The bears are everywhere. In Howard ‘Hoppy’ Quick’s world, they appear on the walls of his home, in his poetry, on his knuckles as tattoos—and most of all, in wood.
Over the past 46 years, Quick has carved more than 10,000 bears. He does it not for galleries, but because, to him, the black bear is sacred.
“I never saw what I do as art, my carving—it is my monastery,” he said. “When I am carving, I never think about what is happening now. I have always seen beyond that. The bear was my way. The bear was my mantra, and it [carving bears] became a spiritual thing where I was getting lost in them.”
Quick, who turned 62 this week, lives in Olivebridge in a converted school bus tucked beside a towering tepee that serves as his workshop. There, surrounded by sawdust and scraps, are bears in all stages of completion—along with mushrooms, wolves, and other forest creatures.
His main tool is a chainsaw, though he uses finer instruments to shape details like fur and eyes. A simple carving takes a day; a more complex sculpture—one was 10 feet tall—can take weeks.
Still, he always returns to bears.
A lifelong calling
Quick’s journey began in childhood. Born in Kingston and raised in Olive, he received a carving knife from his father at age 10 and began whittling.
“My mother always said she never had a bar of soap or potato left in the house I was carving,” he said.
Art didn’t run in the family. His father, Howard Sr., was a roofing contractor and his mother a homemaker, but a love for nature did. His father, nicknamed Hoppy after Hopalong Cassidy, a fictional cowboy hero created in 1904 by the author Clarence E. Mulford, passing the name to his son along with a passion for the outdoors.
“My father loved bears, and when I was eight, we saw a big one,” Quick said. “It ran into the hay and his back was out of the hay, and I was just in love from that moment on.”
School never felt like the right fit. “I had a hard time in high school because I never fit in,” he said.
But art made sense to him. As a teenager, he drew on birch bark and dried deer skin. He began carving with a chainsaw at 16 while working for a logger. One of his first creations was an owl.
“I was like, ‘Wow, look what I just did,’ and then I tried to make more things,” he said.
That same year, he had a vision of a bear’s face he wanted to carve. But for decades, he couldn’t replicate it.
“I saw the face of the bear I wanted to carve and then I just couldn’t do it,” he said. “And I did it over and over again until I finally found her.”
At 60, he finally did. It took 12 days to complete.
“I finally made a face when I was in my mind’s eye… that face. I just remember crying when I saw the face and I said, there it is. It just took me all this time to find you,” he said. “When people ask, how long does it take to make a bear? I say, it took me 40 years and about 10,000 bears.”
That carving was purchased by a family in Tupper Lake, a village in Frankin County, New York, where it remains.
Carving a living
Quick has long made his living through carving. He sold bears on Route 28 in Boiceville and traveled to fairs and festivals, often bringing his daughter, Emma, now 22.
“He’d always have bears inside and he’d always have carvings,” she said. Her favorite was a chicken the size of a horse. “He never liked when I called him an artist, he doesn’t think that he’s as talented as he is.”
She added, “When he carves, he gets into this zone. It’s like a mental thing, he’s so focused and he might not even know you’re there. I really believe that’s his therapy and that’s his church.”
Quick also takes commissions, everything from gazebos to animal sculptures. His clients have included the late Robert Trump, brother of President Donald Trump. His work is on display at Stratton Mountain Ski Resort in Stratton, Vermont.
More recently, he’s found an online following. His Facebook page has drawn more than 28,000 followers, and during the pandemic he posted daily videos of walks in nature. In 2020, he was featured in the documentary “Heart of the Bear.”
What’s next
Quick plans to travel and join carving community gatherings across the country and abroad.
In July, he’ll serve as a support carver at the U.S. Open Chainsaw Sculpture Championship in Watertown, New York. He’s connected with a global community of carvers—from Japan to Finland—and has started carving spoons and bowls to support himself on the road.
His goal is to leave behind a legacy—not only for his daughters, but for the world.
“I want to leave bears all over the world,” he said, “so when I’m gone, my only legacy I got really are my daughters, but also bears.”
Amy Wu is a reporter covering Woodstock and Saugerties. Send correspondence to amy@theoverlooknews.com.
