Another AK Hunting Story
#7660760
08/29/22 04:56 PM
08/29/22 04:56 PM
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Joined: Feb 2011
Posts: 811 Interior Alaska
30/06
OP
trapper
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OP
trapper
Joined: Feb 2011
Posts: 811
Interior Alaska
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Chapter 2 to last fall's post: events leading up to, and including, another caribou hunt with dear daughter.
Daughter and I again were dropped off in NE Brooks Range by same pilot in same DeHavilland 🦫. During the year prior, she had helped me cut and pack out 2 Fortymile bulls in January, practiced diligently with her .308, earned all A's (no tears over Trigonometry this time), catch and freeze a pile of Red Salmon, and generally make herself as helpful and agreeable as possible (for a teenager!). In short, she spoiled me rotten and I had no choice, no viable option to skip out. Off we flew, under cloudless skies to the same little tundra bench on east side of a north flowing Arctic river. Snow powdered the peaks down to about 3500', our camping spot at 2000' elevation. Gorgeous.
We quickly unloaded our gear, about 15 lbs less than last year, (packed smarter). Pilot was buttoning up hatches when daughter said "Dad, there's a wolf on the river". Two sets of binoculars quickly established the wolf was in fact a small bear running up the braided river bed. "Oh great" I thought. I liked this place because last year we hadn't seen a single bear last year. Pilot started fired up that big radial engine (sexiest sounding engine this side of a Rolls Royce Merlin) and started rolling. Then I heard "Dad there's 4 bulls!" Sure enough, from upstream came trotting 4 bull caribou. The bear disappeared into willows. It was a small bear. We were off to an encouraging start.
We couldn't hunt the same day we'd flown, so we took our time to glass while setting up camp. This year we brought a portable electric fence to surround our camp. I was counting on sleeping more soundly with those 2 little wires reinforcing the 3 layers of nylon protecting me each night. About supper time, we watched a larger, chocolate colored bear run zig-zag down the mountain directly across the valley from our camp, run through willows at the bottom, plunge into the river and swim it, headed our way. Then it disappeared into the same willows that the earlier bear had. To accurately describe my feelings at that point requires verbiage not permitted on Trapperman. Think "Good Grief +P+ "!
Next morning dawned sunny, and warm enough for mosquitoes. We glassed, hiked, and didn't see a single caribou. Daughter dropped her rifle on the rocks and was concerned about its zero, so we hiked up a steep little side canyon and took a prone shot. She busted the white rock target in half. Zero checked.
The next several days we spent largely in the tent, either socked in with fog or soaked with sideways rain. At least it didn't snow. We each brought a book, and had a copy of Alaska's hunting regs to read. So let's just fast forward a few.
We finally caught a break, and found a few scattered bulls on distant mountains, but nothing close enough to hunt. The definition of close enough to hunt was changing, and had lengthened during our rainy tent-bound days, but not enough yet. We had a skinny orphaned calf spot us from afar and run over to us, looking for a new mom. Original mom was probably a wolf turd somewhere.
Pick up day arrived, and we were each consoling ourselves a bit. After all, we'd had a fantastic run on both fish and caribou the last year, and that streak couldn't last forever. 2 hours before pickup we started seeing a thin but steady trickle of bulls down a distant mountain and onto the river bed about 1 1/2 miles downstream of us. 2 stopped to feed in a little mountainside divot. A series of quick satellite texts negotiated a 24 slip in pick up time. Off she went, I followed.
Let me interject here, I'm kind of an old Dad. She was born shortly after my 42nd birthday. People have thought I was her grandpa, and that's okay. But on this day I wished I was a young dad. She's an athlete, and fit, and I'm neither. It seems like just last week she was saying " wait for meeee....." Now, I'm the one saying it. It happened fast!
