T Bone
Well-known member
Sept 9th.
Leave Boise for Seattle midday. Seattle to Anchorage. Anchorage to Kotzebue. Raining and blowing, temps in the low 50’s. Walking from the plane to the terminal I turn to take a picture of the plane and TSA grabs me and informs me to get inside NOW. The terminal is a 20x40 room crowded with eager hunters wading through stacks of duffels and rifle/bow cases. We are to overnight in Kotz at a motel about 6 blocks from the airport. We wait for a taxi, while waiting we are solicited by a prostitute that couldn’t have been over 15 years old. Tough place to grow up. The motel is ok. Smelly but mostly clean. We enjoy a dinner at a restaurant.
Sept 10th.
Warm and clear.
Flight on Bering Air from Kotzebue to Noatak Village. It’s a 6 seat Cessna. We are met at the gravel runway by Ben our Eskimo transporter. We pile our gear on a small trailer and we hop on top while he pulls us on an atv. Noatak is a mishmash of small homes, vehicle and boat carcasses, and antlers. The 4 of us hunters divide into 2 boats and start the upriver trek of 3 hours. We watch 4 caribou cross in front of us as an Eskimo family motors into them and wildly empties 2 clips of 9mm. It’s all business with them. Sport isn’t part of it.
We arrive at camp and get set up. We are in a plywood sided bunkhouse with a stove. A separate wall tent for storing gear and foot. Propane stove for cooking.
Sept 11th.
Warm and clear skies.
With hi hopes we head out. Warren and I head to a ridge and glass the river bottom. He spots a lone bull caribou crossing below us about 500 yards. Medium bull.
A few hours later I spot moose antlers flash. He is bedded about ¾ mile away right in a willow flat between 2 rivers. We get landmarks, and scheme a scheme to get in close and call him in.
Once we get down in the willow bottom we discover there are steams rivers and bogs all over the place and we set up and call….nothing…..move and call. Nothing. I think we overshot the stalk and ended up walking right by him.
At camp, Jason and Brent report seeing no moose but quite a few caribou, all bull bachelor herds.
Sept 12th.
Raining and wet
We call for moose in the am with no luck. We motor upriver and see 4 bull caribou crossing, one is a shooter. 3 of us bail and scramble to intersect their line of travel. I stay with boat, the hunting will only get better according to Ben the Eskimo.
3 of the 4 bull caribou go down. One is nice. The other 2 respectable. We spend the rest of the day packing the meat, cape and antlers out.
Sept 13th.
Raining and wet
See a wolf at daybreak about 350 yards out. I dink around too long watching him and when I pull up the rifle he goes back into brush.
Call for moose all day. Nothing
Sept 14th.
Raining and wet
Sit on ridge glassing see 3 moose in far distance on tundra. Small Bullwinkle bull and cow and calf. Acting rutty. Bachelor group of 9 caribou bulls cross river about ½ mile away, I run but can’t get there in time.
Evening hunt finds Warren and I calling for moose in the river bottoms. Warren sees moose antlers before I do. Moose comes in easy. I am watching through binos and I believe he’s barely legal, but leave it to Warren’s choice. His 300 win booms and moose drops. Then his head pops up. Another shot, moose down. We wade river and moose’s head is up again. Another shot he stays down this time. We get the tape on him and then Warren whoops. 53 inch bull. Nice brow tines. The camp is stoked. 1st 2 shots of 180 partition hit shoulder quartering on but didn’t appear to have penetrated into rib cage.
Sept 15th.
Raining and wet
Call for moose all day. Nothing.
Sept 16th.
Raining and wet.
Call for moose all day. At dusk we get a response. Tree raking grunting only 80-100 yards out but can’t see him. We hear the hum of the boat (our ride to camp). Ben, our faithful Eskimo boat man can’t see for crap at night so he likes to leave late in morning and pickup at night with a good hour of light remaining……..it was maddening to hear him clanking around. Moose disappears.
Sept 17th.
