Caribou Gear

A Family Hunts the North End of POW 2020

AndyPOW

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Jul 9, 2020
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178
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Alaska
Two of my boys are old enough, and in my mind responsible enough, to carry rifles and hunt this year. Our federal subsistence deer season starts this Friday, July 24th, and runs through January 31, even though we personally call a truce by mid-December. Season limit is four bucks and a doe. The doe we do not choose to shoot. Bear season starts September 1 and goes until they hole up in mid-late November. We have been scouting a new area with great success, and today was no different. The area is a big nutrient trap, and looks more like tall grass prairie than Southeast Alaska; the grass is literally over the backs of the deer. We looked across the "meadow" and there 6-700 yards away was a very large bear feeding on grass roots, biding his time until the salmon come into the creek that bisects the meadow. I had four of the boys along, and when I pointed the bear out to them and said the bear was "as big as a door" son Joe opined that the boar was more akin to a barn door. We strategized how we would stalk if the season was open, and then headed back to the truck.

There is a large complex of such meadows which requires a 30 minute boat ride from our house, then a bit of a portage and paddle across a tidal lake in the square stern canoe we will tow, which is our destination for Friday. Heck, what can I say? Living a two mile boat ride away from the town dock in a small community of less than 100 year-round residents on the third largest island in the U.S.A., and I still need to find a place where others don't go. I've always been driven to go just that extra distance to get away from the maddening crowd, and I have 17 million acres of public land to choose from.

The first week in September I lead the 7th-12th graders (all 6 of them) at the Whale Pass School on a subsistence trip which I've described elsewhere. Parents join us as they are able, and we spend very enjoyable days on the ocean, in the woods, and around the nightly campfires.

Later in late September we will run 50 miles from the house to an uninhabited island north of us in our 22' C-Dory to hunt moose. Big Fin knows of where I speak. This is an OTC tag, so all three of us will have them.
 
That sounds pretty exciting. I never got that far north when I was there last spring, only got as far as Coffman Cove. You definitely have a lot of opportunities on that island, even if gas is $5 and a block of cheese is $10! Haha
 
We had a great day on Friday. It was one of the few non-rainy days in SE AK since mid-May. Within 45 minutes of paddling to the back of the tidal lake my 13 y.o. and I were hunting through a mixed woods/muskeg that connected two meadows, and got within 50' of two does. My son practiced getting his scope on them until they bounced to the left and up into the big timber. We walked to where they had been standing, looked right, and saw a bear feeding on berries about 75' away, between us and where my 15 y.o. was paralleling us. After a few minutes here comes said son. . . . and we motion him to get over to us pdq. He tramps across and passes the bear within 50'. That ensures that the bear winds him, and he scoots off. We continue on our hunt plan, and see a third doe as we near the big meadow in front of us. We watch her until she walks off. Shortly afterwards we meet up again, make our way down the meadow to a nice log for lunch in the sun, a mile of meadow stretching before us. Lunch finished, the three of us walk down the woods edge, round the point of timber and back towards the tidal lake along a tidal creek with meadow on both sides. Deer and bear sign was everywhere, and my older son reports a second bear when we meet up after taking opposite sides of an island of trees. After causing two whooping cranes to leave the premises we work down a narrow lane of grass between an island of trees and the main timber. We get to the other end of the island, and on our left two does feeding. We skulk to a small clump of trees to watch them. Both boys practice getting the deer in their scopes with my shooting stick. Soon a third doe appears to our right. She feeds until we decide to move on back to the canoe. The currents in the lake are strong as high tide is 90 minutes away by the time we reach the canoe. We paddle to check that the boat is at anchor where we had left it, then take a tidal creek up another meadow. I am using a 6' maple paddle I made years ago when working in the canoe shops in Atkinson, ME. It allows me to paddle standing up, and I get a good view over the grass. . . . no deer in this meadow, but a lovely experience non-the-less as I paddle, with my two boys on the alert, in quiet of the late afternoon. I make the executive decision that it is time to head home, and actually get there on time instead of worrying my wife with a late arrival as is my usual. Before we leave the lake proper I see a doe on the shore dead ahead. We strategize how we would stalk if she had been a buck, then paddle with the slow current over what had been the biggest falls we had portaged up in the morning. On the way to the boat we see our third bear eating beach grass between two small islands. There is a last doe standing on the beach right on the big water as we slowly steam out with the Garmin indicating 22' of water below us where it had been 5' of water coming in 10 hours before. The boys devour the last of the cheese and salmon salad as the boat runs against a 4 knot current all the way to North Entrance. Eight does, three bears, two whooping cranes, practicing lining, poling and paddling a canoe, and exploring new country with my boys. Hell of a day.
 