We crossed the river in hip boots, and she got soaked. Her little boot leak was actually a big gash, so on the far side she pulled them off and put on some Crocs. You know, those foam rubber sandals. Through the brush (lots of bear tracks -yay!), down the valley, then up a talus gulley out of sight of the 2 'bou. We hoped. We hadn't seen them for some time, were pretty sure they hadn't moved off, so maybe they were feeding or laid down. I had to stop several times on that climb, catch my breath. My FitBit watch had my pulse up to 144. She scrambled up and looked back annoyed when I rested. Maybe the Crocs were her secret. No way would I have gone after these guys by myself, but I am weak, can't say "no" sometimes.
Abou 600 feet up we cut across the mountain, ooching toward and over a slight rise that separated us from the 'bou spot. I moved a little lower to give her room, and me a little room if I had to back her up with a shot. She saw something, and attempted to ask me questions via sign language, which I don't know, so I pointed at her and mouthed "You". Your call, your decision, you do it, you. Well she did. She shot. I saw the darker, smaller bull stand up, and I thought she missed it. It didn't seem hit, so I withheld my fire.
"Dad I could really swear right now!" she said out loud. I still thought she missed, and the small bull trotted off a ways. Then she shot again so I ran over the rise. The bigger bull was there giving a last kick. 189 yds, 1st shot through 5th rib, big vessels above heart, right upper lung lobe and out. 2nd shot 2inches to right and lower, through nothing but lung. She'd wiggled over that rise and caught them both laying down chewing cud. Her gesticulating was whether she should shoot something laying down. Yup, you can. "I wasn't sure it was a bull, couldn't see...". Yup, with that headgear it's a bull, and that second shot was unnecessary, but nice shooting!
Now the work. She tugged, pulled, bagged, while I cut. We boned out neck, torso, pelvis, ribs trying for a lighter load, but we were running out of day. Sunset was about 1100 p.m. and we started packing at 700 p.m. "Dad I'll take the bigger load" insisted Croc-girl. Okay, I'll admit it. Hers was heavier. I've packed out whole boned-out caribou before, but that was some time ago, and half-caribou many times. She would not budge on leaving a load on the mountain until morning. Remember the bears? So now we were going to stagger back in twilight through Bear Alley, 1 1/2 miles to camp.
I shouldered my load and started down, behind her, and my spine started protesting. Sounded like stepping on a bag of tortilla chips. Last winter I dodged a surgical fix to spinal arthritis through PT, steroids, and a sharp doctor committed to surgery as a last resort. There was no way Id make it 600' down the mountain without putting myself in the hospital. I tightened up my pack, took a few valuables out, and kicked it over the edge. Down it tumbled and caught in the willow bottom. She made it down with her load, claimed Crocs enabled her to feel every rock. Well, they are soft on the bottom like a mountain goat's hoof.
My pack was damaged, but a field repair made it workable. Off we went, stumbling through Bear Alley, the braided river, near side willow, up the bench to camp and home by 1130 p.m. I only yelled "wait for meeee...." a few times. That girl was not going stop until that meat was safely behind those 2 strands of electric. I was worried that she would twist an ankle or worse, and I'd be in huge trouble from her mama. "What the *%&# were you thinking!?" was running through my mind all night.
We celebrated victory with electrolyte drink, freeze dried stroganoff, and almond joys. We were both pretty trashed, and I considered taking my emergency steroid pack my doctor gave me for this adventure, but I didn't. Amazingly, I woke up in the morning a bit stiff, but quite ambulatory, pretty good actually. Our pilot picked us up, on time, just as another fog bank was rolling in from the north slope. He snuck through a few passes, and deposited us at the airport.
So this trip was really about lessons I learned. My daughter is at the stage of life where anything, and everything is possible. Just get up and do it. I'm at the stage where I've lost enough battles that I approach everything with a wariness. Sometimes that can lead to a bit of overthinking. I thought I knew where my limits were, but time keeps moving those limits, narrowing my field of play. She and her brother, like most young adults, are getting stronger everyday, just because they are younger. And I'm getting weaker every day, no matter how I fight it, because that's aging. So I figured out what I'm going to do. We're making plans for next year!
