hoopscoach
Active Member
- Messages
- 309
Alaska Caribou:
I usually hunt solo on the Alaskan haul road but this year I was joined by my good friend Ron from Alabama. The salmon fishing was pretty sorry so we headed up the haul road for an archery caribou hunt. We arrived early the next morning and immediately started hunting. We found a few cows but didn't see a bull until mile marker 349. The bull was young but Ron was not going to be picky on this caribou hunt. I dropped him off well ahead of the bull and Ron used some brush to conceal his position in the ditch. The bull stopped 70 yards from Ron and stayed there for 45 minutes. Finally, he started to move and came to within 35 yards. Ron drew back and stopped the bull with a bleat but a poorly timed wind gust pushed his head net in the way and he can't see through his peep sight. The bull moved on and started trotting down the middle of the Dalton highway and it looked like Ron was out of luck. Fortunately, a truck traveling eastbound on the road turned the bull back toward Ron?s hiding place. The bull left the road and trotted onto the tundra so Ron bleated again to stop him broadside at 45 yards. Ron made a good shot and the bull piled up within 100 yards. By noon on the first day, Ron had punched his tag!
The next day we were both exhausted from the long day before so we slept in. We were on the hunt by mid-morning and the mission was any caribou. I had decided early on that if Ron filled his tag early in the hunt, I would shoot the first caribou that offered a shot so we could get home early and I could fill my freezer with some delicious caribou meat, so cow or bull didn't matter. While stopped for lunch, some other hunters stopped and asked if we had seen anything. We told them about Ron?s bull and where we had seen the majority of the caribou. They chatted a few minutes and moved on down the road. After lunch, we continued our search and came upon the hunters we had talked to earlier parked within a half mile of where Ron had gotten his bull. They were frantically pulling on camo so we stopped and asked if they had seen one. They pointed to spot about a quarter mile away where they could see an antler sticking up above the bushes. How they were able to see that antler tip at 400 yards is a mystery to me. We wished them luck on their stalk and continued down the road, glassing for more caribou.
About a half hour later we were glassing a few miles away and Ron suggested we go back and watch their stalk. I was curious to watch myself so we headed back. When we arrived, we could see the two hunters making their way back across the tundra with no sign of the bull. We continued down the road looking for a place to turn around when I spotted the bull a quarter mile in front of us on the road. We closed the distance and kept a close eye on where he was going. Another car, coming from the other direction, caused him to bail off the road and into a brushy draw that ran parallel to the haul road. I instructed Ron to continue driving and drop me off 100 yards past the bull, thinking he would continue down the draw and might present me with a shot. I got into position further down the draw and realized he had stopped in the tall bushes and was staying put. The tourists in the car were sitting there watching the bull so I waited for them to move on but after 20 minutes, it became apparent, that they weren't leaving.
After a strategic conversation with Ron, I began easing up the draw in an attempt to put myself in position for a shot. It took a little over an hour to close the distance. Several times during my stalk, I encountered spots where the bushes that had grown together creating a problem. I knew it would be noisy making my way through those spots so I would stop and wait for a tractor trailer to pass by and make enough cover noise for me to get through the trouble spot. Once I got to within 30 yards, I stopped moving and waited for him to make the next move. I figured he wasn?t likely to head toward the road because of the activity and noise so I positioned myself for shot assuming he would go the other direction. I was prepared to wait all day if necessary.
In the meantime, our tourists that were watching the events from the road were joined by several more cars that wanted to see what was going on including the hunters that has spooked him during their stalk. They were all less than 75 yards from me and the bull. I was not terribly happy with all the attention and wished they would all get bored and move on. I just tried to focus on the bull and repeating my shot routine over and over in case one was offered. After about 30 minutes of waiting, another car pulled off the road (this makes approximately 7 vehicles observing) and nearly got run over by a tractor trailer in the process. It crunched the gravel loudly and the bull got nervous, trotted out of the ditch and cleared the bushes. When he started to move, I drew my bow, unfortunately, when he stopped, I had only a head on shot. The bull had no idea I existed, and stood there for a long time so I held the bow at full draw, waiting for a broadside opportunity. Finally, after several minutes, he started to turn and as soon as I saw his shoulder, I touched the trigger. The arrow hit right where I was aiming but the quartering angle caused it to penetrate only one lung. The bull ran about 250 yards before bedding down and expiring.
When I made it back on the road and joined Ron, we found out the tourists in the first car had videoed the whole thing on their phone so email addresses were exchanged. We also talked to the hunters that stalked him originally and learned that they had gotten within 15 yards of the bull but one of them had a tickle in his throat. He drew his bow and cleared his throat thinking the bull would stand and offer a shot. Instead, the bull exploded from his bed and didn't stop until he was 60 yards out. They tried a shot but missed which is why the bull was running down the road when we stumbled upon him.
After we returned to my sister?s house and started processing the meat, Ron decided he wanted to purchase another caribou tag and drive back up the haul road for another opportunity at a bigger bull. I had made other plans and wanted to finish up the processing, so he made the trip on his own. Unbelievably, he found another bull bedded in a good place for a stalk on the first day he arrived! Ron had gotten to within 45 yards when the bull stood and started to walk across the tundra. He was not spooked so Ron stopped him with a bleat, at 45 yards and made a perfect broadside shot. The bull did not run far and Ron collected his second caribou bull!
Three caribou in three days of hunting is about as good as it gets on the Dalton Highway. To say we were extremely lucky on this hunt would have been a major understatement.
Stay tuned as I recount my AZ elk hunt!