A lot has happened since my last post, including an aborted moose hunt due to . . well that is another story.Joe's Deer.JPGAndy's Deer.JPGHowever, this morning's start was a little later than I wanted since my son, Joe, had to milk before we left. After our scrambled eggs and bacon (our eggs, our homegrown and cured bacon), we suit up, pull the boat in, and get to the dock at 6:45. It is an hour's drive to where we park, and I console myself with "who wants to walk through the reprod in the dark anyway?". We fight our way through the brush of the overgrown road in the gloom. We step off to begin our descent into . . . and we hear the deer that runs off to our left. I urge Joe to go ahead a few feet so he can get to the best of the limited visibility. I blow the call, but the deer is having none of it. We cut back along the hill to the right for a few minutes to regain our original flight plan. I look up from managing my footing just in time to see antlers, and the buck attached to them, step downhill out of sight behind brush and a huge stump. I slide to the ground, and Joe follows suit. I blow the call. . . and the buck steps out from behind the stump/brush at 40' and looks right at us. Joe has the presence of mind to ask "should I shoot"? I answer "yes, SHOOT!" Bam. . . Joe rolls the buck over just as quick as that. Never took a step. By the time we pull him to the truck and get back in the woods it is 9:30. We split up to be about 150 yds. apart, and I go to a muskeg I have been wanting to try. As I approach through the timber and blueberry bushes I take the opportunity to sit and listen, 50 yards from edge. I blow the call once, but mostly go quiet and still. As soon as I step out of the timber into the cedars and bull pines that rim the muskeg there are rubs all around me. I slowly walk up the edge until I find a place to sit 5' up the bank on the edge of the timber. I take my pack off. . . . have a drink of water. . . .admire the muskeg. . . .sit down and call 2-3 times then stay quiet. Less than 10 minutes later there is a deer blowing out of sight where it has crossed my trail coming into the muskeg. The blows get a little farther away. . . and I blow the call again. . . a doe comes walking back up the edge mostly hidden in the bull pine and cedars. She steps through the only opening, maybe 18" wide, and disappears. I see brown sliding along, following her. . . .and glimpse a big beam, before the buck disappears. I put the rifle on the opening, and in a few seconds the buck comes through. . .easy to see the rack for a brief moment, then it disappears and the chest shows in the opening. . . Bam. . . .nothing to see after the shot. I cycle a round in and wait a minute. . . then walk slowly towards the opening. . the doe is looking at me through another opening. . . then swings to look towards the buck. . . which I take to be a good sign. . . I walk a little more, maybe 60' total, and there he is. . . switched ends, and deader than snot. The clouds that had soaked us earlier have drifted off. . . .and the sun shines on the other side of the muskeg. There are no sounds. . . no ravens, no wind. . . no jays. Silence, and the buck on the ground ahead of me. I take my time parting the buck up. . .and ponder how alive he was just a short time before. The pack is so heavy I can barely get it on my back. Two thoughts run through my mind. . . "how do those elk guys do it?", and "God, please give me the wisdom to never shoot one this big if I'm in here by myself". I slowly make my way back to our pre-agreed meeting point. Joe is there ahead of me. We share the load, and it takes 2.5 hours to get back up to the truck. Damn near took all I had to make that climb. I'm 60 this coming February. . . .How many more of these days do I have in me? This one is special, I'll replay those bucks, and how well Joe did. . . for a long time to come. Both deer are 3x4s with eye guards. Not many days are this good. My tired old I-phone 6 had just enough power to take the photo of my deer. . . no chance for a better pic. But I won't forget.
 