Warm and clear. The previous night’s close call inspires us to do more moose calling. Turns out this was THE day to be on the tundra for caribou. Caribou moving everywhere. Caribou were taken right from camp. We were oblivious to it while in the brush choked river bottoms.
Sept 18th.
Raining and cold.
I’m getting desperate, I have a caribou and moose tag unused. We sit on the tundra all day and see a big bull moose out on the tundra way out there. At 3 pm we see 4 big bull bou heading our way. They enter river and we watch with horror as an Eskimo boat rounds the corner and herds them neatly into a bunch and pop them in the noggin.
My stomach is not feeling well as I go to sleep.
Sept 19th.
Raining and cold.
I don’t feel well. We have plans of going after the big tundra bull moose we saw the previous day. We start trudging through the river bottoms to get to him. I then develop the most violent case of the Hershey squirts I’ve ever had. I’m dizzy, taking stops every 5-10 minutes to do my atomic butt pee. We start to get to tundra. This tundra is the kind that is a mass of floating vegetation. We keep trudging and I go to my waist in cold water. Trying to get out of the hole with Brent’s help I was wet all over. We head to some trees and quickly a fire going. I am shivering cold barefoot, with cloths hanging up when another slurry bomb hits. I get her take care of and come back to see mister hipboot on fire. Cabelas should market a less flammable model……
My butt slurries slow down, as I have nothing left to give…..We trudge around the tundra can’t find the moose, but do see a porcupine and a red fox. Then 2 grizz fighting. That was cool to watch.
Its getting towards dark, so we head back through the tundra/swamp river bottoms to catch the boat ride. I’m shivering, cold, wet, achy and my ass was on fire.
I crawl into bed asap to be woken up by outfitter victorious entrance that his two good buddies called in and killed a 71 inch behemoth and a 60 inch from one location. If the rifle would have been in reach I’d of bayoneted him with the barrel. Sore loser fits the description nicely.
Sept 20.
Last day of moose season. I eat breakfast questioning the wisdom of every bite, but it stays in. I hunt the morning solo, but nothing. Outfitter takes us to his honey hole on the last hours of the last day…….(that’s another story for another time). We divide into two groups. Warren and I know how to call, the others don’t. Warren takes Jason, I take Brent. Brent and I have bulls coming in. He hammers a heavy horned 53 incher at 40 yards. He shoots 4 times and shoots it in various locations over the whole body. Even after the shooting 2 other bulls continue to come in raking and grunting. I’m only seconds away from whacking a good one when the wind switches and they scoot. I followed trying to catch up, but no can do. Sun sets on my moose hopes.
We get Brents bull into the boat and the boat is too heavy to plane. 3 of us get out in the raining darkness on a gravel bar. We build a fire and wait. About 2 am we get to camp.
Turns out while we were out on the last night a nice very legal bull moose came right through camp. Pictures were shown as evidence. Nice piece of irony there.
Sept 21.
I still owe outfitter some $. He’s taken a shine to my 338 rum and we trade even. Friggin gun anyhow.
Summary:
Fun hunt altogether. Warren and Brent got nice bull moose. The outfitters 2 friends killed super moose, one an absolute behemoth. Warren, Brent and Jason got nice caribou. I got…….let me think about it…..not a thing.
The feeling coming home from Alaska without pulling a trigger is a bummer. I’m not rich, but I hope to get back someday. When I think that I spent $6k on a sight seeing trip, it makes me ill. If you think I’m a sore loser, I’m ok with that.
I have some reservations about recommending the outfitter(I will go into detail at a later date.)
Lessons learned:
1- Eskimos have huge shits. Ben was seen leaving 2 Hickory farm sausages. Surprised at the lack of a blood trail.
2- I worked too hard for this. I could have parked my butt in camp and tagged out on very nice animals. Save the hard work for lower 48 public land hunts.
3- For moose, nothing more than a 270 or 30-06 is needed. The 270 shot 60 bull dropped on the spot. Everything else required multiple follow-ups.
I’ll provide more details later about my “reservations” after a few communications with my outfitter and share the results here.
