Hunting with Jerry
by Connie Cloud
For the people who know me and my older brother Jerry, the idea of me
"taking" him caribou hunting is bizarre no matter how you look at it. Jerry
has been hunting since elementary school. I have been playing at it only
since I moved back to Alaska and mainly because it gave me another reason to
go flying. The idea of me "taking" Jerry caribou hunting was planted in his
mind when he heard about my first caribou hunt with Ricky. Since I was
already hunting, why not take him? Ricky and I had done a spring hunt a year
or two earlier. During that hunt Ricky and I had been able to land on a
frozen lake fairly close to the caribou and hunt the same day. With Jerry it
would have to be a fall hunt, no frozen lakes to land on and no hunting and
shooting the same day. The main challenge in Jerry's hunt would be finding a
landing strip close to caribou yet somewhere that wasn't over crowded.
Planning for this trip started almost a year in advance. Plan A called for me to fly into Anchorage and pick Jerry up as we headed out to where ever we would be hunting. But that year I ended up working in McGrath for most of the summer. Now instead of picking Jerry up in the Tripacer in Anchorage he just flew to McGrath. Jerry came in on my Friday, which allowed us the afternoon to get his hunting license and a chance to talk with the local fish and game biologist. For the license we headed over to Pete's house. As Jerry was filling out the paperwork a beat-up old pick-up truck pulled into the dirt driveway. Manzie, a life long resident of the McGrath, climbed out of the cab wearing a sleeveless flannel shirt so impregnated with dirt and grease it's true color could only be guessed at. He had flown his Super Cub in from Candle, his gold mine. Candle at one time had belonged to Pete before a stroke had left him unable to do the heavy work mining required. After introductions Manzie pulled out a package he had wrapped in a dirty towel. He turned to Pete and asked if he wanted to see how they had done at the mine this season? As he was talking he slowly removed the dirty wrapping from a bread loaf shaped chuck of metal. Manzie then handed Pete a season's worth of work. The summer's take of gold mining had been melted down into a loaf of gold weighting in at 28 lbs! It didn't look to be all that heavy but when Manzie handed it to Jerry then myself we were shocked at how much heavier it was then what it appeared.
Next on the list of stops was the local AC (Alaska Commercial) store, the only store in town, for all the last minute stuff we would need. The AC store could be compared to a good size 7-11. But in this compacted space I was always amazed that you could find about the same things you would at Safeway, but with a lot less choice. Granted, all their meat was frozen and the fruit and vegetables could look a bit tired. In addition they had a decent amount of fishing gear and clothing, so it really wasn't a bad place to shop. The checkout lady didn't bat an eye when Jerry asked if it was "OK" for him to take a picture of the produce to show his friends how much things cost in McGrath.
Early the next morning we were off. First stop, Farewell Strip to drop the mail
off for Dewey. There's no such thing as landing and tossing Dewey's mail to
him. Over coffee we had a chance to ask if there were any caribou in the
area, there wasn't. On our way to our next stop, White Mountain, I impressed
Jerry by finding the Farewell Buffalo herd. Then it was onto White Mountain,
our first choice of places to hunt. This was my first time into White
Mountain (there are about 6 White Mountains in Alaska) where a friend's
family had a gold mine. The strip wasn't difficult to find, but the caribou
were nowhere to be found so it was off to our next choice, Taylor Mountain.
Another couple of friends have an active gold mine there and had invited me
to come out any time. The 2,000 foot strip was a bit tricky with hills on 3 sides
including the landing and departure sides. As we approached the area we
could see vast herds of caribou.
Taylor Mountain Strip
The Taylor Mountain strip isn't the type of strip I like to make unnecessary landings or take offs. Between its narrowness and the surrounding raising terrain this strip demands concentration. The landing went off without a hitch. Taxiing to the end of the strip where Jay and Jamie lived there was a good size hunting camp set up. As we shut down, someone I didn't know walked over and basically told us to leave. He and his partner were guiding hunts out of this strip and they had the only rights to hunt from there. We talked a bit and since my friends were mining at a new location and couldn't be easily reached, Jerry and I decided to check out the other locations on our list.
Flying over the
fall landscape of the leaves changing to autumn gold and the tundra turning
into a cranberry red was breathtaking. The remaining hunting areas were as
lacking in caribou as White Mountains. With all the flying we had done that
day we decided to head back to McGrath. This would give us a chance to top
off the plane with fuel and rethink what we were going to do.
We were out early again the next morning on our way back to Taylor Mountain. I knew I had been invited to hunt there inspite of what the other party had told us. Once we reached Taylor Mountain we spent some time flying around the area to see where the caribou were. There didn't seem to be any shortage of the animals. Alaska law does not allow you to hunt and fly the same day during fall hunts. Once on the ground we could still take off during the remainder of that day, but there would be no taking off the next day to see where the caribou might have gone. (Alaska is very serious about this law and will confiscate all equipment, including airplane if you fly and hunt on the same day).