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The account of the aborted moose hunt:

I had taken Thursday, the 8th of October as a personal day. Our school district operates on a four day schedule to allow for subsistence activities (hunting, fishing, berry picking), which meant I already had Friday off. Joe and I are going Moose hunting. We had packed the C-Dory on the 7th, and as soon as school was done we left the dock at 3:30 pm. Two and a half hours and 55 miles later at dusk we get to the entrance of Salt Lagoon on Kuiu Island. And wouldn't you know it. . . someone is anchored there ahead of us. No time to go anywhere else before dark, so we set the hook and setup camp on the boat. Two guys come out of the woods and get into their inflatable a short time later. They are from Craig, and good guys. They had been there for 5 days and not seen a moose. The next morning we have a good breakfast, break down camp, and cruise across the mouth of Rocky Pass to beach hunt the big bay on the other side (Kupreanof Island). We see a sow with cubs, and little else. There is a big storm coming the next day (Friday), and I'm feeling itchy that I don't have a good anchorage for the night. They are few and far between on the southeast side of Kuiu. . . everything is open to the southerlies. I finally say "enough of this" and we head across Sumner Strait towards POW with the wind increasing. We slog across Sumner Strait until we get some lee right up against POW by Point Baker. We cruise into Red Bay about 3pm, and setup camp at the far end of the bay. We are towing the square stern canoe, as the plan had been to go up into Salt Lagoon in it, then hunt the ridges and muskegs at the far end. We hop in the canoe and cruise the shoreline hoping for a deer. We see thousands of geese and ducks and a couple of bears. We get back to the C-Dory at 5:30. While I'm getting ready to cook dinner Joe checks the Garmin Inreach for messages from Astrid (Xmas present from Corinne's boyfriend). She has left a message saying she has had to take David, age 13, to the health clinic in Klawock, a 70 mile trip, for severe abdominal pain, and she has dropped the other 3 boys off at a friend's house in WP. I ponder the worsening weather, and the fact that it is 90 minutes to the dock in Whale Pass, and there is an hour of light left. Then I tell Joe we are getting gone PDQ. We break camp, pull anchor, and get fricking going. It a little bumpy coming around the northeast corner of POW, then flat calm to Exchange Cove, and darker than 7' up a bull's ass by then. We get past Exchange, with 15 miles to go to North Entrance, and we start getting hammered with waves from the port side. I have to slow down to 12 mph, and hope the beating doesn't cause the Garmin to go off. . . which it has done. Blacker then pitch, but I can see the 5' waves rolling past to starboard from the light of the Garmin. All the time hoping the canoe we are towing back there in the dark doesn't swamp. It doesn't, and we get to the dock at 7:30 pm. Oily calm there. . .We get the boys and are back to the house at 8pm. By then Astrid has gotten too Klawock. They have to sedate David due to pain, and have IVs in both arms. A scan shows that several feet of intestine has dropped through his abdominal wall into his scrotum. Plus he has appendicitis. They call for the Guardian flight from Juneau to fly to Klawock in order to get David Med-Evaced to Ketchikan for emergency surgery. The plane gets to Klawock at 10:30pm, and David is at the airport in KTN by 11 pm. The ferry driver has been woken up, and an ambulance has crossed over the Tongass Narrows and is waiting on the runway for them. They get to the hospital and prep David for surgery, the team is ready by 1:30 am Friday morning, and they repair the hernia. They let him rest on Saturday, then remove the appendix on Sunday morning. Astrid is sleeping on a bed beside David in his room, trying to get insulin from Walmart, which requires an Act of God. . . Friends of ours from KTN rally around and take Astrid to dinner, bring David milkshakes etc. . . They can come home on Tuesday, and I meet them at the Klawock Airport at 6pm. . . back to the Whale Pass dock at 7:30, and up the bay in the dark to the house by 8pm. David has recovered from the ordeal. Amazingly, he got a 95 on his spelling test on the Thursday that the pain started, and even drove the boat to the dock with Astrid and the boys on their way to the health clinic on Thursday evening. One tough kid. Now I have to get him out there to shoot his first deer. . . maybe this weekend. Heck, I'll carry his rifle and pack the deer out. . .
 
