buck 110 vs. kodiak bear

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Aug 18, 2005
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read the whole story here.

http://www.outdoorlife.com/outdoor/adventure/article/0,19912,1117013-1,00.html

The Battle Begins
Raspberry has an open grassy top, but at lower elevations moss hangs from big timber in the world?s northernmost rain forest. That year, snows had driven the deer down to the forest. Gene did watch a beautiful buck for 20 minutes, but it spooked before his partner could get a shot. About 2 o?clock, he saw another buck and decided to take it while there was still enough daylight to get it back to Afognak. Steve didn?t show up, so he began skinning it out alone. All the meat was off the carcass and laid out on plastic, and the heart and liver were in his hands when he heard the bloodcurdling roar. His only chance of survival depended on what he could do quickly with the 3¾-inch blade on his Model 110 Buck folding knife. And that chance was rapidly diminishing. Foam does bubble forth profusely from the mouths of excited bears, and this hungry sow was so excited that Gene now saw more foam than head. He could only aim his blade at the center and hope.

The knife slid alongside her head, and the bear bit Gene?s right arm above the elbow, taking out a big chunk of flesh. He could feel her trying to tear off the arm completely. He quickly reached over her head with his left hand to jab a finger in her eye, but came to an ear first and rammed his finger in as hard and far as it would go, then twisted. This experience proved to be so new and so intolerable that she relaxed her grip on his arm and tried to pull away, but Gene?s left arm was over her neck. Thinking he might put her on the ground in a more helpless position, he attempted to bulldog her as he had young bulls during his youth on the farm in Minnesota. Big mistake. She flipped her neck and threw him 8 feet.

Having watched bears doing lots of berry picking and digging, Gene knew she?d swing at him with her right paw. Like humans, the majority of bears are right-handed. This one stood up on her hind legs, arms outstretched in scarecrow fashion, and began circling, picking her moment to end this confrontation. A grizzly can decapitate a cow with one swipe; a Kodiak brown is even bigger, and Gene knew his head would come off a lot easier than a cow?s. He was also certain that she was standing on her hind legs to place that right paw at the best level to accomplish this. He tried to move closer to his rifle while focusing his eyes on nothing but that right paw. He saw it coming the instant it started. And at that same instant, he jerked his head back the way a boxer dodges a right hook. She missed, but came close enough that one claw split his ear and almost tore off the earlobe.

Since that failed, she dropped to all fours, hit his legs and knocked him on his back. She?d be on top of him next, bouncing or biting to crush his ribs or skull, so he jerked both heavily booted feet together and kicked upward with all his strength as she came flying in. The collision knocked her off to the side, and Gene leaped to his feet.

She began circling him again, and like a prizefighter up against a taller man with a longer reach, Gene knew that he had to get inside that right paw to survive. She was beating him to death. She came at him fast on all fours, and this time Gene was stepping off with his left foot, right foot still on the ground, as the paw started to swing. The paw missed and swung around his back, so she bit a large chunk out of his right leg above the knee instead. The pain was severe, but now Gene was inside the right front paw and against the bear?s shoulder with his left arm over her neck. His right arm had no feeling, and flesh from above the elbow hung down to his fingers. He reached over the neck and stabbed four times as hard as he could. Then, changing tactics, he moved closer to the jaw to slice the neck so he could push his knife and fist into the cut to stab deeper.

Standing Tall
The sow tried to stop Gene by raising him off the ground with her right paw. He hung on and kept cutting the hole deeper, but he couldn?t hold her when she dropped him to push away with both front feet. Nevertheless, before her head pulled out from under his left arm, he managed one more hard stab into the deep slash near her jaw. Blood squirted all over them both. Immediately, this Kodiak brown wanted a breather between rounds and circled out beyond the little arena of beaten-down snow.

Noticing that some of the fight was going out of her, Gene yelled, ?Bear, the Lord?s on my side, so come on!?

She did. And as she ran, Gene could see blood still gushing from the cut nearest the jaw. He also noticed that her head was cocked oddly sideways, suggesting that the last stab had probably gone deep enough to injure a vertebra. Terribly battered with loose skin and flesh hanging from his arm, claw gashes in his shoulders, and painfully dragging his right leg, 6-foot 3-inch Gene tried to stand tall and move toward her looking as menacing as possible. He would not allow her the added confidence of thinking the fight had gone out of him.

Whatever she thought, it did not stop her from charging?though not with the speed demonstrated earlier. All Gene had left now was a little prayer and the advice of a dog-musher friend who said a blow to the nose from a light club he carried would stop nearly any animal. Gene drew back his left fist, and as the bear leaped at him, he threw the hardest punch of his life. He missed the nose, but struck her cocked head just under the eye. The impact of the punch combined with the momentum of the 750-pound brown was so powerful that his arm and hand went white and he had no feeling left in the knuckles. The sow?s head twitched, and she bared two front teeth that were still covered with Gene?s ?meat,? as he tells it, before suddenly dropping with her paws under her body. Her cocked head straightened with the blow, and her nose pulled downward during her fall, ramming it into the moss. She lay motionless.

