Bury Me In The Mackenzie Mountains

[passinthru]

Congratulations Randy! Thank you for writing up an excellent story on an amazing place. Wonderful people experiencing the ultimate hunt for many. Nice work sir!

 

[passinthru]

Man going thru all the pictures again, Marcus you did an amazing job! You all are a bad, very bad influence.


Dammit, Now I'm trying to figure out which organs aren't absolutely necessary so as to fund this type of an expedition!

Great work to all.

 

[MaybelNellie]

August 20th (Caribou Day #1, Part 2)

I hiked further ahead while the three guys stayed glassing near the horses. If these bulls did move ahead, we need to look at those other openings up the drainage and hope to catch sight of them crossing.

About twenty minutes later I move back toward the guys and glass from there. Riley waves me over. One of the guys has found the dude with forked tops bedded in some really thick stuff. Almost impossible to see him, but from the proper angle you can make out one beam and the whiteness of his mane.

Damn, the game continues.

Andy looks at me, "I'm not going to shoot either of those bulls. You should shoot one if you want one of them."

"You sure?" I ask, quizzing him.

"Yup, I'm sure." Andy confirms. Not sure how we lucked out to get such a great sweepstakes winner. He did warn me before leaving that morning that I would most likely be the shooter today.

"Alright then." I look to Riley who is grinning. Marcus is packing his stuff, knowing the look I express when the time has come. And now, the time has come.

Riley unties and mounts up. He explains we are going to move downwind and up the other slope. There's a small bench that runs directly to where they are bedded. If we get up there we'll have the wind in our favor and the visibility will provide better shooting options. And with that, we're off.

After making a half-mile arc downwind and slightly uphill, Riley has us tying off horses. From here we'll climb uphill to gain the visual advantage, then pivot and head upwind toward their bedding location.

It's a half-mile stalk and in about twenty minutes we know we're getting close. This is when a guided hunt is always hard for me. Everyone has their own pace and style. Fortunately, Riley's pace is like mine; slow and methodical, even if what I see for good shooting perches might be different than his.

We sneak over the final ridge, knowing they are there. But, no bulls.

We move left, hoping it will give us a different view. Nothing.

Riley moves a few steps back up the ridge, indicating we'll wait them out here. The ranges are from 15o-210 yards. Wind is now from right to left at about 10 mph.

I step further back to a position that will allow me to be fully prone. As I do Riley sees what I'm up to and retreats slightly behind me. We wait, but not for long.

I had decided I'd take the bull with the crazy tops, even if he wasn't as big as the other bull. The bull with the big fronts rises from his bed and starts moving out of the basin. He stops for a 185 yard broadside shot. In the scope his fronts look too big to be real.

I'm scouring for the other big bull. I see a white rump moving straight uphill behind the thickest part of these tall spruce. It must be him. "Come on buddy step out where your mate stood."

Nope. He walks over the ridge never giving a full identity of which bull it is. Now the final bull rises and moves out of the thicket, walking the same path as the first bull with the big fronts. Damn it, bull #2 must have been the guy with the crazy tops.

I see the antlers of a bull bobbing as he feeds just off the ridgeline that forms the north edge of the small pocket. Through the scope I can see the antler tops. It's the dude with the crazy forks everywhere.

Riley sees it also. It's only 220 yards off, but the ridge protects everything but the top of his rack. Good news is that we know all three of them has moved over this small ridge into the next cut that is very open.

We grab our stuff and start moving. Quietly, looking ahead, in the event they have tried to circle above us. Andy stays back further. Riley is leading and Marcus is right on my hip.

As we get close we can see this open basin. The wind is from a different direction here, explaining why they bedded where they did. There are no caribou in this pocket. They must have made a J-hook to try get our wind.

Riley moves left about ten yards. He sees caribou bodies milling in the spruce below. It's too thick to tell who is who.

I drop below Riley and sit on my butt with my pack upright in front of me. This is close shooting and it will serve as an adequate rest.

As I ease a round into the chamber one bull steps out and looks up our direction. I am on 4x and he looks huge through the scope at 110 yards. It's the bulls with the huge fronts. Now I can see how crazy long his tops are as they fold in and form a basket.

As Kara always suggest, "Look at 'em in the crosshairs. You'll likely have an easier decision."

Yes, this is a no-brainer decision. I inform Marcus I'm going to take this bull. He confirms he's rolling. Riley reads 108 yards.

The shot is a bit quartering to me. Shouldn't matter at this range.

The crosshairs are steady. My breath expires and the trigger is slowly reaching it's breaking point. It's quiet as everyone is waiting for the sound of the rifle.

Silence is broken as the trigger releases 140 grains of .284 AccuBond. I can hear and immediate crack after the muzzle blast. Either shoulder or ribs.

The bulls bolts to our left and out of sight. The other two bulls are milling around. They move over to where the target bull disappeared. Their obscured bodies seem to be looking at something below. With some noise below them they whirl and head to our right, opposite of where the bull ran when I shot.

It's again quiet. We all look at each other. We're whispering what we think happened, not wanting to alert a bull that might not have yet expired.

Marcus reviews the clip and zooms in. "He's dead. You drilled him on the point of the shoulder, middle of the lungs at that shot angle."

We all feel some relief, yet until he's recovered, I'm not celebrating. Riley suggests I lead down this hill to the point of the shot, keeping one in the chamber in the event of a needed follow up.

As we get to the flat spot where the bull stood with his right antler behind a spruce tree on my left, I can see the smaller tree that framed him on his right. This was where he stood. As I look for blood Riley tells me to unload and come his way.