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Wow! Country living comes with significant benefits, but also serious consequences such as medical emergencies. Glad for your son's good outcome on something that could easily be life threatening in modern times, likely a death sentence 150 years ago.
 
That sounds like a serious ordeal. I'm glad your son was able to get medical care in time and is recovering. Good luck on his deer hunt and I hope you get another chance at a moose.
 
The account of the aborted moose hunt:

I had taken Thursday, the 8th of October as a personal day. Our school district operates on a four day schedule to allow for subsistence activities (hunting, fishing, berry picking), which meant I already had Friday off. Joe and I are going Moose hunting. We had packed the C-Dory on the 7th, and as soon as school was done we left the dock at 3:30 pm. Two and a half hours and 55 miles later at dusk we get to the entrance of Salt Lagoon on Kuiu Island. And wouldn't you know it. . . someone is anchored there ahead of us. No time to go anywhere else before dark, so we set the hook and setup camp on the boat. Two guys come out of the woods and get into their inflatable a short time later. They are from Craig, and good guys. They had been there for 5 days and not seen a moose. The next morning we have a good breakfast, break down camp, and cruise across the mouth of Rocky Pass to beach hunt the big bay on the other side (Kupreanof Island). We see a sow with cubs, and little else. There is a big storm coming the next day (Friday), and I'm feeling itchy that I don't have a good anchorage for the night. They are few and far between on the southeast side of Kuiu. . . everything is open to the southerlies. I finally say "enough of this" and we head across Sumner Strait towards POW with the wind increasing. We slog across Sumner Strait until we get some lee right up against POW by Point Baker. We cruise into Red Bay about 3pm, and setup camp at the far end of the bay. We are towing the square stern canoe, as the plan had been to go up into Salt Lagoon in it, then hunt the ridges and muskegs at the far end. We hop in the canoe and cruise the shoreline hoping for a deer. We see thousands of geese and ducks and a couple of bears. We get back to the C-Dory at 5:30. While I'm getting ready to cook dinner Joe checks the Garmin Inreach for messages from Astrid (Xmas present from Corinne's boyfriend). She has left a message saying she has had to take David, age 13, to the health clinic in Klawock, a 70 mile trip, for severe abdominal pain, and she has dropped the other 3 boys off at a friend's house in WP. I ponder the worsening weather, and the fact that it is 90 minutes to the dock in Whale Pass, and there is an hour of light left. Then I tell Joe we are getting gone PDQ. We break camp, pull anchor, and get fricking going. It a little bumpy coming around the northeast corner of POW, then flat calm to Exchange Cove, and darker than 7' up a bull's ass by then. We get past Exchange, with 15 miles to go to North Entrance, and we start getting hammered with waves from the port side. I have to slow down to 12 mph, and hope the beating doesn't cause the Garmin to go off. . . which it has done. Blacker then pitch, but I can see the 5' waves rolling past to starboard from the light of the Garmin. All the time hoping the canoe we are towing back there in the dark doesn't swamp. It doesn't, and we get to the dock at 7:30 pm. Oily calm there. . .We get the boys and are back to the house at 8pm. By then Astrid has gotten too Klawock. They have to sedate David due to pain, and have IVs in both arms. A scan shows that several feet of intestine has dropped through his abdominal wall into his scrotum. Plus he has appendicitis. They call for the Guardian flight from Juneau to fly to Klawock in order to get David Med-Evaced to Ketchikan for emergency surgery. The plane gets to Klawock at 10:30pm, and David is at the airport in KTN by 11 pm. The ferry driver has been woken up, and an ambulance has crossed over the Tongass Narrows and is waiting on the runway for them. They get to the hospital and prep David for surgery, the team is ready by 1:30 am Friday morning, and they repair the hernia. They let him rest on Saturday, then remove the appendix on Sunday morning. Astrid is sleeping on a bed beside David in his room, trying to get insulin from Walmart, which requires an Act of God. . . Friends of ours from KTN rally around and take Astrid to dinner, bring David milkshakes etc. . . They can come home on Tuesday, and I meet them at the Klawock Airport at 6pm. . . back to the Whale Pass dock at 7:30, and up the bay in the dark to the house by 8pm. David has recovered from the ordeal. Amazingly, he got a 95 on his spelling test on the Thursday that the pain started, and even drove the boat to the dock with Astrid and the boys on their way to the health clinic on Thursday evening. One tough kid. Now I have to get him out there to shoot his first deer. . . maybe this weekend. Heck, I'll carry his rifle and pack the deer out. . .
Wow. Just read this - what a close shave. So very glad everything and everyone is A-OK!
 