Crawling for Help
Gene had seen so many animals go down that he knew it?s a brain or spine shot when one drops with its feet under it. Hit other organs, it will go down with its feet or legs out from under its body. He believed this one was dead from damage he had inflicted to the spine with his knife and fist. But he wasn?t taking any chances; he stepped back to get his rifle. Before he could shoot, however, he had to first free his hand of the knife?but found he couldn?t relax his grip. Eventually, he was able to pull his fingers from the knife with his teeth, but then the loose skin and flesh from his arm fell over the scope of his rifle. Finally, he managed to raise the rifle high enough to get the flesh off to the side, and then lower it to shoot the bear twice in the chest.
 
poor animal :)
Btw. I wonder why he just didn't fly away and let the bear to feed on the carcass?
 
huugh said:
poor animal :)
Btw. I wonder why he just didn't fly away and let the bear to feed on the carcass?
That was my choice. One shot in the air did not impress the bear at all. Choosing discretion as the better part of valor, I ran across a river leaving the meat for the bear. Funny thing is... I was dry when I reached the tree on the other side, but soaked to the bone when I recrossed to pack my camp when the bear left. I wonder why the guy, having a rifle, chose to feed the bear his arm instead of using it. Sounds like a bear tale to me.

Codger
 
Gene Moe snapped his head around at the ferociously loud and deep bawling roar of a close and angry bear. At first glimpse, he knew he was in for the fight of his life. This was no trotting charge of a bluffing bear. Both front paws reached forward together in each leap of a galloping bear going in for the kill. Gene made one instinctive step toward his rifle, just 5 feet away, and then recognized the futility of dropping an inferior weapon to grab a superior one he’d never have time to shoot. The knife he had been using to skin a Sitka blacktail deer was still in his hand, so he thrust it forward to meet the raging bear’s wide-open mouth, hoping to shove it down her throat. He was keenly aware that he could lose a hand, or more, but no better defense presented itself.


that was part of the beginning of the article.
 
I guess I just have a hard time believing that a 69 year old man killed an enraged kodiak bear with a 3 1/2" pocketknife.
 
Yeah... the last time I punch a Kodiak and broke it's neck it had already been worked over pretty well by my posse so it didn't really count...

This dude has the braggin' rights, that's for sure. Mac
 
Carry a khukuri. It'd be better to die with one of those in your hands than a little buck knife. IMHO. YMMV. I'm jaded because I recently bought a Buck pocketknife I've wanted since I was a boy. I was very unhappy with the quality on all counts. The blade deformed on copper wire. Yuk.
 
well wheather a bear tale or not it was still an intertaining story. Thanks for the good read:thumbup:
 
Codger_64 said:
I guess I just have a hard time believing that a 69 year old man killed an enraged kodiak bear with a 3 1/2" pocketknife.
Apparently Gene Moe isn't what one should assume is a "typical" 69-year-old:
Back in the hospital, Gene overheard two nurses discussing how he was too old to heal properly. The next day, however, the doctor was asking what medic put his arm back together so expertly. “Tom Frohlick,” Gene answered, “a cement finisher who works with us.” (Annually, to make his employees more aware, careful and competent in an emergency, Gene has them take an 8-hour class in first aid. Gene himself certainly benefited from his employees’ training.) Two other reasons he could outfight a bear? He never smoked and he worked hard all his life. The doctor would later say that Gene has the muscle tone of a 33-year-old man.
As someone that's been too close to death before, I can tell you that we shouldn't underestimate how strong and powerful one's will to live can be. Until you decide that you're ready to die, you'll do everything that you can to try to keep living.

GeoThorn
 
Knives Illustrated ran that story a few years ago. Guy got a tour of the Buck factory by the head guy, as well as a new 110. He had his old 110 framed, still had blood and hair on it. Helluva fight.
 
There's a parallel thread in the Buck Knives Forum:

Joe Houser said:
After that incident, and I'm talking about the bear and Mr. Moe not the sqirrels, :rolleyes: he came to Buck Knives and visited. (Mr. Moe, not the bear)
We got to hear the story first hand. Funny thing is, he showed us all of the scars...and I mean ALL of them. Remember the bear had bit off like half of his fanny?...:rolleyes:
yup, we saw all the scars. Believe me, if I thought I could have snuck out of that office I would have!
He really was a cool old guy. It was a miracle that he made it out alive.
__________________
Joe Houser
Director of Consumer relations Buck Knives Inc.
Buck Collectors club Administrator and member #123
GeoThorn
 
Wow. Hope I'm half that tough when I hit that age.

And all the backpacking greenies tell me I don't need a big knife to go camping!
 
I really don't get the poor bear and poor animal comments. Imagine if it were your dad or uncle. No he did what he needed to do. I have a cousin that drives the haul road to Perdue Bay. He carries a .50 Smith on the hip for bears and especially hungry polar bears. If they leave me alone I will leave them alone. That being said a Cherokee Indian turned me on to bear Jerky. It's not bad at all.
 
I would love to fly to Anchorage and buy Gene lunch and listen to his life story! Apparently he's 93 and still kicking. If I'm correct, his knife is on display at the Buck factory, and the skin of the bear that tried to kill him hangs on his wall.
 

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