Elk Escapades of Etolin Island

[icb12]

Just very
recently back from the island where I assisted one of my very best friends in the world in harvesting a monster roosevelt.
Couple teasers for now. Full report to be posted when I get back to los anchorage.

Enjoy. I'll post up a LOT more come SAT night, Sun Morn. :hump:

 

[----]

Wow, that's an awesome looking bull.

 

[icb12]

Randy: Thank you.

BTW: I was going to mention. I green scored him, but I flat out did not believe the tape. So I'm going to wait a week or so until we can get ahold of a guy in Thorne bay who can score it for sure. But until then...

Any guesses????

 

[noharleyyet]

Cool looking elk and place, congrats on a rare assist opportunity.

 

[Dinkshooter]

I'll WAG 325 with the extras.

 

[TheTone]

Great looking bull, looking forward to the full report. I need a roosevelt someday...

 

[choc dogs]

wow..very saturated colors, what a pretty shot.

 

[----]

That really is an awesome hero shot, sans your buddy's hat

It looks like he's got some extra going on on the end of that right beam we can't see, but I think Dink's close. I'll go 330.

 

[Bambistew]

That's a heck of a bull!

 

[Oak]

That's a huge bull. Any bear problems?

 

[Calvin]

That hunt is one of the toughest I know of, in some of worst terrain you can imagine. A huge accomplishment. I'm in awe.

 

[ashersdad]

That's a great looking bull. Can't wait to hear the story.

 

[elk_hunter]

Holy smokes! Awesome bull indeed! Congrats to you guys!

 

[icb12]

I guess it's time:

As preface to this novella...
Though this trip was classically successful in that we capitalized on our opportunity to take a very nice animal, I consider the greater success spending over a week with people I enjoy being with, doing something I enjoy doing.
I drew DE323, the late Season Etolin Island hunt this year. However, my very good friend, and his mom and dad, all drew DE321, the early season hunt that goes from Oct 1-Oct 15. I have always for as long as I could remember regarded them as my second family, and for their part they have always treated me as if I was family. Knowing several things, for one, the odds of getting a bull are better in the first season, and the weather is better. Also, 3 shooters is better than 1. I gave up my 323 tag, to go hunting with family.

Wed 29th
I work a fulltime graveyard shift and go to school fulltime with 18 credits so a week and a half off was NOT easy to pull, but I managed. I left Anchorage heading home to Ketchikan for the first time in almost a year. I wish I could say the stress of work and academia faded away as i took off, but it didn't. Mostly I just passed out. I woke up long enough to order a lil' mini bottle of crown with an amber back, and then passed out again waking up in Sitka. A short flight later, I was home in Ketchikan.

Spent the day with my mom, had lunch, etc. I stayed classy, and had a pulled pork sandwich and a budweiser Checked in With the second family, picked up some things we still needed, and checked and rechecked my pack and weights etc etc.

Thur 30th
The weather broke thank goodness, and we got on our plane to Etolin. We flew with Pacific Airways, whom we all know pretty well. I would have preferred flying with Misty Fjords (Doyon) or Ryan McCues business, but oh well. Saw lots of neat stuff from the air, par for the course in SE. Landed on our little unnamed lake and set up our camp. We used a big six man Cabelas tent, which worked.. OK.. not great, but again, acceptable. Made big tarp room for a kitchen and set up the action packer and coolers. By the time it was all said and done it was dark and we settled in for some Dirty Rice and Shrimp.

\

 

[icb12]

Thursday Continued

Friday the First (opening day):
Day started off great, sunshine and blue skies. I had a REALLY good feeling about today. I was up first and snapped some photos of camp and such. Had some breakfast and cut my pack down to fighting weight.

