MinnesotaHunter
Well-known member
Wow, Randy. That is an awesome Sitka. I think I sense an episode of the year!
AK Blacktails -Fantasy Island
- Thread starter Big Fin
- Start date
WapitiBob
Well-known member
Congrats on another fun adventure.
Joe Hulburt
Well-known member
Sweet! That would most definitely be a dream come true for this blacktail fanatic.
muledeerjunkie
Member
Toad!
shoots-straight
Well-known member
Nothing can be added to the last 40 posts. Congrats!
Trying to find the good starting point for this story. Guess I will go back and start with when I first met Jim Baichtal; about six or seven years ago. I was introduced to Jim through a good friend who knew of my passion for Southeast Alaska and that I had longed to hunt Sitka Blacktails in the alpine. He introduced me to Jim and we have visited often, him coming to Montana to hunt with our mutual friend, meeting together at hunting events, and finding to be a good fit.
Jim works for the Forest Service as a geologist. When not on the Tongass for his job, he is out on the forest doing anything hunting related. For a while, Jim was into black bears, then sheep, then along the way, got very interested in the deer living in his own back yard. Jim has volunteered thousands of hours and many times that in dollars, helping study these deer.
It is interesting to hunt with a geologist who looks at the landscape from a completely different perspective. Jim seems the geology as part of solving the riddle as to where big bucks will be for nutritional values. Given the number of really big bucks we saw this week, there is no way I will argue with him about his theories. Cliff’s notes version- hunt bucks in limestone area where there is far more calcium in the soil and far more nutrition for the plants that expresses itself in above average antler growth. Since that is not information I learned through years of hard work, no charge for that tidbit.
Every year Jim extended an invitation for me to hunt his favorite alpine haunt here in Southeast Alaska. Before anyone sends a PM and asks where, save your key strokes. Every year I had other obligations, other tags, etc. that kept me from taking advantage of Jim’s kind offer. Finally, I made up my mind that this was going to be the year, barring some sort of unexpected emergency. Figured that pretty soon he would just start making the offer to someone else if I decline another time.
With that, we loaded for Ketchikan last Wednesday, then caught a Beaver flight to Thorne Bay that afternoon. By then, I am into the trip a total of $90 license, $135 tag, $450 round trip airfare from Bozeman to Ketchikan, plus $120 flight to Thorne Bay. So far, a pretty cheap trip for an Alaska experience. For us and all our production gear, we had to charter a Beaver from Ketchikan, rather than the $120 for a commuter flight. Not something the average guy would incur.
The plan was to fly to the beach on Thursday morning, then attack the Devil’s Club jungle for six hours in hopes to be at camp late afternoon and hunting that evening. Well, zero visibility changed that plan. Day one of the hunt was sitting around Jim and Karen’s beautiful house, admiring his wall of amazing trophies, and waiting for the clouds to part.
Late morning on Friday, we were called to get ready. The weather was breaking and we could be picked up in Craig by a plane that was going to be there. He could drop us off at the beach Jim had marked and have us there around 1:30pm. We had been packed and ready since we arrived, so Karen drove us to Craig where we jumped on a Beaver that skimmed along under the low cloud ceiling.
The Beaver made a big loop before landing. I caught a glimpse of what was ahead for the rest of the day. This was more than I expected, even though Jim told me it would be six hours of fighting to get through the deadfall, slippery slopes of moss and fern, and eventually arrive at a spot he had last used as a camp in 2009. Tyler and I looked at each other and smiled. What had we gotten ourselves into this time?
In fact, on the jet ride up here, we kind of chuckled and stated that there is no terrain that would require six hours to navigate one horizontal mile and 1,400' of elevation. By that evening, we would stand corrected. And stand impressed.