The account of the aborted moose hunt:

I had taken Thursday, the 8th of October as a personal day. Our school district operates on a four day schedule to allow for subsistence activities (hunting, fishing, berry picking), which meant I already had Friday off. Joe and I are going Moose hunting. We had packed the C-Dory on the 7th, and as soon as school was done we left the dock at 3:30 pm. Two and a half hours and 55 miles later at dusk we get to the entrance of Salt Lagoon on Kuiu Island. And wouldn't you know it. . . someone is anchored there ahead of us. No time to go anywhere else before dark, so we set the hook and setup camp on the boat. Two guys come out of the woods and get into their inflatable a short time later. They are from Craig, and good guys. They had been there for 5 days and not seen a moose. The next morning we have a good breakfast, break down camp, and cruise across the mouth of Rocky Pass to beach hunt the big bay on the other side (Kupreanof Island). We see a sow with cubs, and little else. There is a big storm coming the next day (Friday), and I'm feeling itchy that I don't have a good anchorage for the night. They are few and far between on the southeast side of Kuiu. . . everything is open to the southerlies. I finally say "enough of this" and we head across Sumner Strait towards POW with the wind increasing. We slog across Sumner Strait until we get some lee right up against POW by Point Baker. We cruise into Red Bay about 3pm, and setup camp at the far end of the bay. We are towing the square stern canoe, as the plan had been to go up into Salt Lagoon in it, then hunt the ridges and muskegs at the far end. We hop in the canoe and cruise the shoreline hoping for a deer. We see thousands of geese and ducks and a couple of bears. We get back to the C-Dory at 5:30. While I'm getting ready to cook dinner Joe checks the Garmin Inreach for messages from Astrid (Xmas present from Corinne's boyfriend). She has left a message saying she has had to take David, age 13, to the health clinic in Klawock, a 70 mile trip, for severe abdominal pain, and she has dropped the other 3 boys off at a friend's house in WP. I ponder the worsening weather, and the fact that it is 90 minutes to the dock in Whale Pass, and there is an hour of light left. Then I tell Joe we are getting gone PDQ. We break camp, pull anchor, and get fricking going. It a little bumpy coming around the northeast corner of POW, then flat calm to Exchange Cove, and darker than 7' up a bull's ass by then. We get past Exchange, with 15 miles to go to North Entrance, and we start getting hammered with waves from the port side. I have to slow down to 12 mph, and hope the beating doesn't cause the Garmin to go off. . . which it has done. Blacker then pitch, but I can see the 5' waves rolling past to starboard from the light of the Garmin. All the time hoping the canoe we are towing back there in the dark doesn't swamp. It doesn't, and we get to the dock at 7:30 pm. Oily calm there. . .We get the boys and are back to the house at 8pm. By then Astrid has gotten too Klawock. They have to sedate David due to pain, and have IVs in both arms. A scan shows that several feet of intestine has dropped through his abdominal wall into his scrotum. Plus he has appendicitis. They call for the Guardian flight from Juneau to fly to Klawock in order to get David Med-Evaced to Ketchikan for emergency surgery. The plane gets to Klawock at 10:30pm, and David is at the airport in KTN by 11 pm. The ferry driver has been woken up, and an ambulance has crossed over the Tongass Narrows and is waiting on the runway for them. They get to the hospital and prep David for surgery, the team is ready by 1:30 am Friday morning, and they repair the hernia. They let him rest on Saturday, then remove the appendix on Sunday morning. Astrid is sleeping on a bed beside David in his room, trying to get insulin from Walmart, which requires an Act of God. . . Friends of ours from KTN rally around and take Astrid to dinner, bring David milkshakes etc. . . They can come home on Tuesday, and I meet them at the Klawock Airport at 6pm. . . back to the Whale Pass dock at 7:30, and up the bay in the dark to the house by 8pm. David has recovered from the ordeal. Amazingly, he got a 95 on his spelling test on the Thursday that the pain started, and even drove the boat to the dock with Astrid and the boys on their way to the health clinic on Thursday evening. One tough kid. Now I have to get him out there to shoot his first deer. . . maybe this weekend. Heck, I'll carry his rifle and pack the deer out. . .
Great write up Andy. Though not a young as David when I had mine, I can vouch for the pain of a strangulated intestine inguinal hernia. I was about 30 when I had mine. It's the only time I've ever screamed from pain. Even kidney stones were not that bad. The surgeon told me I was lucky to be alive. I can't imagine the stress of this happening on POW.
 
