A season of dinks, mostly!

[SaskHunter]

I haven’t done a season recap in quite some time and quite frankly wasn’t going to until I recently reflected on how this past season has been my hardest, best and most rewarding to date. From Saskatchewan to Wyoming with a stint in the Yukon, this season has been my busiest, most demanding at times, and definitely one to remember until my last day on this earth. I’ve changed my perspective on what success means though there’s still more room for growth!

I’ll start with Saskatchewan Spring bear season. It was a nice way to start my 2024 season. I hunted my usual spot in the forest fringe and had a lot of bears hitting the bait, though no real big boys ever showed up on camera or in person. I made two trips North, one in May and the other in June during the rut. I was very fortunate to do my absolute favourite thing while hunting bears over bait; watch bears do bear things from up close.




The past three seasons, I’ve changed my tactic as my previous spot had been clear-cut. This wasn’t a huge deal as it pushed a lot of the bears to my current location. I used to bowhunt hunt from a treestand but transitioned to hunting them from the ground with a rifle. Man, I never thought bear hunting could get any more exciting than sitting my butt at their level, and boy did I get my money’s worth this season.


I was fortunate to watch tons of bears this past season and shoot a nice 18inch bear. This bear came into the bait following a big colourphased sow. It didn’t take me long to recognize him as that “big black boi” that had started to come into the bait a few days before, and the largest bear at my bait that year. I remember the shot as being a pretty good one, the sow was feeding when he came around to her, and finally gave me my first broadside shot. I was on him the whole time and shot once he extended his front leg facing me. That’s when things got Western! The bear acted pretty much like any hit with a 45/70, it growled and ran away to my W. The sow, took off in a SW trajectory on a well travelled trail that the bears use most of the time. Right away I got up to stretch and start getting my ducks in a row, when suddenly, I could hear the clear sound of a running and panting bear, coming for me, the thick green ground cover obstructing my view. I started shouldering my rifle, when the sow cleared the bushes 10 yds in front of me, coming directly at me. I barely had time to aim as the sow realized I was obstructing her path, and slightly changed her trajectory, passing a mere 3 ft from where I stood, to my left. Feeling her wind and smelling her as she passed me by me. I have to admit, this was by far the most intense moment I’ve had while hunting. I didn’t have time to feel anything really, it all had happened so quickly that I barely had time to process anything other than the feeling of: “quick, get ready to shoot”, which I failed miserably at.

*not to scale

I quickly realized what had happened and that I wasn’t in any danger, other than maybe getting run over by a heavy fur missile had she not seen me in time. Turns out, that the boar crossed the path the sow was on as it ran away and likely pushed the sow away towards me. The bush she cut through is some of the thickest in that spot, with zero visibility and she simply pushed through 50 yards of branches and prickly green stuff in no time. She physically closed the gap between her and myself and the only thought I could muster was “f*ck, get ready” and never even managed to get her in my scope due to the heavy cover and having to go off of sound. 20/20 hindsight, bear mace was definitely the right tool for this situation. Man, bears are FAST!


After bear season, we rolled into ball, riding, camping and draw results season. As the summer progressed, I received quite a few good news.

-Yukon Caribou/Moose Special Guide license, awarded;
-Wyoming elk, awarded;
-Wyoming pronghorn, awarded;
-Saskatchewan either-sex mule deer, awarded; and
-Saskatchewan antlerless mule deer, awarded.

I was in for a heck of a fall season!

 

[SaskHunter]

 

[SaskHunter]

We took it easy this summer, I retired from “Active Duty” in the Canadian Army after 19 years. Right time, right qualifications and right place, led to me getting a pretty good job with the government where I can keep adding to my pension, benefits, etc. Most important of all, I became master of my own destiny and my family’s. No more moving, no more last-minute deployments, training, etc. Stability for my family and I!


The summer went by quick, dance competitions, ball tournaments, camping, riding, beach days, etc!





Even had a week without mom, so obviously, the girls and I got our party on!




