Caribou Hunting Alaska
Expectations were high heading into the fall hunting season. The Alaskan Peninsula, known for its unpredictable weather, and giant Coastal Brown Bears, would be the destination, and home for the next month. Our target would be the Barren Ground Caribou, one of the largest antlered sub species in the Caribou family.
With hunting partners and friends, Ben Wohlers and Robert Hannamen also making the trip into the tundra, I was looking forward to working alongside some of the best in the industry.
Alaskan Outfitters, we went to Guide, and Pack for booked clients. Earning our way towards the opportunity to take a trophy of our own.
The weeks of packing and hunting were some of the most humbling experiences I have had in the outdoors. Weather, Bears, and deceivingly easy terrain always being a factor, tests the individual beyond anything I have experienced in the lower 48. With camps only accessible by plane, these areas are very remote. With only a tent for shelter, it is a true test of one's mental drive and strength. Which makes success 10x as sweet and rewarding in the end.
As booked clients finished up each of their successful hunts, all taking great bulls. Ben Wohlers and I found ourselves as the only two left in camp. Meaning it was our time to strap on our packs, and find our own trophies.
Day one of our hunt found Ben behind the trigger first. Heading to our high point, roughly ¾ of a mile from camp, we would begin to glass, and locate caribou that would allow us a chance to get within range of Ben's Christensen Arms 300 Remington Ultra Mag. The terrain being extremely flat tundra, making it tough to get within range of the constantly moving Caribou. These critters have the ability to cover ground on the tundra in almost a magical way, floating over humps and dips like they were never even there. That being said, it is almost impossible to catch up to a caribou if it is not heading in your direction.
With an hour of glassing under our belts, we were able to glass a herd of bulls more than a mile from our current location. With such a great distance between us in slow moving terrain, a stalk like this is very risky. Although the Caribou being bedded at just over a mile away, at any second without warning can get up and start moving, and usually not in a favorable direction.
Deciding to hustle and make a move on these caribou, we begin moving through the tundra as fast as humanly possible, which is the pace of a slow walk.
Having glassed good bulls from our perch, we knew that making a run for the Caribou was well worth the risk of arriving and finding they had moved off. Meaning a very long walk back to the perch, with our tail between our legs.
Peeking up over a small rise, we could see the bulls still out in front of us, a mere 500 yards away. We slowly closed the gap by 50 yards in order to gain enough elevation to shoot over the grass. It being one of the nicest days we had on our stay in the Peninsula, the heat waves were as thick as I had seen. With only the frames and quick flashes of tines, it made observing the details of their antlers almost impossible. When first glassing the herd, a single bull caught my eye. The bull was framed very nicely, but the selling point was the snow white mane on the bulls neck. Which made him stand out amongst all the other bulls around him. Instantly I knew that was a bull I would love to take. With details of his headgear in question, the beauty of his cape alone made up for whatever was on his head.
Ben, settling in on the gun, in preparation for the shot, looked at me and asked if I would like to take the shot. Without hesitation I gave a definite yes, and traded position. With him on the camera, and me behind the trigger. It only took a few seconds to find the bull I had had my eye on. Having a great frame and a beautiful cape, I knew that was the bull I wanted to take. With a quick adjustment on the turret of the Vortex rifle scope, the bull was broadside at 350 yards. With a slight exhale I squeezed the trigger, and the bull immediately took off. Not sure if I had hit him, I fired again at 450 yards, where he would begin to stagger and ultimately expire.
The weeks of packing and hunting were some of the most humbling experiences I have had in the outdoors. Weather, Bears, and deceivingly easy terrain always being a factor, tests the individual beyond anything I have experienced in the lower 48. With camps only accessible by plane, these areas are very remote. With only a tent for shelter, it is a true test of one's mental drive and strength. Which makes success 10x as sweet and rewarding in the end.
As booked clients finished up each of their successful hunts, all taking great bulls. Ben Wohlers and I found ourselves as the only two left in camp. Meaning it was our time to strap on our packs, and find our own trophies.
Day one of our hunt found Ben behind the trigger first. Heading to our high point, roughly ¾ of a mile from camp, we would begin to glass, and locate caribou that would allow us a chance to get within range of Ben's Christensen Arms 300 Remington Ultra Mag. The terrain being extremely flat tundra, making it tough to get within range of the constantly moving Caribou. These critters have the ability to cover ground on the tundra in almost a magical way, floating over humps and dips like they were never even there. That being said, it is almost impossible to catch up to a caribou if it is not heading in your direction.
With an hour of glassing under our belts, we were able to glass a herd of bulls more than a mile from our current location. With such a great distance between us in slow moving terrain, a stalk like this is very risky. Although the Caribou being bedded at just over a mile away, at any second without warning can get up and start moving, and usually not in a favorable direction.
Deciding to hustle and make a move on these caribou, we begin moving through the tundra as fast as humanly possible, which is the pace of a slow walk.
Having glassed good bulls from our perch, we knew that making a run for the Caribou was well worth the risk of arriving and finding they had moved off. Meaning a very long walk back to the perch, with our tail between our legs.
Peeking up over a small rise, we could see the bulls still out in front of us, a mere 500 yards away. We slowly closed the gap by 50 yards in order to gain enough elevation to shoot over the grass. It being one of the nicest days we had on our stay in the Peninsula, the heat waves were as thick as I had seen. With only the frames and quick flashes of tines, it made observing the details of their antlers almost impossible. When first glassing the herd, a single bull caught my eye. The bull was framed very nicely, but the selling point was the snow white mane on the bulls neck. Which made him stand out amongst all the other bulls around him. Instantly I knew that was a bull I would love to take. With details of his headgear in question, the beauty of his cape alone made up for whatever was on his head.
Ben, settling in on the gun, in preparation for the shot, looked at me and asked if I would like to take the shot. Without hesitation I gave a definite yes, and traded position. With him on the camera, and me behind the trigger. It only took a few seconds to find the bull I had had my eye on. Having a great frame and a beautiful cape, I knew that was the bull I wanted to take. With a quick adjustment on the turret of the Vortex rifle scope, the bull was broadside at 350 yards. With a slight exhale I squeezed the trigger, and the bull immediately took off. Not sure if I had hit him, I fired again at 450 yards, where he would begin to stagger and ultimately expire.
A giant sense of relief came over me, there was no hooting and hollering, just an overall sense of accomplishment. I'm not sure if Ben and I even slapped hands, we were both just happy to have a Caribou down.
Upon walking up to the bull, the only thing I could see was a giant sword sticking up out of the tundra. Very confused at what I was looking at, I began to get closer, and realized this bull had no tines on the top of one of his antlers! It was definitely an interesting look. But knowing this bull wasn't the magnum caliber we had been harvesting for from the beginning, I still felt very fortunate to have taken the animal. Visions of my funky caribou bull with the whitest of white manes had started to grace my mind, with countless ideas of how to display him in my trophy room rushing through my head.
I'm grateful for Dwayne of Magnusson Alaskan Outfitters for allowing me the opportunity to take such a beautiful animal. A big thanks to Ben Wohlers, my guide and mentor, for teaching me the ways of life and the outdoors. I'm looking forward to caribou camp again this fall. But this time I won't be “Paco the Packer” but instead “Paco the Alaskan Guide”.
I'm grateful for Dwayne of Magnusson Alaskan Outfitters for allowing me the opportunity to take such a beautiful animal. A big thanks to Ben Wohlers, my guide and mentor, for teaching me the ways of life and the outdoors. I'm looking forward to caribou camp again this fall. But this time I won't be “Paco the Packer” but instead “Paco the Alaskan Guide”.
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