Our reception committee was there again but we explained that
we were staying. Jay and Jamey drove in just after our arrival from their
new mining operations and told us to park down at the camp side of the
runway. And by the way, we would be staying in their cabins. Parking was
soon getting a bit crowded by the time a C182 came in bring some friends from
Aniak, a village down river on the Kuskowim River. Nelson, the pilot of the
C182 worked at the school and was a regular visitor to Taylor Mountain. The
4 wheeler that was at the camp even belonged to him. I would have loved to
seen it being carried out in the back of a C182, minus the passenger door.
Jerry and I had brought out one of the treasures of the bush, a current
newspaper. But I'm afraid Nelson upstaged us when he showed up with fresh
chocolate covered donuts.
The whole time Jerry and I had been planning this hunt we were worried about how cold it can become in Alaska in September. Three years before our hunt there had been record early cold temperatures. That year the lakes and rivers had frozen over early and the guides who had dropped off hunters on floats were having a hard time beating the ice on the lakes to get back to pick up their hunters and equipment. In some cases it came down to picking up only the hunter and their game and leaving all of their gear behind to be picked up at a later date when they could fly in on skis. Then the guides were on to the next camp to retrieve the next group of hunters before they were all stuck out there waiting for freeze up. Finally the governor signed an emergency bill allowing helicopters to pick up hunters and their game. (Normally it's illegal to use helicopters to transport hunters and their game).
Heading up the
hillside behind the runway the next morning we knew cold was not going to be
something we would have to worry about, at least not that day. At the top of
the first ridge we encountered our first caribou, a group of 3 or 4 heading
rapidly away from us, at least the caribou had not moved out of the area.
The next group we came across had a nice bull with a double shovel on his
antlers and Jerry decided to take that one. With Jerry's caribou down and
the area marked, we continued to search for a caribou for me. We kept coming
across small groups of caribou which were either too far away or not what I
was looking for. The few clouds that had been out in the morning were
clearing out and the day was getting down right hot. It was mid-afternoon
when I finally settled on a caribou. There was a group of 3 or 4 caribou.
One had a very nice rack. I laid down to get a better shot, pulled the
trigger and the caribou dropped. Walking over to the downed animal and I was
shocked to see it was not the caribou I had sighted in on. This animal was
smaller then the one I had wanted to shoot. Somehow between picking out the
animal I wanted to shoot and the aiming, I had misplaced my caribou. Then I
felt really guilty. Regardless of which animal was shot I felt I needed to
have respect for it.
The fun stopped and now the work started. Jay had offered to come out with the 4 wheeler and pick up our caribou so we would not have to pack them back to the airplane. So I started the long hike back to the camp and left Jerry there to field dress and take care of the caribou. It's funny how when hunting and slowly making your way toward the animals you don't realize just how far you have gone. That is until you turn around and start to head back to camp. During the three or so miles it took to hike back to camp, almost all of it up hill, the afternoon started to turn into evening and cool off. At long last I reached the runway and just had the length of it to go. A gray haired gentleman who looked like he just walked out of the latest Cabela's catalog, was out by the runway. He was one of the clients at the hunting camp waiting to go out in a Super Cub the next morning. As we walked you could tell he was really jazzed to be on this adventure- a hunt of a lifetime He was a bit surprised to find me wandering down the runway by myself with a rife slung over my shoulder. The surprised look didn't go away when I told him I was out hunting caribou with my brother and we had taken two that day. He became even more surprised to discover caribou were within walking distance of this location and there really wasn't a need to be flown out anywhere to shoot one.
Nelson volunteered to
head back up the hill to pick up Jerry. It was getting pretty late so we
would head out in the morning to collect the meat. While waiting for Jerry
to come on in I mentioned to Jay something Jerry had said. What hard work it
was gutting something "as big as a caribou". Jay waited a moment and with a
laugh said he didn't think of caribou as being big, but how small they are
when compared to moose.
Just as it was turning dark Jerry and Nelson returned. The kerosene lanterns came out and dinner was a combination of something from everyone. Around the table that night the talk was of our hunt and the other big news was the moving of the outhouse. The outhouse had been in the same location for some time and it was just time to relocate it. Soon the cots and sleeping bags were brought out and situated about the kitchen with plans of everyone taking off tomorrow. Jerry and I back to McGrath, Nelson and his friend back to Aniak, and Jay and Jamey back to their mine site.
If you plan a trip to Taylor Mountain, please remember that the strip is private and you will need permission to land.
Next episode: The Trip Home.