As fall neared, I started preparing for my trip to the Yukon. Packing and getting everything ready for my first fly-in trip! This Yukon hunt is available to Canadian non-residents only, who must be accompanied by a resident. I had found a “sponsor” on a Canadian forum who had graciously volunteered to take me. He had zero caribou experience and limited moose hunting experience which wasn’t a big deal considering I’d kill a few bulls already. I did most of the e-scouting and trying to find information online, which turned out to be HARD. Unlike Alaska where you can easily find information about hunts, there is very little info about the Yukon for DIY hunters. Local knowledge is kept tight, understandably so.

After many unreturned calls to biologists and conservation officers, I found a good starting point based on some information found online with migration maps and a couple hints from locals. We aimed our sights on the Yukon side of the Cassiar Mountains.

Got some not so good but expected news a few weeks before leaving, my last grand parent had passed away so after speaking with the wife and thanks to thr goverment of Canada's policy on bereavement leave, I took an unexpected trip to Eastern Canada where I got to see family I rarely see, even got to hit the East Coast for some absolutely amazing food!






For this hunt, my partner and I were going to take ATVs as most of our hunting would be done from a base camp and ride into the mountains, to do overnight spike camps as needed. I secured an ATV and rental truck weeks before the hunt and started preparing myself and equipment for the hunt. A few days before flying in, I called back the rental place to confirm my reservation was still good to go. “Sorry, we don’t have a machine for you after all… Too many machines returned broken or not returned at all…”. This rental place was the only one in Whitehorse, I quickly got on the phone with one of my buddies who was a cop up there to see if he knew someone who could help. I also joined a few local buy and sell pages to see if some courageous soul would be willing to rent me their ATV. Low and behold, a hunter reached out to me saying he had a machine to lend me if I needed!!! We agreed on cost and pick-up time. This guy was awesome, as a hunter himself, he completely understood the situation I was in and how I felt, he was taking a huge leap of faith into an absolute stranger who pretty much pinky-promised to return his ATV back in one piece!



I flew into Whitehorse late September and was fortunate to have all my gear land with me. I felt like an imposter at the airport, waiting for my rifle to show up, surrounded by what looked like very wealthy individuals, clad in the finest of Sitkas and Kuiu, fancy bags and big pricey rifle cases. There were 10 or 12 of us waiting for our oversized luggage to show up. Three separate outfitters coming to us one by one to see who’s clients we were. “Are you hunting with XX outfitter?”, “Nah bro, I’m hunting with a buddy!”.

I spoke to a group of hunters, one of whom completely put me off. I asked what they were hunting and this dude with a thick Southern accent (which is the Canadian equivalent to you guys making fun of our “Sorry, eh Buddy!”), who went: “I’m not here to hunt, I’m here to kill a moose” with a very rude and condescending tone. That was it, I was done talking, I was tired and and hangry, but couldn’t help but think this guy was absolutely right, he was going to be flown in, cared for by the outfitter, fed, ride the outfitters horses, put on a moose by a guide who had done all the scouting for him, the same guide would likely call the moose in for him and he was going to do just that; kill a moose. I am sure most of those hunters were nice people, but it was midnight, I’d had a long day and I was ready to have a snack and go to bed.

 

[F250]

You are being too polite. The person with the attitude and southern accent was a complete Jackazz !!!

 

[JLDemo]

Gravy aside, that east coast food looks great.

Forget about the south cat, some people have more money than sense and he showed it.

Looking forward to this one, congratulations on the retirement. That's a long time to put everything else before yourself and family, you deserve the rest and hopefully some good experiences from here in Wyo. I have a tad more than 24 months left and I'll retired from the service myself. Seeing a beard and trips like this post retirement is encouraging!

 

[Nick87]

Congrats on the new job as well!

 

[B&CTom]

Congratulations on the retirement, you clearly earned it, and the new job opportunity. That's a good looking black bear, too

 

[WildWill]

Great looking family you're a lucky man @SaskHunter following along.

 

[SaskHunter]

Day 1 in the Yukon was prep and launch day. I picked up the rental and last-minute local purchases, met with my partner, hitched the trailer and went on our way to pick up the ATV. The machine was newer and in great shape, I gave the man his money and we shook hands. My partner was an older gentleman who had picked up hunting in his late 40s, still he was in pretty good shape for being a couple years shy of his 70th! We talked about where we would go, he suggested a different spot we could try should we get no luck in the Cassiars, and we headed to his place to load up the truck and trailer! To my surprise, my partner had no gear ready! I was annoyed but kept it to myself, I helped him pack and was surprised how quick he put his gear together! We loaded up the gear and started making our way late afternoon. We had a 5-hour drive ahead of us through British Columbia and back into the Yukon.