There, 30 yards away, the bull is expired in an opening surrounded by willows. I walk up to him and tap his eye. No response. The entrance wound tells the story. He wasn't going far.

I stand back. He's huge; much bigger than I thought from afar. I look up to the three guys with big smiles. They're as impressed as I am.

I unload my rifle and remove the clip. I drop my pack and return to the bull.

I've never shot an animal in full velvet. With caribou, on a bull this big, it's an impressive display. I'm seeking words, but all I can manage is some head shaking and a few "Wows." The guys all come to shake my hand, but I should be the one shaking their hands.

Three amazing guys who made the last ten days of my life one of the most memorable hunts I will ever have; that I will likely ever have. They all gave so generously of their time, effort, and consideration. I have no words to adequately thank them. I hope my smile and look of wonderment will suffice to express what this meant to me.

As I regain some awareness that this really happened, I remind the guys what Marcus had said earlier, "Don't worry about it. Shoot the first one that steps out." Turns out to be what I did. And I'm very thankful for that.

I'll let Marcus' pictures tell the final pieces of the story.
View attachment 337888

The view of just how much his tops roll in to form a basket. So hard to see that from the side, but when seeing it from above and face on it made shooting an easy decision.
View attachment 337889

Three guys to whom I owe a huge debt of gratitude.
View attachment 337890

Andy helping me remove quarters while Riley does the caping. When not taking pictures Marcus is deboning the quarters.
View attachment 337891

A big bull loaded on Baxter the Big Black Horse.
View attachment 337892


Thanks for following along. I've got a ton of gear to de-junk and clean, along with dinner with Mrs. Fin.

In the next few days I'll add more comments about Gana River and their crew, some gear we tested, and some other general notes.

I hope you enjoyed this story. Thanks to Marcus' hard work to capture all of this, along with the Riley's skill and knowledge, combined with Andy's great camaraderie, I think we "Did it up right."

Might never happen, but with the caribou populations suffering esp in BC and Alaska, high time a Caribou Foundation is formed. As Randy experienced, many sheep hunters up north kill a ram early and the caribou hunt part becomes maybe the most memorable part of the hunt. So challenging at least for me to find a good one, a true symbol of the north and truly "No more beautiful animal inhabits the face of this earth than a bull caribou", as O'Connor said. (I am sure @Big Fin would have way too much humility to admit, but I find if hard to believe he was only schooled in accounting. Your words here sir are some of the finest I have read in a long time!

 

[maxracx]

Randy, thank you so very much for sharing your adventure. I can't wait to watch the video. Like you stated the pictures never do justice to the beauty. My wife and I truly enjoy watching your videos. You and your team are the best in the business. Thank you again.

 

[BrowningCitori]

Congratulations! NOW THAT IS LIVING! Thanks for sharing the story.

 

[LelyHunter]

Wow! What an incredible hunt, story, pictures…adventure! Congrats, that country is beyond words

 

[Big Fin]

For those who have Fresh Tracks+, the first of seven "Day-by-day" episodes is now up on FT+.

 

[Sixmile]

What a great adventure! Looks like real nice country.

 

[buffybr]

I don't know how I missed this thread earlier. As usual, Randy's write up and pictures were great. I've known Randy for many years, and I did almost this same hunt back on 1999 and was my first guided hunt. His report brought back many great memories from my hunt there.

Being an engineer back in my working life, the hydro electricty generating system that Gana River has at their base camp really impressed me, and it makes for a very comfortable remote camp. When I was in their camp 25 years ago, the hunters signed the walls of the hunter's cabins, listing the animals that they successfully shot. I signed my success on the wall, but I didn't take a picture of it and I've often wondered if it was still there. It was, and thank you Randy for sending me a picture of it.

My hunt was first a Super Cub fly out from their base camp to some mountain top, then backpacking from there to a spike camp where we would hunt for a Dall ram. I was lucky enough to have shot my ram the day after we flew and hiked into our spike camp. We got him caped and boned out and back to our spike that day, then the 3rd day we packed him and our camp down to the base of the mountain where the Super Cub would pick us up on the top the next day.

On the hike down, as we stopped for one break, and while we were resting there, a Wolverine came up the valley toward us. That was only the 2nd Wolverine that I've ever seen in the wild, and luckily I had bought a $25 tag.

Then after a day of rest in base camp, my guide and I flew out to another area where my guide had seen a lot of Mountain caribou on the previous hunt. Most of the caribou had moved out of that drainage, but on day 2 from that spike camp we spotted a lone monster bull that my guide thought would go up to a snowbank where about a dozen cows were on, getting away from the mosquitoes, so we headed out of sight up toward the snowbank with the cows. But the bull had other ideas and the next time we saw him he was a mile or so down the valley going the other direction.

We also saw 2 other bulls that day, and my guide urged me to shoot the larger one, but I declined thinking about the monster down the valley, and that we were several miles away from our spike camp. The next morning as we were cooking our breakfast, both of those bulls walked by, about 150 yards from our camp. I didn't turn him down that time.

My Caribou bull was in full velvet and hadn't started to rub, so the camp staff painted the velvet with turpentine, pricked the points of each antler to allow the blood to run out, and hung the rack in the shade. At home, my taxidermist sent the antlers to a place where they freeze dried them, and was able to shoulder mount him with his full velvet antlers.

Randy's story of his MacKenzie Mountains hunt is far better than I could ever write, and he fully captured the great experience of his hunt there. My hunt there was one of the best hunts that I have ever been on.