Sorry this went so long, but sometimes I get going and can't stop. Happy trails!
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Re: Another AK Hunting Story
[Re: 30/06]
#7660767
08/29/22 05:09 PM
08/29/22 05:09 PM
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Joined: Jan 2009
Posts: 2,666 Idaho, Lemhi County
Gulo
"On The Other Hand"
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"On The Other Hand"
Joined: Jan 2009
Posts: 2,666
Idaho, Lemhi County
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06 -
Excellent ride-along. Thank you sir. Quite a few years ago, I was in the same boat you're in. Had some great caribou trips in the Mulchatna, Forty-Mile, Nelchina, etc.
Thanks
Jack
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Re: Another AK Hunting Story
[Re: 30/06]
#7660870
08/29/22 08:46 PM
08/29/22 08:46 PM
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Joined: Sep 2013
Posts: 18,376 Green County Wisconsin
GREENCOUNTYPETE
trapper
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trapper
Joined: Sep 2013
Posts: 18,376
Green County Wisconsin
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love the stories , long is ok
realizing you can't do what you once did , is hard and constant and you spend the rest of your life conceding what you can no longer do
keep fighting don't give in too soon
America only has one issue, we have a Responsibility crisis and everything else stems from it.
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Re: Another AK Hunting Story
[Re: 30/06]
#7661128
08/30/22 07:25 AM
08/30/22 07:25 AM
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Joined: Dec 2006
Posts: 5,639 Williamsport, Pa.
jk
trapper
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trapper
Joined: Dec 2006
Posts: 5,639
Williamsport, Pa.
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Thanks GCP you didn't have to remind me!! "realizing you can't do what you once did , is hard and constant and you spend the rest of your life conceding what you can no longer do" I am learning that every day now.....jk
Free people are not equal. Equal people are not free. What's supposed to be ain't always is. Hopper Hunter
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Re: Another AK Hunting Story
[Re: jk]
#7661192
08/30/22 09:08 AM
08/30/22 09:08 AM
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Joined: Sep 2013
Posts: 18,376 Green County Wisconsin
GREENCOUNTYPETE
trapper
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trapper
Joined: Sep 2013
Posts: 18,376
Green County Wisconsin
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Thanks GCP you didn't have to remind me!! "realizing you can't do what you once did , is hard and constant and you spend the rest of your life conceding what you can no longer do" I am learning that every day now.....jk everyone takes the test not everyone understands the lesson more of a pre-warning for the younger guys I watched it in my Grandpa , 30/06 my grandpa was 43-44 when I was born both a farmer and a stone mason when I was a kid there wasn't much physically he couldn't do my dad is 23 years older than I and I am also seeing in him , well have been for a while but he was busted up in his 30s with surgeries and back fusions and such. I am starting to have to admit it to my self just a little but pushing it off as long as I can and pushing harder so I can keep it as long as I can
America only has one issue, we have a Responsibility crisis and everything else stems from it.
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Re: Another AK Hunting Story
[Re: 30/06]
#7661207
08/30/22 09:25 AM
08/30/22 09:25 AM
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Joined: Jun 2010
Posts: 11,832 MT (Big Sky Country)
Allan Minear
trapper
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trapper
Joined: Jun 2010
Posts: 11,832
MT (Big Sky Country)
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Thanks for sharing your story and Congratulations on a successful hunt !
Isn't getting older fun with new adventures daily learning what you can and can't do or do as well as you once have done .
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Re: Another AK Hunting Story
[Re: 30/06]
#7661435
08/30/22 03:34 PM
08/30/22 03:34 PM
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Joined: Dec 2006
Posts: 15,586 MN, Land of 10,000 Lakes
Trapper7
trapper
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trapper
Joined: Dec 2006
Posts: 15,586
MN, Land of 10,000 Lakes
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Very nice. Congrats to the daughter!
I don't care how nice the hand soap smells, you should never walk out of the restroom sniffing your fingers.
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