Jim is 58 years old. He spends all his time in this country, climbing and hunting. By far the most old school guy I have ever hunted with. How he hauled his heavy load up that mess, jungle, whatever you want to call it, was very impressive. I am sure some 58 year old guys could have done it, but the ones I can think of are few and far between. He attributes his stamina and determination to do this type of thing to be his love for the deer and his quest to enjoy as much of these public lands as he can before an orthopedic surgeon starts to replace some of his parts.
I wish video or pictures could do it justice. They do not. The episode will not. In order to understand it, you have to come here and fight it. It really is just that, a fight. A fight to stay upright. A fight to keep your clothes attached to your body when brush is grabbing at them. A fight to see where you are going. A fight to not get cliffed out and have to back track. Those who have been here chasing these alpine deer or goat hunts that start from the coast, know what I am talking about. Those who have not are probably chuckling that Randy and Tyler are a couple of candy asses if it takes them that long. That will change when you come here and do it.
It was about 8 pm when we finally emerged from the trees to a meadow that looks like something you see on an exotic island; so green and lush it almost did not seem real. And scattered among that array of green brilliance were red dots of bucks higher above the 1,400’ base camp location.
As much as we knew we needed to filter water, set tents, and get meals started, the number of bucks in the spotters were just too much. We continued glassing, counting 20+ bucks from one glassing location. They were all on the ridges that reached another 1,000’ to 1,300 straight up from camp. I’ll post some pics that show just how straight up that country is.
The sun set behind the ridges with us still squinting through the spotters. We tossed up tents and made some Mountain House dinners just before darkness came. The Katadyn Base Camp 10L filter gave us enough for a couple days of hard hunting. The alarm was set. A Sandhill Crane sat atop a high ridge making noise that on most occasions would keep me awake. After the long grunt of hauling a ton of camp and cameras to this location, sleep was not an issue. I don’t even remember zipping the sleeping bag that night.
Tyler getting set for the haul.
Jim and I taking our first break, with him assuring me it only gets worse from here.
About a third the way up. That is not rain on Jim's hair. We are sweating profusely beneath the protective layer of rain gear needed to keep the Devil's Club and other plants from tearing the clothes off your skin.
Tyler in deep contemplation about the sanity of doing this.
What it looked like when we broke out of the trees. The vibrant greens reminded me of some of the scenes from the old Fantasy Island TV show, thus the title of this thread. Jim shot his buck from up top of the canyon to the left side of this photo.
More photos that do not do justice to the steepness of what we had to traverse from camp to get up when the deer are.
More of the beauty this basin holds.
A tighter shot of the kind of terrain that holds big blacktails. As Tyler said, way closer to goat or sheep hunting than it is to deer hunting.
Jim works for the Forest Service as a geologist. When not on the Tongass for his job, he is out on the forest doing anything hunting related. For a while, Jim was into black bears, then sheep, then along the way, got very interested in the deer living in his own back yard. Jim has volunteered thousands of hours and many times that in dollars, helping study these deer.
It is interesting to hunt with a geologist who looks at the landscape from a completely different perspective. Jim seems the geology as part of solving the riddle as to where big bucks will be for nutritional values. Given the number of really big bucks we saw this week, there is no way I will argue with him about his theories. Cliff’s notes version- hunt bucks in limestone area where there is far more calcium in the soil and far more nutrition for the plants that expresses itself in above average antler growth. Since that is not information I learned through years of hard work, no charge for that tidbit.
Every year Jim extended an invitation for me to hunt his favorite alpine haunt here in Southeast Alaska. Before anyone sends a PM and asks where, save your key strokes. Every year I had other obligations, other tags, etc. that kept me from taking advantage of Jim’s kind offer. Finally, I made up my mind that this was going to be the year, barring some sort of unexpected emergency. Figured that pretty soon he would just start making the offer to someone else if I decline another time.
