Haul Road 2010

We made the annual trip to the North Slope for Caribou last week. Heading up there the weather just got better and better the further from Anchorage we went. Way up north where the tundra sprawls out from the Brooks Range, it was blue bird skies and caribou dotted the hills around us. There were four of us going in on this trip and we left the road with light packs hoping to bring out three bulls. It was supposed to be my turn to shoot, but I was planning to let my wife have the chance again this year since we’re not sure what hunting season will look like next year with the little one on the way. (How many other guys have their 5 month pregnant wife go on a backpack hunt with them…I’m blessed.)

Over the course of three days hunting we didn’t see the numbers of wandering caribou (especially groups of bulls) that we normally see, but our first day in there had several nice ones around that we filled two tags with. We stalked Liz’s bull till antler tines were spotted sticking over the brush. Then it was sun bath until he stood up and exited the brush.

Joel’s bull was much the same story, but that bou evaded us on two stalks because of bugs in his ears. Both times we were set up on him (under 170yrds) while he was bedded, but he’d erupt from the brush shaking his head, snorting, and running with all kinds of crazyness on the tussocks. He must have felt bad for us, because later on…he came back. While we were butchering the first bull we looked up to see him and a couple other bulls feeding our way (300yrds out). It was a short stalk to get him. The next day we shuttled some meat closer to the road and had slim pickings for good bulls in our area the entire day. Now onto Jayson’s bull. Don’t let his REI granola boy clothes scare you – he’s a good guy despite the colors.

The last morning we decided to have him take one of the bulls we’d seen the day before. Only this time he was a mile further way. He was a great meat bull, though not much for massive antlers…he actually looks like a little giant. After that it was shuttling meat, moving camp, and enjoying campfires from the wood we’d packed in. Having a fire on the barren tundra is pretty special! The dog’s saddle bags do a great job for packing in split spruce. The last day we decided to haul the entire load of camp gear and three caribou to the road in one trip. Holy Smokes, that was the heaviest pack I’ve carried. Not sure what it weighed, but I know when I pack a full sheep out myself it’s 135lbs and a struggle to get up on my own. Once I got down and buckled into this beast, I couldn’t even budge it. I needed the assistance of my fellow sherpas to get to my feet, then it was hike, hike, hike, rest on poles and repeat for 1.5 miles. You should have heard me cheer when I got to the truck. I get rather excited at that point on these trips.

Thanks Joel and Jayson for helping carry the loads and making it easier on Liz (and the little pea) while we were out there.

Note: Coldfoot shuts down the grill for the evenings so we passed on the buffet (we’re not buffet people) and made a roadside supper down the road. Are gourmet meals like this allowed over a campfire? (Tri-Tip, Motzerella, & Tomatoes)

Backpack Hunting Tip #142

Rain and a stiff breeze (the same one you where using to dry out your clothes) causes "Spin Drift" to come in under the rainfly - for those of us going floorless in the tents.

A good way to combat this is to create a barrier on the windy side with rocks - or if they aren't readily available or isn't enough, use all the weeks mountain houses! This is also known as wind breaks - which is not to be confused with breaking wind...

Backpack Hunting Tip #124

Mountain Man Locker Room - tools necessary for a clothes line above tree line.

• Two trekking poles
• Parachute Chord
• A couple tent stakes
• A stiff breeze or (better yet) sunshine

Dragons

Hiking down through the alders with a heavily loaded pack of fresh sheep meat - and having two dragons suddenly fill the air with incredibly loud buzzing right beside you - makes you realize how on edge you are while you're alone in the wilderness.

I guess the Dragonfly rut was in full swing while I was out on the sheep hunt.

Solo Sheep Hunt 2010

If excitement can make you an insomniac…I’ll believe it. Haven’t had much sleep from Friday through Monday. My buddy Steve and I had struck out on the initial sheep hunt this year so I headed off for a quick, solo trip to Ram Gulch. While I’ve taken friends or family in there for three different rams, I’d never taken one myself. Steve, in a previous year, had set a truck to truck record of 48hrs for a successful trip. I was going to have to do that or better since I needed to be back at work Monday morning! The option of finishing packing another day wasn’t a possibility.