Leave Boise for Seattle midday. Seattle to Anchorage. Anchorage to Kotzebue. Raining and blowing, temps in the low 50’s. Walking from the plane to the terminal I turn to take a picture of the plane and TSA grabs me and informs me to get inside NOW. The terminal is a 20x40 room crowded with eager hunters wading through stacks of duffels and rifle/bow cases. We are to overnight in Kotz at a motel about 6 blocks from the airport. We wait for a taxi, while waiting we are solicited by a prostitute that couldn’t have been over 15 years old. Tough place to grow up. The motel is ok. Smelly but mostly clean. We enjoy a dinner at a restaurant.
Sept 10th.
Warm and clear.
Flight on Bering Air from Kotzebue to Noatak Village. It’s a 6 seat Cessna. We are met at the gravel runway by Ben our Eskimo transporter. We pile our gear on a small trailer and we hop on top while he pulls us on an atv. Noatak is a mishmash of small homes, vehicle and boat carcasses, and antlers. The 4 of us hunters divide into 2 boats and start the upriver trek of 3 hours. We watch 4 caribou cross in front of us as an Eskimo family motors into them and wildly empties 2 clips of 9mm. It’s all business with them. Sport isn’t part of it.
We arrive at camp and get set up. We are in a plywood sided bunkhouse with a stove. A separate wall tent for storing gear and foot. Propane stove for cooking.
Sept 11th.
Warm and clear skies.
With hi hopes we head out. Warren and I head to a ridge and glass the river bottom. He spots a lone bull caribou crossing below us about 500 yards. Medium bull.
A few hours later I spot moose antlers flash. He is bedded about ¾ mile away right in a willow flat between 2 rivers. We get landmarks, and scheme a scheme to get in close and call him in.
Once we get down in the willow bottom we discover there are steams rivers and bogs all over the place and we set up and call….nothing…..move and call. Nothing. I think we overshot the stalk and ended up walking right by him.
At camp, Jason and Brent report seeing no moose but quite a few caribou, all bull bachelor herds.
Sept 12th.
Raining and wet
We call for moose in the am with no luck. We motor upriver and see 4 bull caribou crossing, one is a shooter. 3 of us bail and scramble to intersect their line of travel. I stay with boat, the hunting will only get better according to Ben the Eskimo.
3 of the 4 bull caribou go down. One is nice. The other 2 respectable. We spend the rest of the day packing the meat, cape and antlers out.
Sept 13th.
Raining and wet
See a wolf at daybreak about 350 yards out. I dink around too long watching him and when I pull up the rifle he goes back into brush.
Call for moose all day. Nothing
Sept 14th.
Raining and wet
Sit on ridge glassing see 3 moose in far distance on tundra. Small Bullwinkle bull and cow and calf. Acting rutty. Bachelor group of 9 caribou bulls cross river about ½ mile away, I run but can’t get there in time.
Evening hunt finds Warren and I calling for moose in the river bottoms. Warren sees moose antlers before I do. Moose comes in easy. I am watching through binos and I believe he’s barely legal, but leave it to Warren’s choice. His 300 win booms and moose drops. Then his head pops up. Another shot, moose down. We wade river and moose’s head is up again. Another shot he stays down this time. We get the tape on him and then Warren whoops. 53 inch bull. Nice brow tines. The camp is stoked. 1st 2 shots of 180 partition hit shoulder quartering on but didn’t appear to have penetrated into rib cage.
Sept 15th.
Raining and wet
Call for moose all day. Nothing.
Sept 16th.
Raining and wet.
Call for moose all day. At dusk we get a response. Tree raking grunting only 80-100 yards out but can’t see him. We hear the hum of the boat (our ride to camp). Ben, our faithful Eskimo boat man can’t see for crap at night so he likes to leave late in morning and pickup at night with a good hour of light remaining……..it was maddening to hear him clanking around. Moose disappears.
Sept 17th.
