Oh yeah I do. I was up our cabin for black bear season. After raining all night I headed up the mountain the first day of the season. I picked a spot just below the top of the ridge so I could watch most of the mountain side below me. About an hour after daylight I could hear something behind me up on the top. I crept up in a slow still hunt and jumped a very large blackie only about 40 yds away. Now this top was fairly thick brush as it was clear cut about 5-10 years prior. He was running right to left. Because of the rain the night before he was still wet. I shouldered my Rem 760 and when the .308 barked I saw the water spray too far back. I cycled the action and swung further in front but he changed direction and was running straight toward me. (I dont' believe it was a charge but more that he didn't know where the shot came from.) Looking through the scope his head looked massive. Those of you that have seen a bear run know that their body sort of rocks as the run. When his head came up I put a round through his chest, cycled the pump and did it again. This shot about 15 yds. He finally turned to the right. Swinging on him as if I was hunting rabbits with a shotgun now at this range, my fourth shot smacked a tree and I saw bark and wood flying in the scope. My last shot hit him squarely behind the left front shoulder as he disappeared into the laurel. As I put another magazine into the 760 I could see the laurel tops shaking as he ran through it. I sat on a stump to gather up all my wits from this episode that probably lasted less than 10 seconds. After about 20 mins I heard 2 shots about 150 yds away. Hoping it wasn't "my" bear I started examining the area. There was hair and chunks of meat and blood. I followed the blood train through the laurel - sometimes on my hands and knees until I lost it. I hung my orange scarf on a tree limb at the last spot and went down the camp for assistance but no one was around. I got back up, relocated the blood trail, retrieved my scarf and tracked it to a gut pile.
The following year I met another hunter up in the same spot and was telling him this and he said that he was the one that killed that bear. He said that the one I shot was in pretty bad shape stumbling around. He was hoping that he would hear or see me coming as there was another bear sitting on his haunches watching "my" bear. When the other bear walked away he decided that he should just dispatch the wounded one. He waited almost an hour with 3 of his friends but no one showed. (don't know why he didn't call out). So him and his friends dressed and dragged the bear out. He told me it weighed in at 386 lb dressed wt. I asked why he fired 2 shots. With a bit of embarrassment, he said that as he fired the first shot the bear fell and he missed it then took the second shot to finish him. To this day I regret not putting a .308 slug into that big bruin's melon size head.