"Rather fail with honor than succeed by fraud"
I usually hunt solo on the Alaskan haul road but this year I was joined by my good friend Ron from Alabama. The salmon fishing was pretty sorry so we headed up the haul road for an archery caribou hunt. We arrived early the next morning and immediately started hunting. We found a few cows but didn't see a bull until mile marker 349. The bull was young but Ron was not going to be picky on this caribou hunt. I dropped him off well ahead of the bull and Ron used some brush to conceal his position in the ditch. The bull stopped 70 yards from Ron and stayed there for 45 minutes. Finally, he started to move and came to within 35 yards. Ron drew back and stopped the bull with a bleat but a poorly timed wind gust pushed his head net in the way and he can't see through his peep sight. The bull moved on and started trotting down the middle of the Dalton highway and it looked like Ron was out of luck. Fortunately, a truck traveling eastbound on the road turned the bull back toward Ron?s hiding place. The bull left the road and trotted onto the tundra so Ron bleated again to stop him broadside at 45 yards. Ron made a good shot and the bull piled up within 100 yards. By noon on the first day, Ron had punched his tag!
The next day we were both exhausted from the long day before so we slept in. We were on the hunt by mid-morning and the mission was any caribou. I had decided early on that if Ron filled his tag early in the hunt, I would shoot the first caribou that offered a shot so we could get home early and I could fill my freezer with some delicious caribou meat, so cow or bull didn't matter. While stopped for lunch, some other hunters stopped and asked if we had seen anything. We told them about Ron?s bull and where we had seen the majority of the caribou. They chatted a few minutes and moved on down the road. After lunch, we continued our search and came upon the hunters we had talked to earlier parked within a half mile of where Ron had gotten his bull. They were frantically pulling on camo so we stopped and asked if they had seen one. They pointed to spot about a quarter mile away where they could see an antler sticking up above the bushes. How they were able to see that antler tip at 400 yards is a mystery to me. We wished them luck on their stalk and continued down the road, glassing for more caribou.
About a half hour later we were glassing a few miles away and Ron suggested we go back and watch their stalk. I was curious to watch myself so we headed back. When we arrived, we could see the two hunters making their way back across the tundra with no sign of the bull. We continued down the road looking for a place to turn around when I spotted the bull a quarter mile in front of us on the road. We closed the distance and kept a close eye on where he was going. Another car, coming from the other direction, caused him to bail off the road and into a brushy draw that ran parallel to the haul road. I instructed Ron to continue driving and drop me off 100 yards past the bull, thinking he would continue down the draw and might present me with a shot. I got into position further down the draw and realized he had stopped in the tall bushes and was staying put. The tourists in the car were sitting there watching the bull so I waited for them to move on but after 20 minutes, it became apparent, that they weren't leaving.
After a strategic conversation with Ron, I began easing up the draw in an attempt to put myself in position for a shot. It took a little over an hour to close the distance. Several times during my stalk, I encountered spots where the bushes that had grown together creating a problem. I knew it would be noisy making my way through those spots so I would stop and wait for a tractor trailer to pass by and make enough cover noise for me to get through the trouble spot. Once I got to within 30 yards, I stopped moving and waited for him to make the next move. I figured he wasn?t likely to head toward the road because of the activity and noise so I positioned myself for shot assuming he would go the other direction. I was prepared to wait all day if necessary.
In the meantime, our tourists that were watching the events from the road were joined by several more cars that wanted to see what was going on including the hunters that has spooked him during their stalk. They were all less than 75 yards from me and the bull. I was not terribly happy with all the attention and wished they would all get bored and move on. I just tried to focus on the bull and repeating my shot routine over and over in case one was offered. After about 30 minutes of waiting, another car pulled off the road (this makes approximately 7 vehicles observing) and nearly got run over by a tractor trailer in the process. It crunched the gravel loudly and the bull got nervous, trotted out of the ditch and cleared the bushes. When he started to move, I drew my bow, unfortunately, when he stopped, I had only a head on shot. The bull had no idea I existed, and stood there for a long time so I held the bow at full draw, waiting for a broadside opportunity. Finally, after several minutes, he started to turn and as soon as I saw his shoulder, I touched the trigger. The arrow hit right where I was aiming but the quartering angle caused it to penetrate only one lung. The bull ran about 250 yards before bedding down and expiring.
When I made it back on the road and joined Ron, we found out the tourists in the first car had videoed the whole thing on their phone so email addresses were exchanged. We also talked to the hunters that stalked him originally and learned that they had gotten within 15 yards of the bull but one of them had a tickle in his throat. He drew his bow and cleared his throat thinking the bull would stand and offer a shot. Instead, the bull exploded from his bed and didn't stop until he was 60 yards out. They tried a shot but missed which is why the bull was running down the road when we stumbled upon him.
After we returned to my sister?s house and started processing the meat, Ron decided he wanted to purchase another caribou tag and drive back up the haul road for another opportunity at a bigger bull. I had made other plans and wanted to finish up the processing, so he made the trip on his own. Unbelievably, he found another bull bedded in a good place for a stalk on the first day he arrived! Ron had gotten to within 45 yards when the bull stood and started to walk across the tundra. He was not spooked so Ron stopped him with a bleat, at 45 yards and made a perfect broadside shot. The bull did not run far and Ron collected his second caribou bull!
Three caribou in three days of hunting is about as good as it gets on the Dalton Highway. To say we were extremely lucky on this hunt would have been a major understatement.
Stay tuned as I recount my AZ elk hunt!
"Rather fail with honor than succeed by fraud"