It's that time of year when the caribou are close by and everyone is heading about 90 miles North to go hunting. So we decided to take a mini trapping break and get some caribou.
Our original plan was to go on Tuesday, but we had 8 marten to take care of. So we skinned our critters and got our gear together Tuesday, planning on final prep 9 am Wednesday morning. The forecast was good for Wednesday, with a winter weather advisory starting Thursday early morning. We had our camping gear so we could hunker down wherever we needed to, if we needed to.
Gregg and his wife, Kathy, rolled into town around 9:20 am. I started packing the camping sled while they went and got gas. We were loaded and rolled out around 10:30. Gregg in the lead, Kathy in the middle, and me in my usual caboose spot. It was a beautiful day with bright skies and the sun was at our back. Ideal driving conditions. They'd sighted in their guns the day before. The first place we stopped, I told them I need to sight mine in. Three shots in a tight cluster, right where they were supposed to be.
The trail was great. The most recent snow had made it the best I'd seen in years. Rivers and creeks had different crossings than the normal ones because of all the overflow, but they weren't bad. We paused for a moment at Egavik. It always makes me smile, although as the years pass it's become a sadder smile. The building is wearing down and is eroded out on the beach side. It's become a shell of a building. Hard to believe my family lived there thirty years ago.
Our next stop was the shelter cabin at foothills. It's got the last outhouse on the trail. The trail through the trees in the foothills is always bumpy jerky up and down. As we were coming down the hill towards Shaktoolik, I spotted some dark spots upon top of a mountain that weren't normally there. They were too big and dark to be caribou. I stopped and pulled my rifle off and looked through the scope. Musk ox! A decent sized herd of them. I caught up to Gregg, who had stopped when he didn't see me behind him and pointed them out.
The trail to Shaktoolik was flat and we made great time. The flats had some ice chunks and ridges scattered throughout. We stopped at the bright orange cabin at Iguanaq (sp?) and had burgers that I'd made from 2015 caribou. Norton Bay was flat and smooth and we picked our pace up to 40-45. I couldn't believe how great that trail was. We headed towards shore when we were parallel with the Ungalik River. We found a way up the bank and worked our way over the tundra, crossing creeks and looking for sign. A buddy had said they were spread out from the Ungalik up to around the cell phone tower.
We came across a few small herds but they were super skittish and started running when we were over a mile away. Gregg was the first to connect with one. He shot it right in the hiney and then again in the head to kill him. I'd never hunted out on the flats, I'd only hunted in the trees, where they weren't quite so skittish. I'm rather clumsy and I did not get the hang of speeding up to caribou, quickly braking, and shooting. I pulled up to help Gregg slaughter his, and had one side skinned before he had a quarter on his side skinned. He laughed and cussed at me for being so fast. In no time it was bagged up in the sled and we were on our way again.
We found a decent sized herd up on a little hill that was above a little pond at the end of a creek. We slowly made our way along in the creek and then spread out on the pond. We took off at the same time and popped up on top of the hill. I managed to connect with a small bull. I got his front shoulder and then a head shot to kill him.
I slaughtered him, we packed him up, and headed towards the Iglutalik River. The herds on the flats were so skittish, we decided to go look up in the hills next to the river. The past three hunts we'd had good luck finding them, sneaking through the trees, and connecting. In years past there would be sign of them crossing back and forth along the river, but this year there was only one old spot where they'd crossed and we didn't see any on the hills from the river. We had to stop when we ran into a pair of moose ahead of us on the river, discussed, and decided to head back towards the flats. There was no sign and it was about 10 degrees colder up on the river. It was started to get late and we wanted to set up camp. There was a place with a tent frame that we saw when we dropped down onto the river. We decided to head back there and put our tent on the frame.
It was a perfect spot to camp! There was a little grove of trees as a wind block, if the aforementioned winter weather advisory kicked in. The tent frame was flat we had room around the tent to walk. A bright moon rose up as we were spreading the meat into the snow to freeze and hauling our gear into the tent. A fox popped up from the river and scooted off when he saw us, pausing once to look back at the meat we were now covering with a tarp. We climbed in the tent, Gregger got his little gas stove thing going, and I got mugs, cider, and whiskey ready. We made drinks and warmed our bellies. Then heated up pepper jack caribou burgers all wrapped up in their parchment paper and tin foil. The middle ended up being a little cold because of our eagerness, but they were delicious. We made another round of cocktails, Kathy unrolled her sleeping gear and stretched out while Gregg and I told stories. Gregg and I had mugs of oatmeal and then followed suit, crawling into sleeping bags. I got a really light, small down blanket for Christmas and used it to cover my head to keep it warm and it worked like a charm. I couldn't even tell I was in a tent.
