.” I unzipped the door of the cook tent and took a seat in my chair across from Lance. “We’re going across the river and I need you to promise me you’re not going to get hyperthermic,” he  said plainly. 

“Um, how do I promise you that?” I said with a nervous tone.  

“You have to trust me. You’re going to get cold. You won’t be able to feel your feet or legs and you’re going to want to stop once we cross the river. You have to keep moving. You’ll warm up once we start climbing,” he responded. 

There was a part of me that thought, ‘No way!’ But I trusted Lance and Brandon. If they thought this was a good idea and that we could do this, then I was in. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid of falling in or John going under with the camera gear. I was also well aware of the fact that we could get all the way over there and the bears could easily disappear. 

Once again, we dove off the mountain and headed towards the river. Brandon came halfway down again and stayed just above the treeline to give us signals with the garbage bags. After climbing through thick brush and uneven tundra, we came to the river’s edge. “Just hold onto my arm. Use your poles for balance and go with the flow of the water. You’re naturally going to want to go the shortest route, but just let the river flow you downstream,” Lance explained.  

We entered the water, our boots slipping among the river rocks below the dark water. The flow was stronger than I anticipated and Lance could sense my hesitation. He calmly encouraged me, step by step, as the water crept up past my belt. My legs were frozen halfway across, but by this time we were committed. I felt a huge sense of relief as we made it to the other side, then became worried for John and the camera equipment. Like a steady mule he flowed through the river, making it look easy. Lance was right; I wanted to stop. But we kept on moving up the steep bank along the river’s edge and onto the other side of the mountain. Walking in soaking wet gear is a bizarre feeling, but it’s better than standing still and getting cold. 

By the time we made it to the top of the mountain, we were basically dry except for our boots. We could see that Brandon had one of the white bags out, communicating that he could see one of the bears. After a few minutes, we saw what appeared to be the sow walk out into an opening to feed. We watched her for hours, but there was no boyfriend in tow. Suddenly Lance lowered his binos and said, “Let's move! Brandon is motioning that the bears are heading towards the river.” We gathered up our gear and headed off the mountain only to quickly turn around and head back up. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think Brandon is trying to tell us that the bears are in the next bowl over,” Lance explained. 

We scurried as fast as we could across the mountain top. It dawned on us that we were sitting above the wrong bowl! The boar and sow were in the next canyon over. Finally close enough to stop and glass, I heard Lance say, “There they are!” From 500 yards  away, we spotted what looked to be a giant boar tending a big, blond sow. We moved closer into position, a comfortable 300 yards away. I laid down in the prone and steadied the rifle on my pack. With the camera rolling I fired a shot, striking the boar perfectly behind the shoulder. I followed up with two more shots before the bear disappeared behind some scrub brush. We quickly ran down to the bowl to see where the boar ran, only to find him lying a mere 50 yards away on the tundra.  

Lance turned to me with a huge smile and held his arms out for a hug. We did it! All because Lance and Brandon had the belief that we could. It’s hard to explain my excitement as I walked up to that beast of a bear. “You did it! You frickin’ did it!” John exclaimed as we knelt down to put our hands on his giant, beautiful head. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at: a nine foot interior grizzly bear with a 25” skull. He had paws the size of dinner plates and scars fitting for an old, bruiser bear. My #1 bucket list item was checked off. That’s a feeling that’s hard to describe. When the reality of your hunt surpasses your wildest dreams, that’s an emotion I’m not sure there’s a word for. 

After watching the hunt go down through his spotter, Brandon crossed the river and met up with us to help pack the bruin back to camp. We made it back down to the river where we all rested and cooked up some Peak meals. We sat there exhausted and exhilarated, soaking up the spectrum of emotions this kind of adventure brings. We crossed the river again, this time on a different and even deeper path, but we all made it without going under.  

The climb back to camp was grueling and would not have been possible without Lance and Brandon. From the time we dropped off from camp to when we returned, 21 hours had passed. Lance instructed us we had two hours to sleep before we had to wake up and break down camp. The plane was coming early due to predicted fog later that day. Our heads hit the pillow for what seemed like only five minutes before we had to pack up and say goodbye to this amazing slice of heaven.  

I can’t help but think about what Lance said on day one of the hunt: “This place is amazing. You’ll try to explain the magnitude of this type of hunt, but even with photos and a video other people won’t completely understand.” I hope you’ll tune in to watch these two episodes on “Skull Bound Chronicles” on CarbonTV and I hope they’ll inspire you to plan your next bucket list hunt.