Warm and clear. The previous night’s close call inspires us to do more moose calling. Turns out this was THE day to be on the tundra for caribou. Caribou moving everywhere. Caribou were taken right from camp. We were oblivious to it while in the brush choked river bottoms.
Sept 18th.
Raining and cold.
I’m getting desperate, I have a caribou and moose tag unused. We sit on the tundra all day and see a big bull moose out on the tundra way out there. At 3 pm we see 4 big bull bou heading our way. They enter river and we watch with horror as an Eskimo boat rounds the corner and herds them neatly into a bunch and pop them in the noggin.
My stomach is not feeling well as I go to sleep.
Sept 19th.
Raining and cold.
I don’t feel well. We have plans of going after the big tundra bull moose we saw the previous day. We start trudging through the river bottoms to get to him. I then develop the most violent case of the Hershey squirts I’ve ever had. I’m dizzy, taking stops every 5-10 minutes to do my atomic butt pee. We start to get to tundra. This tundra is the kind that is a mass of floating vegetation. We keep trudging and I go to my waist in cold water. Trying to get out of the hole with Brent’s help I was wet all over. We head to some trees and quickly a fire going. I am shivering cold barefoot, with cloths hanging up when another slurry bomb hits. I get her take care of and come back to see mister hipboot on fire. Cabelas should market a less flammable model……
My butt slurries slow down, as I have nothing left to give…..We trudge around the tundra can’t find the moose, but do see a porcupine and a red fox. Then 2 grizz fighting. That was cool to watch.
Its getting towards dark, so we head back through the tundra/swamp river bottoms to catch the boat ride. I’m shivering, cold, wet, achy and my ass was on fire.
I crawl into bed asap to be woken up by outfitter victorious entrance that his two good buddies called in and killed a 71 inch behemoth and a 60 inch from one location. If the rifle would have been in reach I’d of bayoneted him with the barrel. Sore loser fits the description nicely.
Sept 20.
Last day of moose season. I eat breakfast questioning the wisdom of every bite, but it stays in. I hunt the morning solo, but nothing. Outfitter takes us to his honey hole on the last hours of the last day…….(that’s another story for another time). We divide into two groups. Warren and I know how to call, the others don’t. Warren takes Jason, I take Brent. Brent and I have bulls coming in. He hammers a heavy horned 53 incher at 40 yards. He shoots 4 times and shoots it in various locations over the whole body. Even after the shooting 2 other bulls continue to come in raking and grunting. I’m only seconds away from whacking a good one when the wind switches and they scoot. I followed trying to catch up, but no can do. Sun sets on my moose hopes.
We get Brents bull into the boat and the boat is too heavy to plane. 3 of us get out in the raining darkness on a gravel bar. We build a fire and wait. About 2 am we get to camp.
Turns out while we were out on the last night a nice very legal bull moose came right through camp. Pictures were shown as evidence. Nice piece of irony there.
Sept 21.
I still owe outfitter some $. He’s taken a shine to my 338 rum and we trade even. Friggin gun anyhow.
Summary:
Fun hunt altogether. Warren and Brent got nice bull moose. The outfitters 2 friends killed super moose, one an absolute behemoth. Warren, Brent and Jason got nice caribou. I got…….let me think about it…..not a thing.
The feeling coming home from Alaska without pulling a trigger is a bummer. I’m not rich, but I hope to get back someday. When I think that I spent $6k on a sight seeing trip, it makes me ill. If you think I’m a sore loser, I’m ok with that.
I have some reservations about recommending the outfitter(I will go into detail at a later date.)
Lessons learned:
1- Eskimos have huge shits. Ben was seen leaving 2 Hickory farm sausages. Surprised at the lack of a blood trail.
2- I worked too hard for this. I could have parked my butt in camp and tagged out on very nice animals. Save the hard work for lower 48 public land hunts.
3- For moose, nothing more than a 270 or 30-06 is needed. The 270 shot 60 bull dropped on the spot. Everything else required multiple follow-ups.
I’ll provide more details later about my “reservations” after a few communications with my outfitter and share the results here.