So I left the truck at 8:30pm Friday night and had to quit hiking on account of darkness after a couple hours. Note: hiking by yourself in the dark, through bear infested timber, isn’t very fun. Then standing there in the dark, ground too wet to sit down on, and eating a cold sandwich at 11pm, well, it was a lonesome supper. After that it was a short nap, but when the alarm got me up and going again at 5am, I was kinda relived to be on the move. There’d been too many griz tracks on the way in, and it was a fitful nights rest. Once I got to a good glassing spot, I found rams, 16-18 of ‘em (it’s debatable). One, way up high, showed the signs of being full curl with a couple others that were close but weren’t going to make the cut. So, now for the stalk. Nothing better than climbing around and up the backside of the mountain to play it safe, oh yeah, and a bunch of alders to start it. It was a long and tedious climb getting up there, and the last 600yrds or so I was dogging it pretty good. But I made the summit, camoed up, and started to sneak in. I’d left the valley floor while the rams were heading to their beds and hoped to still find them there. The rest of the details are sketchy but it involved lots of sitting in uncomfortable positions as I’d wait for various rams to get up and move, fall asleep, or bed looking in opposite directions so I could move closer. There was even a moment in the warm sun, a soft sheep meadow, and falling asleep, then suddenly rousing myself because “hey, I’m sheep hunting.” However, a later count revealed I did miss a few going out to feed while I dozed there for 10 minutes. That’s being on it isn’t it. They’d have been well out of shooting range, but I’d have known what I was in for anyways. As it was I finally snuck into the thick of where they were and a 15/16 seven year old held my attention for a long time. One of those big dark horned beauties, that try as I might, I couldn’t make him legal. It was a long time of sitting up there (all six hours) and it got pretty chilly once the sun dropped behind the mountains. Finally at 7pm, the rams that were out feeding came back. Looking these six over, one was definitely the full curl ram I’d hiked up here for. So I got set up for the shot and get this; tried to run the video camera at the same time. Multi-tasking almost cost me the ram. I was so excited, I had him feeding in front of me at 250yrds, middle of the frame on the camera, and I hurried the shot…and missed him. He jumped forward and looked around, and this time I completely checked the camera out of my mind and put a bullet where I needed. Sometimes, it’s only after you shoot one of these rams that you realize how steep the slope is that you’re on. He took quite the tumble – so I apologize for the bloody pictures. I wanted to clean him up, but I was out of water. Knowing it was going to get dark on me while butchering, I looked around for a camp spot, found one that would work if I built a rock wall up so I could brace my feet against it to keep from tobogganing down the mountain in my sleeping bag. Then I got to taking care of him. Those rocks under my feet felt so good when I crawled into bed at 1am. I was a wonderful feeling having worked that hard to get this ram…a 20 hour day to make it happen.

The ram isn’t a big one…not quite 33 inches on the long horn, but he’s one that I’m super excited about! Pretty neat when it’s just you and God walking together out there!

Morning had me struggling up under the pack and making my way back to the truck. It went something like this; That pond water sure tastes good with 10 iodine tablets in it after 12 hours of thirstiness. Gosh, this 130lb pack feels heavy. How the heck did the pack and scree slope team up and put me hard on my side like that. Man I’m dirty. These climbs are killing my mph average. Lean over trekking poles to rest the legs…for as long as I could handle the whitesocks and mosquitoes biting my arms (usually only 10 seconds…I can’t get a break). Swampy terrain sucks! This pack is heavy…I’m loving it. Drat, out of water again (it’s only like four more miles to a creek). Holy smokes I about can’t even spit I’m so thirsty…then remembering a story about our soldiers on the Bataan Death March in the Philippines, “I’m doing great.” Finally the creek and then that last long haul to the truck with an energy boost of “smelling the barn.”
By the numbers:

• 47 hours truck to truck
• Over 20 miles
• 9 hours on Sunday under a 130lb pack
• 33 x 13 on the horns (5 years old!!!!)
• 15 hours sleep in three nights
• One Extremely Happy Sheep Hunter

Falta Leche

Steve and I had an awesome time in the mountains…again. Hard not to do when we head out together. But as far as the rams go, every one of them is still alive. It’s not very often the white rams are within shooting distance of Scott and Steve and they get to walk away.

Here’s the short version of the story. We started off the trip soaking wet after hiking all day in the pouring rain and set up camp late in the evening shivering like a couple hypo boys. Luckily day #2 was a nice one and we got to dry out our clothes. After glassing around from a distance that day, we had a lot of rams to look over and knew we had three bigger rams in the area.

There were also some plans to head further into the glaciated country if needed. But mother nature decided to foil the plans. The evening before the opener, we had thick fog roll in and set up camp with us. For the next three days we basically had 15 yard visibility. Every once in a while, we’d get a break, and we’d get after hunting, but the breaks were short lived which several times had us within range of rams but unable to see more than shadows in the mist. One time we had an ambush set up, rams were coming down the mountain at 450yrds, and the lead ram looked good. Then, in just a few seconds, the fog engulfed us and we watched shapes float past us at 50yrds! Here's a view of what it looked like...

It was frustrating, but finally we got it figured out, and hunted hard to get ourselves in position on all three rams the last couple days. We snuck within 200-300 yards of each of them and spent hours on each ram checking all the details with the Leica Spotting Scope. Turns out each of them were Falta Leche (Spanish for short milk). They were just shy of full curl and almost identical as 15/16 curls and 7 years old. Try as we might, we just couldn’t make them legal. And to top it off, our plans to go further back were cut short by the fact that we no longer had time. So we had to hike out of there with empty packs. We don’t get much credit or glory for this story, but we’re pretty proud that we were able to be the sheep hunters that we’ve been telling other sheep hunters to be for years… "let those marginal rams go and grow another year." Other fun stories are hiking knife ridges, mountain goats at 3 yards, and hearing God say “move your tent for tonight” just before a wind storm hit! The bummer is Steve is done for the year as he had to head back home to Prince of Whales Island. I’m still hoping for a chance at some weekend spots as we still have lots of sheep season left. I’ll keep you posted.