Half-way through the drive, we realized we’d forgotten the wall tent. Not a big deal, his trailer had a big wooden frame on it to support the canoe we were packing and with one pit-stop along the way for a couple of large tarps, we’d be back in business. Fingers crossed we had everything else we needed. I still had my tipi with stove, but I was keeping that for spike camps as needed, and he had a cheaper camping tent too. We drove as far as we could the first night, camping 45 minutes from the trailhead. We pulled into a rest stop, parked the truck, pitched the tent and went straight to bed, falling asleep to sound of howling wolves!


The next morning was a cold one, but we were pretty motivated to get out of our warm fart-sacks and start hunting. We packed the tent, made coffee and porridge, and were on our way before day-break. We topped off on gas (at a whopping $2.50/L) as this was the only fuel for 100+kms either way, got to the two-track trailhead and figured we would drive as far as we could or until we found a good spot for our basecamp. Along our way, we found a nice gravel pit where someone had conveniently left a target for us to confirm zero on. We drove about 10-15km up the trailhead where we found a good campground with 4 other rigs there. We put up, more like built, our tent with the tarps which turned out to be comfortable. We loaded up the ATVs and made our way up the mountain for our first out of 10 days of hunting.


Surprisingly, we didn’t see another soul that day other than a father and son, packing up their camp. They told us they had seen some caribou the weekend before up in the mountains but no moose. Nothing but wolves and brown bears! Well that was promising, caribou up in the mountains, that’s where we’re going!



We rode ~40km into the mountains that day and had the mountains to ourselves. Day 1 was more scouting than anything else. We found quite a few basins we wanted to check out in the days to come. We both could take a caribou or moose. We found lots of fresh caribou sign early PM and decided to follow the tracks as they were leading into a canyon, hoping we could perch ourselves in a good vantage point. That’s when the mountain weather hit! We spent the rest of the afternoon glassing as we got breaks in the sleet, fog and snow.



The next four days were more of the same, glassing, snowstorms, fog, rain, gorgeous weather breaks, followed by more horrible weather, shooting grouse, lots of grouse. Every night was pretty similar; get the fire going to dry our soaking wet gear. To my surprise, we hadn’t seen a single moose or caribou the five days we spent in the Cassiars, though we were glassing some of the biggest country I’ve ever seen. All we could see was sign, tracks and scats, and a lot of it, but no moose or caribou. They were here, we likely had just missed them. We ended up crossing paths with our first humans in the mountains day 5, some Canadian Rangers conducting a patrol. An older Ranger proceeded to tell us we had missed the caribou migration by a few days and that they were now only reachable by horse or helicopter, in their winter breeding grounds. With that confirmation, we decided to try a whole different area and herd, another 5 hours away.








The sceneries and quality grouse hunting sure made up for the lack of big game in the Cassiars.



First grouse double! Two birds stoned at once!



Over-dressed for the weather but likely about the get the crap kicked out of us once those grey clouds roll in!

 

[SaskHunter]

We packed up camp and made our way to the Yukon/Northwest Territories border on day 6, to hunt the Nahanni mountains. We were now hunting a mix of mountains and muskeg riddled valleys. Day one in the Nahannis, our luck turned, I spotted a wolf, then two and three, all legal with my permit. All three were completely black and ranging from 300-400m. I took out my rifle hoping to tag one but it turned out that all three were pups, which I wasn’t willing to shoot. Man, what a sight! The three of them gave us quite a show for about half an hour, until a fourth wolf started howling over a distant ridge, likely their mom, and one by one, they made their way back to her.




We found lots of tracks and signs that were all leading into the Northwest Territories side of the mountains we were hunting. We decided to try our luck in the muskeg the next day in the hopes of catching a moose or caribou. The weather was good and we were confident we could push down the trails with our machines. We would drive, glass and do it all over again. Early afternoon of the 8th day, I glassed my 10,000th “caribou” that would always turn out to be a rock, except this time, the rock was moving and feeding away from me, finally!