I woke up to Gregg and Kathy asking each other if they were awake. The wind had really picked up in the middle of the night and sounded like it was still howling pretty good. We peeked out and it surprisingly didn't look as bad as it sounded. We had a leisurely morning of coffee and of course a second cup of coffee. Then caribou sausage and egg breakfast sandwiches on english muffins. I had more oatmeal and Gregg had a brownie. The wind died down and it ended up being a beautiful morning. We broke camp, packed up, and headed south back towards Ungalik. We ran into a herd on the second hill. We were able to work our way up a creek behind some trees and then zip up the hill. They must have still been waking up because I got one. It was in the hind quarter and needed a head shot to put it down. While Gregg and I slaughtered, I saw a herd across the Iglutalik, heading North. The wind kicked up again and started covering the meat in the snow just as we were finishing. The wind was the deciding factor in heading back South towards home instead of going further North trying to find the herd we'd just seen.
We weren't sure if the caribou were moving North or still hanging out. Turns out we didn't need to worry. We spotted a herd off in the distance as we worked our way south. They were kinda hanging out on top of a hill with a smoothish valley leading up towards them. We spread out in three directions. Gregg connected with two and I shot a small cow in the head. I was aiming for the bull running in front of her. I drug mine over to Gregg's two after I realized the bungee cords holding my duffle had snapped. The wind had stopped again, so Gregg started butchering right where he was at while I back tracked a few miles to my duffle. I scooted past part of the herd we'd just chased, but was more worried about my duffle than shooting. I found it, tied it on my machine, and then headed back to Gregg. I ran into the same herd and zipped right into em, they split in front of me and I shot three more bulls. Two through the ribs and one in a hind and then a kill shot to the head. I was ecstatic. Goal reached.
I drove back to them with the biggest smile on my face. Everyone was happy. I slaughtered one, Gregg and Kathy finished the first one they'd started on and then moved to the second. I told them where the other three were and went to get started on them, while they finished up. I was skinning the second when they pulled up and cut my pointer finger a little when I looked up to see em. I shook my head, frustrated and laughing at myself. They worked on the third, while I finished up the one I was working on. Nine caribou. More than enough to be able to share. I grew up with a single mama and we relied on the generosity of our neighbors and friends for meat, so I always try to get enough to be able to give to friends and people who don't have hunters in their families.
I was worn out after the last one. We gassed up, I had a quick snack because I'm awful when I'm hungry, we toasted the bou with Gregg's flask, and decided to head towards the bay. We ran into and saw herds on the way to the coast. A little fox ran through a creek in front of us before we crossed it. The bay was a jumbled up mess of ice and looked a little green. So we worked our way down the coast till we found a spot that looked okay. The caboose then became the sacrificial lamb.
I wasn't pulling a sled, we'd moved it to Kathy's rig during hunting, so it made sense for me to check for overflow. I picked my way over ridges and cruised out towards good looking ice. Everything was froze over and fine. I lead out heading out in the bay, but keeping Iguanaq in my sights. After the last little ridge (ivuu) I pulled up and moved back to being the caboose. We hit the trail shortly after and it was smooth sailing all the way to Iguanik. We stopped for lunch, cold breakfast sandwiches for the win.
The ride to Shaktoolik was great. I was the sacrificial lamb, once more, crossing the river. And then the wind hit and beat us from Shaktoolik to foothills. They never seemed to get any closer. Gregg's machine was being pushed sideways by the 40 mph gusts. Kathy's sled was being pushed. And I was super thankful for the pink and purple studs in my machine. We stopped in a valley out of the wind to catch our breath. We stopped at the foothills cabin. The wind was mellower in the hills, picked up again when we hit Egavik and then it started snowing halfway between Egavik and Blueberry. Because the wind wasn't enough.
Gregg ran out of gas right at the barge landing. We had one more 5 gallon jug that he was able to dump in. We rolled up to the shop right around 9:30 pm. We unhooked the sleds and drug them into the shop and called it a night.
Success.
Currently we are not able to harvest musk ox in our hunting unit. I know we were able to in the past, before they moved out of the area. My brother got a tag up in his hunting unit last year. He's up further north and west of me and has a boss with an airplane.