Our first hunt of the year started with a drive up to the north end of the island. We camped up a dead-end road at the base of an unnamed mountain. Camp went up quickly, and we spent the two hours before dinner time to walk a road that wound among some muskegs. We did see a doe and a fawn at a distance. The alarm went off at 4am, and I made breakfast and coffee while my son, David, snoozed in his sleeping bag. During breakfast two does walked up the road to within 50' of us, then slowly retraced their steps.

Our packs were on our backs by 5am, and we started the ascent up the only possible route by paralleling a creek that plunged down the mountain. Game trails through the wet devils club and blueberry, while traversing the slope made for slow going. In about an hour we broke into the first pocket muskeg. Immediately to our left were two does. The best way forward and upward was through them. . . and they skipped off. Into the next stretch of timber, and soon we see a third doe to our right. She follows us for a little while, then goes about her business. Up, up, and up. . . .legs burning, wind pretty good, soaked from sweat trapped in the rain gear. An hour later, about 7am we come up out of the timber. We take a breather, shed the rain coats, and sip some water. The top is typical alpine; higher narrow strips of trees and shrubs interspersed with lower, wider strips of open ground all running the direction the glaciers made them.

Within minutes we see another curious doe who snorts and bounces off, but then works back and stares at us from 75'. It is obvious from the tracks running every which way that the mountain top is being heavily used by deer. We carefully work our way southeast with the idea of going the half mile to the mountain's highest point. . . .a rounded knob that from the looks of Google Earth to be the best hunting ground.

Within minutes we see a deer not 50 yards away, standing in the wide open. . . except for the head, which is completely obscured by a low-hanging branch. I urge David to kneel to see if that allows him to see if it is a buck or a doe. Now, David is completely deaf in his left ear, and has a 50% hearing loss in his right ear. . .and he has forgotten his hearing aids in camp. Such is life. . .David goes down on both knees. . . and struggles to steady his rifle. Then he realizes his scope is fogged. My whisperings become a bit louder. . . and David clears his scope enough to make out it is a buck, and starts to adjust his shooting stick. While I demonstrate how to kneel to use his left knee as a rest the buck walks out sight.

We stand up and a very respectable buck, 3x3 or better, walks from right to left into the open ground just vacated by the first buck! This guy gets wise before David can get set up with his shooting stick. . .and goes into the brush and down into what turns out to be a deep ravine. As we move forward to see if we can see either of the bucks there is a third buck standing where the 3x3 had walked from! This time David smoothly does what needs to be done. . . and one shot from his Tikka .308 seals the deal! First deer, camping trip, and up in the alpine!

He has butchered plenty of animals at home, and he takes care of his animal in good time. The hike down takes three hours, and seems worse than the hike up! The heavy packs sure helped though!DavidCamp.JPGDavidDeer1.JPGDavidDeer2.JPG
 
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I have enjoyed following along with this.
I love seeing the sons with their first kills, and you helping, being a part of the mentorship, etc. That is why we as dad's love hunting. We were given an appreciation of hunting and the outdoors by those before us, and we are passing it along.
 
All that low growth in the pics is called deer cabbage, and is a major summer food up in the alpine. When you are in places that look like those in the pics you are in the right place!
 
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