We left the machines and made our way on foot as the caribou was about a klick away, across a valley. Part of the rules when hunting with a sponsor is that you must stay with them at all times. After 8 days of seeing nothing but grouse, I had a lot more pep in my step than my partner who was really starting to feel those 8 days of hard hunting in crap weather. We finally stalked it to where we could have a good shot at it. The caribou was in a patch of tall willows, and we could only catch a glimpse of it from time to time as it was feeding away. This tag was only valid for a bull and this caribou was young and unlike a big bull, I had to be sure it was a male. I watched that caribou for a good half-hour, 50-75m away, trying to see if it was a bull or a cow. At last, I caught a good glimpse of its back end and but wasn’t completely sure it was a bull. The next few minutes seemed like hours, waiting for the bull to feed out of the willows and give me a better look at it. It finally left the patch of willows it was in and gave me a full broadside shot, and low and behold, I could see its schlong! It didn’t take me long to decided on whether or not I wanted to shoot it and finally we now had a caribou on the ground! My partner and I were happier than pigs in crap, our first successful caribou hunt!

As he lays!


The face of success!!!



It was now late afternoon and we needed to get to work, we snaped a few pictures and started quartering the caribou. This was my first time cutting up an animal in brown bear country, surrounded by willows as tall as I was. We quartered that caribou in record time but I could tell that my partner was absolutely spent. I suggested he stayed with the caribou and I walk back to the ATVs to grab mine to help with the pack out. He agreed. The walk back to the ATV was suddenly a lot harder than I remembered. That muskeg sucked. I managed to bring back the machine without getting stuck, surprisingly, I had shot my caribou in a muskeg hell hole. It seemed like water was somehow running up-hill and that what looked hard packed or shallow wasn’t.

We loaded up the caribou and started making our way back, myself riding the ATV loaded with the caribou and all the gear, and my partner walking along. That’s when our troubles began. I ended up getting stuck in an absolute mud pit. The ATV was completely bogged down and no patch of willows was strong enough to winch myself out. We made the decision that I would walk the rest of the way to my partner’s ATV and bring it back so that he could pull me out with his machine. It was now dark, and what was already hard to do in broad daylight, was now even harder. His headlights not working, I was going off of my headlamp. I somehow only managed to get stuck/unstuck once and finally made my way back to my ATV. It took a lot of efforts, but we managed to get my ride unstuck.

We were now 13km from camp, it was sleeting/raining, and it was pitch black outside. I was taking the lead since I had the only working headlights. The next few hours were an absolute nightmare. Both of us must have gotten stuck a dozen times each. Having gone down this trail only once, the other way and going off of my GPS with dim headlights, made for hard navigation. We hit muskeg hell hole after hell hole. A few km into our ride back, my partner’s machine started to die on us. The first few times it would re-start but eventually it would take a lot of time and effort to get it going again. As we were limping his machine back to camp, every scenario was going through my mind. We were soaked and cold, but at least I had extra gear with me. Worst case we were in for a cold night if he couldn’t go any further, or we would walk back the last few kms if he still had the energy to.

We somehow made it back to camp with both machines and in one piece. That was the last time his ATV ran for the rest of the trip as it completely died in camp and we never managed to re-start it that night or the following days. That night, while I was busy finding the right tree away from camp to hang the meat from, my partner got the fire going hot and prepared dinner. I devoured dinner, had a celebratory drink and finally crawled into my fart-sack! The next couple days were spent road hunting for my partner’s tag, visiting the Northwest Territories and taking care of my caribou. We finally decided to pack-up and head back to Whitehorse. My partner chose to “road hunt” our way back as he still had quite a lot of time to fill his moose tag in areas he knew a bit better.





We fished and hunted grouse along the way home, taking the time to stop and admire the sights! We got into Whitehorse late that night and went straight to bed! The next couple days involved butchering the caribou, fishing and visiting Whitehorse!



The Canadian North is a magical place and I hope to see it again one day!

 

[SaskHunter]

The world is your Prairie Oyster!!!