 

[icb12]

Friday:

After breakfast we ambled on up the hill to see what we can see. As a note, Etolin is STEEP. The gps reads a 1/4 mile from camp pretty much everywhere on the ridge behind camp. Hiking a quarter mile means you've gone up 1700'. We get to the top and glass our side of the hill for a while, and then meander on over to the opposite side. There we sit and glass and formulate a game plan. Eat a little trail mix, a mini snickers, glass some more. There is elk sign everywhere! They absolutely tear up the hill side. This would be my very first time ever elk hunting and I was impressed with the destruction they bring. Beds and trails weaving in an out of the timber all over the alpine. Good news. I decide it's best to keep working our way south, working into the stiff breeze blowing. I can glass all behind me and do so as we sidehill our way over. I was keeping a wary eye, i didn't want to miss anything.
up top:

(that ridge in the distance ^ is what we were working towards)

We eventually made it to our goal, and sat down again so D could remove his rainpants. It's flat out hot for October, and the wind is right in our faces. Around the corner looks STEEP, and we decide to go see just how steep is steep. We walk barely fifty yards when I stop. I had no good reason to stop, I didn't sense anything, I didn't see anything, no reason at all. But I did, and D says "COW!". Oh shit. Now I see them, I practically walked right into this whole herd of elk. I start snapping photos like it's going out of style.

 

[icb12]

Soon this spike steps out, and D whispers " do I shoot him".
Good lord I can't even describe how many things are running through my head right now.
I know for a fact we are running out of good weather, I know for a fact that ANY bull is a good bull on this hunt. I know we are 3 miles from camp. I know these cows have us pegged, the only thing saving us is the wind in our face. I also know that I didn't come here for a spike, and I know that with this many cows, there is NO way this little dink his the head honcho.

So we drop our packs and I tell D to quietly back up and scoot straight up the hill, we are going to come over the top and see what else is bedded down around the corner. We go Straight up and find this little gap between two big rocks that I can barely squeeze through. I remember telling D to get ready, when this gap ends, we are going to be right on top of this whole herd. I took one more step and big poppa lets out a god awful wheezing high pitched grunting noise right in front of me. The big bull must have been bedded down way up above his harem watching over. What happens next will have me forever addicted to Elk hunting. I boost D up on this rock and clamber up. It was amazing! At his sound, all the cows were on their feet and single filing it out this goat trail off to our left. The big bull was running back and forth to the gap to the end of the line, rounding everybody up, and he was the last one in line.
He was about 5 seconds from dissapearing through the gap when he stopped, stopped just to make sure he had everyone. Right then I yelled something witty like 'Drop that MOTHEREFFER". BOOM. D's '06 spit death. He was standing offhand at 120 yards almost directly above and to the right of the bull. Almost 75 degree slope. The bull went tits up so fast I could have swore he jacked him in the head.
Almost two full seconds of sheer jubilation. The big guy was down, but no second shot was available. Suddenly he's up on his front legs, his back end and head aren't functioning right. Now I know, he's spined. The bull keeps getting up on his front legs, but can't stand, going ass over tea kettle everytime. It's happening so fast, D never has another shot available. All we can do is watch and let our stomachs sink as the bull makes it to the one gap in the trees going straight DOWN the hill.

The bull is Dead, no doubt. Sheer guts and adrenaline and will power to live got him that far, but there is not one doubt in my mind that NOTHING could survive a rolling tumbling falling slide down that hill. We go back down and collect our things and try to see where he went.

Gravity being what it is, and the topography being what it was, the bull went about 1000' down the hill. The only thing that stopped him from going all the way to the bottom of the mountain, was that he got caught in a tight spot in this creek bed he was sliding down, and got jammed in there like a wine cork. He was in there tight. Rack bent back puncturing his left side, the drivers side front leg is hung up on some rocks.

We had to dig out a bunch of rocks and dirt. Then we slowly kicked bunched, pulled, sweared and barely slid the big guy down to the next ledge. We had made a big bunch of sod to use as a chock, to keep him from going any farther. Time for some hero shots.