With that, we loaded for Ketchikan last Wednesday, then caught a Beaver flight to Thorne Bay that afternoon. By then, I am into the trip a total of $90 license, $135 tag, $450 round trip airfare from Bozeman to Ketchikan, plus $120 flight to Thorne Bay. So far, a pretty cheap trip for an Alaska experience. For us and all our production gear, we had to charter a Beaver from Ketchikan, rather than the $120 for a commuter flight. Not something the average guy would incur.
The plan was to fly to the beach on Thursday morning, then attack the Devil’s Club jungle for six hours in hopes to be at camp late afternoon and hunting that evening. Well, zero visibility changed that plan. Day one of the hunt was sitting around Jim and Karen’s beautiful house, admiring his wall of amazing trophies, and waiting for the clouds to part.
Late morning on Friday, we were called to get ready. The weather was breaking and we could be picked up in Craig by a plane that was going to be there. He could drop us off at the beach Jim had marked and have us there around 1:30pm. We had been packed and ready since we arrived, so Karen drove us to Craig where we jumped on a Beaver that skimmed along under the low cloud ceiling.
The Beaver made a big loop before landing. I caught a glimpse of what was ahead for the rest of the day. This was more than I expected, even though Jim told me it would be six hours of fighting to get through the deadfall, slippery slopes of moss and fern, and eventually arrive at a spot he had last used as a camp in 2009. Tyler and I looked at each other and smiled. What had we gotten ourselves into this time?
In fact, on the jet ride up here, we kind of chuckled and stated that there is no terrain that would require six hours to navigate one horizontal mile and 1,400' of elevation. By that evening, we would stand corrected. And stand impressed.
Jim is 58 years old. He spends all his time in this country, climbing and hunting. By far the most old school guy I have ever hunted with. How he hauled his heavy load up that mess, jungle, whatever you want to call it, was very impressive. I am sure some 58 year old guys could have done it, but the ones I can think of are few and far between. He attributes his stamina and determination to do this type of thing to be his love for the deer and his quest to enjoy as much of these public lands as he can before an orthopedic surgeon starts to replace some of his parts.
I wish video or pictures could do it justice. They do not. The episode will not. In order to understand it, you have to come here and fight it. It really is just that, a fight. A fight to stay upright. A fight to keep your clothes attached to your body when brush is grabbing at them. A fight to see where you are going. A fight to not get cliffed out and have to back track. Those who have been here chasing these alpine deer or goat hunts that start from the coast, know what I am talking about. Those who have not are probably chuckling that Randy and Tyler are a couple of candy asses if it takes them that long. That will change when you come here and do it.
It was about 8 pm when we finally emerged from the trees to a meadow that looks like something you see on an exotic island; so green and lush it almost did not seem real. And scattered among that array of green brilliance were red dots of bucks higher above the 1,400’ base camp location.
As much as we knew we needed to filter water, set tents, and get meals started, the number of bucks in the spotters were just too much. We continued glassing, counting 20+ bucks from one glassing location. They were all on the ridges that reached another 1,000’ to 1,300 straight up from camp. I’ll post some pics that show just how straight up that country is.
The sun set behind the ridges with us still squinting through the spotters. We tossed up tents and made some Mountain House dinners just before darkness came. The Katadyn Base Camp 10L filter gave us enough for a couple days of hard hunting. The alarm was set. A Sandhill Crane sat atop a high ridge making noise that on most occasions would keep me awake. After the long grunt of hauling a ton of camp and cameras to this location, sleep was not an issue. I don’t even remember zipping the sleeping bag that night.
Tyler getting set for the haul.
Jim and I taking our first break, with him assuring me it only gets worse from here.
About a third the way up. That is not rain on Jim's hair. We are sweating profusely beneath the protective layer of rain gear needed to keep the Devil's Club and other plants from tearing the clothes off your skin.
Tyler in deep contemplation about the sanity of doing this.
What it looked like when we broke out of the trees. The vibrant greens reminded me of some of the scenes from the old Fantasy Island TV show, thus the title of this thread. Jim shot his buck from up top of the canyon to the left side of this photo.
More photos that do not do justice to the steepness of what we had to traverse from camp to get up when the deer are.
More of the beauty this basin holds.
A tighter shot of the kind of terrain that holds big blacktails. As Tyler said, way closer to goat or sheep hunting than it is to deer hunting.
Kiwi
Well-known member
Congrats! Cant wait for the story.
Epfd217
Member
Gorgeous! Amazing bucks and scenery to boot. Keep it coming Randy!
recon6036
Well-known member
Two great bucks and pics for sure! Congrats.
Eric.MN
Well-known member
Beautiful country side and nice trophies! Congrats on the hunt adventure
I did this hunt last year and know full well how that terrain is,and no picture does it justice.But when you reach alpine, its like a whole different world.I can't wait to torture myself again next year with another blacktail hunt.I didn't even prep myself as I thought it would be easy,big mistake
That is 2 great bucks you guys took.I couldn't imagine how you got all your filming gear up to alpine.My guess is your a good10lbs lighter now after a trip like that.I can't wait to watch the episode!!!Blacktail hunting is a new love of mine.I'll be a lot better prepared next year
Congrats again on a great Sitka blacktail
That is 2 great bucks you guys took.I couldn't imagine how you got all your filming gear up to alpine.My guess is your a good10lbs lighter now after a trip like that.I can't wait to watch the episode!!!Blacktail hunting is a new love of mine.I'll be a lot better prepared next year
Congrats again on a great Sitka blacktail
dihardhunter
Well-known member
GULP, big boy! Can't wait for the full unraveling of the tale.
dihardhunter
Well-known member
Refresh link, refresh link, refresh link, and so my day goes...
Day 2
The alarm on my cell phone went off and I laid in the tent trying to figure out how I could have slept through the all-night racket of that Sandhill Crane who was still calling to the sky. Sheesh fellow, give it a break. I unzipped my Hilleberg and stuck my head out. The ridges were socked in. Damn it. I rested my head for another half hour until I heard Jim and Tyler rustling about. My body was asking for more time off, but having already lost one day of a five-day hunt and given the short window of decent weather rest would have to wait; we would grab a quick breakfast and scale the ridges.
Not sure how many meals of Mountain House Granola and Blueberries I eat in a year, but it is too many. Tyler was half awake, or half asleep, and prepared a meal of spaghetti and meat sauce for breakfast, thinking it was biscuits and gravy. Evidently he was as tired as I was.
In the time it took for us to eat and organize packs for a full day on the ridges, the wind started to move the fog and clouds. It made for some incredible video. One clip of a buck sky lined as fog moves rapidly behind him will surely be the open to the show. Now, with the slopes becoming visible, reddish-brown dots stood out in clear view against the bright green vegetation.
Note here, what looks like lush green meadows are really slopes of some sort of impenetrable berry bush grove about eight feet tall, mixed in with salmon berry bushes, Devil’s Clubs, and some sort of other jungle-type brush that is harder to walk through than what we traversed to get here, but fortunately is not full of blown-down cedar and spruce. The vegetation deceives you; sucks you in, then leaves you cussing for having chosen the route that looked so inviting from down below.
Jim knew the area and the least difficult, though still not easy, way to get to the top of these ridges way above us. He cautioned that trying to come up from below was fraught with problems. As much climbing and navigating as it would be, his experience showed it was far easier to approach them from above. With that, we headed south, following a path Jim knew from his time doing geology work here.
A note about some of the limestone formations that cause further complications. I did not know that limestone erodes far faster than other rock formations as a result of the acidity of the run-off. I don’t think we have good photos of it, but these limestone ridges are filled with crevasses that might only be four to eight feet wide, but are twenty to fifty feet deep. These are a result of run-off eroding away the limestone over millions of years. You often start up a face thinking you have found a way to reach the crest, only to be sent backtracking because of one of these deep crevasses. Jim called these formations “karst.” Not sure I spelled it right, but he told me it is a common term in the world of geology to indicate a rock formation that has eroded due to effects of water and exposure.
It took three hours to gain the south shoulder of the ridges. On our way, we bumped over a dozen bucks, none of which got Jim very excited. Plenty of them looked like shooting material to an unexperienced Blacktail hunter like me. These deer obviously had not seen many humans. The forkies stood to pose for photos and video, as if they had read the script. The older bucks were a bit more cautious of these upright figures intruding on their grounds.
To gain this elevation, merely two-thirds of the ridge, was worth the hike. The view, the deer, the geography and topography was unlike anything I had seen in my travels. The more we climbed, the more deer we could see in distant drainages. A target-rich environment, if ever there was one.
Jim suggested we get to his favorite glassing knob a couple hundred feet higher. From there, we could see in most directions and have a good command of what options were available. Sounded good to me. I was snapping photos as often as I could, trying to understand why deer were so concentrated in some areas and almost void in others. Jim explained how the geology caused the deer to move from one area to another, due to how rock formation provided for slower/faster drainage and thus some slopes stayed moist longer while other drained faster. Even in this wet climate, some drainages were rather dried and brown, while others were green and lush. When a geologist explains why that is, it seems obvious, but until given such information it is merely a random mystery.
With that newly acquired knowledge, it was easy to start looking where the deer would be; green lush areas still sprouting highly nutritious forbs. Upon reaching the chosen spotting knob, that is where I focused my attention. In short order, we had a couple dozen bucks marked and proceeded with closer examination through the spotter.
One thing you quickly realize, at least in this part of the SE Islands, is that a typical 4X4 buck is a rarity. Most the older bucks are 3X4, even some nasty 2X4 bucks, one of which was going to get shot if I could have got to him before he crossed over to No-Man’s land. Lots and lots of forkies and 2X3 or 3X3. We did not work this hard to shoot one of the many abundant bucks that littered our view. Rather, we agreed we would look to find some old bucks. For Jim, that was nice 4X4. For me, that meant ugly is preferred, big is secondary; kind of like when I hunt pronghorn.
I should have kept an official count of how many bucks we saw from this ridge. Would have been interesting, just to know for sure. Suffice to say, it was a lot. Some were too far off to fully appreciate or discount. Given how many were within our stalking distance of the day, no need to worry about those far-off dots.
One buck had been feeding in a tight canyon on your way up. When we had glassed him from below, he looked good, but at that steep angle we had from below, it was hard to tell. Now, we were slightly above him. Jim moved over to a spot that allowed him a good view down the drainage where we had last seen the buck. When he whistled us over, it was obvious he had found something he wanted to investigate further.
Photos of the landscape.
The alarm on my cell phone went off and I laid in the tent trying to figure out how I could have slept through the all-night racket of that Sandhill Crane who was still calling to the sky. Sheesh fellow, give it a break. I unzipped my Hilleberg and stuck my head out. The ridges were socked in. Damn it. I rested my head for another half hour until I heard Jim and Tyler rustling about. My body was asking for more time off, but having already lost one day of a five-day hunt and given the short window of decent weather rest would have to wait; we would grab a quick breakfast and scale the ridges.
Not sure how many meals of Mountain House Granola and Blueberries I eat in a year, but it is too many. Tyler was half awake, or half asleep, and prepared a meal of spaghetti and meat sauce for breakfast, thinking it was biscuits and gravy. Evidently he was as tired as I was.
In the time it took for us to eat and organize packs for a full day on the ridges, the wind started to move the fog and clouds. It made for some incredible video. One clip of a buck sky lined as fog moves rapidly behind him will surely be the open to the show. Now, with the slopes becoming visible, reddish-brown dots stood out in clear view against the bright green vegetation.
Note here, what looks like lush green meadows are really slopes of some sort of impenetrable berry bush grove about eight feet tall, mixed in with salmon berry bushes, Devil’s Clubs, and some sort of other jungle-type brush that is harder to walk through than what we traversed to get here, but fortunately is not full of blown-down cedar and spruce. The vegetation deceives you; sucks you in, then leaves you cussing for having chosen the route that looked so inviting from down below.
Jim knew the area and the least difficult, though still not easy, way to get to the top of these ridges way above us. He cautioned that trying to come up from below was fraught with problems. As much climbing and navigating as it would be, his experience showed it was far easier to approach them from above. With that, we headed south, following a path Jim knew from his time doing geology work here.
A note about some of the limestone formations that cause further complications. I did not know that limestone erodes far faster than other rock formations as a result of the acidity of the run-off. I don’t think we have good photos of it, but these limestone ridges are filled with crevasses that might only be four to eight feet wide, but are twenty to fifty feet deep. These are a result of run-off eroding away the limestone over millions of years. You often start up a face thinking you have found a way to reach the crest, only to be sent backtracking because of one of these deep crevasses. Jim called these formations “karst.” Not sure I spelled it right, but he told me it is a common term in the world of geology to indicate a rock formation that has eroded due to effects of water and exposure.
It took three hours to gain the south shoulder of the ridges. On our way, we bumped over a dozen bucks, none of which got Jim very excited. Plenty of them looked like shooting material to an unexperienced Blacktail hunter like me. These deer obviously had not seen many humans. The forkies stood to pose for photos and video, as if they had read the script. The older bucks were a bit more cautious of these upright figures intruding on their grounds.
To gain this elevation, merely two-thirds of the ridge, was worth the hike. The view, the deer, the geography and topography was unlike anything I had seen in my travels. The more we climbed, the more deer we could see in distant drainages. A target-rich environment, if ever there was one.
Jim suggested we get to his favorite glassing knob a couple hundred feet higher. From there, we could see in most directions and have a good command of what options were available. Sounded good to me. I was snapping photos as often as I could, trying to understand why deer were so concentrated in some areas and almost void in others. Jim explained how the geology caused the deer to move from one area to another, due to how rock formation provided for slower/faster drainage and thus some slopes stayed moist longer while other drained faster. Even in this wet climate, some drainages were rather dried and brown, while others were green and lush. When a geologist explains why that is, it seems obvious, but until given such information it is merely a random mystery.
With that newly acquired knowledge, it was easy to start looking where the deer would be; green lush areas still sprouting highly nutritious forbs. Upon reaching the chosen spotting knob, that is where I focused my attention. In short order, we had a couple dozen bucks marked and proceeded with closer examination through the spotter.
One thing you quickly realize, at least in this part of the SE Islands, is that a typical 4X4 buck is a rarity. Most the older bucks are 3X4, even some nasty 2X4 bucks, one of which was going to get shot if I could have got to him before he crossed over to No-Man’s land. Lots and lots of forkies and 2X3 or 3X3. We did not work this hard to shoot one of the many abundant bucks that littered our view. Rather, we agreed we would look to find some old bucks. For Jim, that was nice 4X4. For me, that meant ugly is preferred, big is secondary; kind of like when I hunt pronghorn.
I should have kept an official count of how many bucks we saw from this ridge. Would have been interesting, just to know for sure. Suffice to say, it was a lot. Some were too far off to fully appreciate or discount. Given how many were within our stalking distance of the day, no need to worry about those far-off dots.
One buck had been feeding in a tight canyon on your way up. When we had glassed him from below, he looked good, but at that steep angle we had from below, it was hard to tell. Now, we were slightly above him. Jim moved over to a spot that allowed him a good view down the drainage where we had last seen the buck. When he whistled us over, it was obvious he had found something he wanted to investigate further.
Photos of the landscape.
idahofishnhunt
Well-known member
Nice looking buck, congrats.
e300winmag
Member
- Joined
- Feb 4, 2013
- Messages
- 318
awesome bucks!!! turning out to be a great story. What beautiful country