 

[icb12]

Some pics of the hill:

 

[icb12]

Tools of the trade:

 

[icb12]

D went back up the hill to get his pack, and We started to work. What a pain in the ass. Super steep, NO where to step, no room, no nothing. Took us 3 hours to get it quartered up, bagged and off the ledge to another semi flat spot. Meanwhile, the weather took a turn for the worse, the creek we are in, is now a raging flow,threatening to wash us and the elk off our precarious location. By now it's 4pm and dark is coming in 2 hours. I load up a Rear Quarter in the CC and we take off.

I take no pride in this; but I am not a man easily intimidated by anything mother nature can throw at me. I've goat hunted, sheep hunted, deer, bear, etc. I am not ashamed to admit that coming out of that hole with a heavy pack scared me. It was scary. Period. Nothing to hang onto, the grass is slick, it's steep. We had no choice but to rely on our cork boots and trekking poles and hope to god we didn't make a wrong step.

We would eventually make it to the top of the ridge, and halfway to camp. Here is where we nearly made a fatal mistake. We got in a hurry, we took a peek at D's gps, and saw what looked like an EASIER way down to camp. D had a new gps and wasn't fully learned in all it's functions. Soon it's dark and pissing down rain like a whole herd of cows pissing on the same small flat rock. Somehow we screwed up and got caught in this deep V notch, just a nasty big steep rocky ravine. It's darker than sin. Halfway down shit is getting dangerous and we decide to drop the meat. At this point I pull out my GPS slap in some new batteries. Waypoint the meat and carry on. No point to stopping, too late to go up, no way out left or right, already soaked. We keep moving down by the light of headlamps. At one point we hit this waterfall. And I almost cried. There is no way to possible tell how big it is. I grab some alders and swing out over it shining my headlamp down between my feet trying to see how big the fall is..?
Screw it, I let go and drop about 7 feet down. Hurt like hell landing on rocks with the corks, but we survived. Eventually we had to stop, worn out. We sat in the rain and ate some food. Eventually we hit some timber and hooked left bashing through devils club in the dark, til we made it back to camp. We ate a clif bar or two and climbed into our bags and passed out.

Saturday:
The plan was to go up and start shuttling meat over to where D's dad had found an easy way up to the top of the ridge, then we would have 3 guys for the pack down.
D and I went to the top, then we had to go over and Halfway back down the hill to where we stashed the meat the night before. Load up and go back up to the transfer point. We dropped off the rear quarter and the 40# sack of misc meat and then boot scooted towards the rest of the meat. Now it's 3pm and hesitant of making the same mistake of the night before we load up front quarters and head out. Let me tell you, a front shoulder in a MR CC is nothing. Good lord it felt good, I was flat moving. We made it easily to the transfer side. D's dad had grabbed the rear quarter already and moved back down to camp. I was feeling skippy, so I grabbed the misc meat bag and strapped it on the CC with the front shoulder. NOW its heavy. We made it down to camp that day with no incident.
Sunday:
Sunday was bad. Blowing and raining and flat nasty, in the interest of surviving, neither of us wanted to go down in the hole to the elk when it was sloppy muddy and the grass was super slick with the fog and rain. So we took the day off, even managed a fire in a brief clear moment and dried some clothes.
Monday:
Today was a do or die day. All that meat was coming down, tuesday the report we got on marine weather via sat phone, was going to be BAD. We went up fast as possible and reached the elk by 11am. With the good morning weather, we decided the hill was as dry as it was going to get and started shuttling meat out of the hell hole.. I strapped the rack to the CC to steal a little glory from D :hump:
The hill was sooo steep that I had to strap it on Horns pointing UP. Otherwise there was no way to sidestep and sidehill up. Talk about akward. They swayed this way and that, and I found myself nearly losing my footing multiple times. At the top we had two BIG bags of meat, plus a rear quarter and the rack. I took a big bag and the rack, now strapped on horns down and set out. D grabbed the rear quarter and took off ahead of me. He dropped the quarter off on the far side of the ridge near the transfer point and passed me going back for the last bag. I kept going til I ran into D's Dad and pointed him at the rear quarter behind me. Now with all three of us loaded up with full loads we went down to camp, and got it all there just before dark.

Last Set of Pics: