Ashton’s Redemption Bear Hunt

 

After the steep learning curve I experienced last year on how to truly prepare a kid for a bear stand hunt, I had plans to make many adjustments this year. The first adjustment was going to be abandoning my decade long, well established baiting site, in exchange for a more accessible one that would hopefully be more remote and crawling with more bears. The plan was for a coworker (who will remain nameless) of mine to take over my old bait site and we would setup a different one. I did a bunch of research and found what I thought would be the perfect spot, using my boat to get there.

As the designated bait stand setup weekend got closer, it became apparent I miscalculated the ability of the season to thaw the ice in time. A few days prior to the needed weekend, there was still thick ice preventing any boat from getting close to where I intended to bait bears. Due to the next couple weekends being packed with unchangeable plans, going a different time was not an option. This meant the old bait stand would have to suffice for another year. I let my coworker know we would be sharing the stand, which was perfectly fine with him.

We planned to head in on a Saturday and spend the entire day setting up, however, plans had to change to Sunday due to my coworker taking a shift on Saturday. Because of that, I decided to pack up the truck and head down with Ashton the bay before. We explored, played games, did shot placement challenges, and got him comfortable shooting the rifle again.

One of the things I needed to change was how Ashton was resting the rifle. The stand was setup for adults and he could not sit comfortably in the seat with the rifle in the shooting rest. To shoot off the current setup, he had to sit on his curled-up feet, which resulted in the rifle moving quite a bit at rest. This also made him extremely fatigued rather quickly because many muscles were engaged simply holding the rifle on its potential target. To correct this, I rigged up a tri-claw clamp to put on his rifle. This meant that I would take a tripod with us to the tree stand, set it up on the platform in front of us, and have him rest the rifle using the tri-claw. The best thing about this approach is that we could practice a near similar scenario before getting in the tree stand.

We were allowed to target shoot where we were camping for the night, so we got out all our shooting gear to get Ashton comfortable with the tri-claw setup. Shooting off the tripod with the tri-claw worked perfectly! It took quite a few loads, but Ashton eventually got the jitters out and confidence up to shoot tight groups at 50 yards. The best part of the shooting session was his ability to know exactly what to expect when we got in the tree stand (and his excitement to not have to sit on his feet while looking down the barrel).

It was starting to rain so we wrapped up our shooting and retreated to the camper for dinner. I sent a text to my coworker to show him the exact spot to meet us at in the morning. He replied with a message that he wasn’t going to make it, since he really needed a day off to recover from a grueling work schedule. When I read this, I was FURIOUS… not at him, but at myself. I have been burned so many times by “friends” or potential hunting partners from me relying on them to do something or uphold their word. I have relied on people to assist with filling my freezer, only to be disappointed and let down. This has happened to me so many times that I vowed to not assist someone or bring them into my circle when it meant it could potentially impact my freezer space. Well, I ignored that promise to myself with this coworker and it bit me in the ass big time. I depended on this coworker to arrive on Sunday, with his two boys, with dog food. Because I was foolish enough to depend on someone outside of my circle, I suffered the consequences. Ashton and I were now the only ones here to setup the bait stand. The distance needing covered and weight needing hiked in takes two full grown men about 6 – 8 hours of setting up. I could have easily gotten one or two other guys I trusted there to help me, but instead, I ended up with no help. In addition, I was short on needed dog food to fill the barrel. I guess this wasn’t the worst thing since I wouldn’t really be able to do all the lifting and hiking myself, but it wasn’t even an option to fill the barrel at this point.

I was absolutely fuming. I have been talking with this guy for many months about baiting bears, which seemed genuine, but now felt like lies. I spent the rest of the night debating what to do on Sunday… abort and don’t hunt this year, or hammer out an all day grind meant for two guys. I bounced the options off Kevin and he settled me down, suggesting I do the bare minimum, leaving cameras, oil, and anything non-essential behind. I appreciated his suggestions as it grounded me and convinced me to push through the next day.

I spent the rest of the night trying not to think about what felt like a knife in my back. Ashton does a good job of taking my mind off things, making me laugh and being a sentimental stinker at the most opportune moments. We ate dinner, watched a superhero movie, played a game on his tablet, and went to bed ready to work the next day.

When we woke up, the weather was terrible, rainy and cold. This put a damper on any optimism I had, but Ashton filled the bucket with his comment, “It’s just rain Dad, we are Alaskan’s, we don’t let rain stop us.” So true son!

It was at this point I wished Ashton was  a teenager. Unfortunately, the maximum amount of weight he could carry on his back was about 15 pounds, but it was better than nothing! About half of our trail is nothing more than a small path winding through thick trees. Due to the record snow this year, trees fell across our trail in many places and alders collapsed everywhere too (still rooted). These obstructions took a significant amount of time the first time in due to the need to reroute or use the handsaw to cut them.

Once at the bait site, we could tell bears were already showing up, expecting to feast. There were large brown bear tracks in the snow and scat piles around the tree the barrel hangs on. The darn brown bears are a nuisance, so I was glad they showed up with nothing available to eat. I hoped this would make them move on and not return.  We made three trips in and out (typically it’s two with 2 adults), dropping gear at the bait each time. After the last load, we started to set everything up.

I learned my lesson from last year to not put the barrel on the side of the tree where the bears have dug a huge pit from eating the oil-soaked ground. Instead, I strapped the barrel to face the other side of the tree so a bear at the barrel would have no pit to hide half of its body from Ashton.

Unfortunately, in my attempt to shed weight and leave behind the nonessential gear, I also left behind the lock for the chain that holds the barrel to the tree. I felt so stupid and again frustrated at my coworker because this mistake was indirectly caused by him. I let Ashton know that we would need to make another round trip just for the lock, to which he understandably groaned and asked to not do it. At this point, he suggested just tying the chain together with rope. I didn’t think of that option because these brown bears bend the drums like an accordion… there is no way rope would hold them. I decided his idea was worth a shot to prevent us from adding another six-mile round trip and decided that if a brown bear ripped it off, it would be worth the saved miles. I proceeded to tie the chain together with paracord in six different places, using multiple wraps, making it stronger as a unit (spoiler, it held perfectly).

We were pooped at this point, and happy to head out for the final trip back to the truck. It was late evening, and Ashton had school the next day… our ETA for getting home was going to put him well past his bedtime, especially if we stopped for ice cream.

A tradition we try to repeat is stopping for ice cream on the way home after a hard day of setting up the stand or hunting. I was confident the store was closed, so we weren’t in a hurry to leave. However, after we loaded up and headed home, we noticed the OPEN sign still on when we drove by. It was one minute until the top of the hour and apparently, that is when they closed! I told Ashton to run inside as fast as he can. As we approached the front door, a man with a scowl greeted us and said we really needed to arrive earlier, to which I let him know they needed to update their hours on Google because according to Google, they closed an hour prior. I let everyone know all we wanted was an ice cream cone for the kid, and they lightened up a little. Ashton was now under pressure to hurry up and make a decision on what to order. In his hurry, he picked Rocky Road, a flavor he has never had before (he usually gets some kind of sherbet). We gave them a good tip, paid, and ran out of the store basically swept out with the brooming.

Unfortunately, Ashton didn’t like his flavor of choice. I guess Rocky Road has peanuts in it, and Ashton does not like nuts. He ended up taking bites and spitting out the nuts. This took him a while to eat his ice cream cone and he barely kept up with it melting too much and making a mess. As soon as he finished his cone, he passed out from the long day of setting up. I wished I could sleep the whole drive home too 😊

The following week at work was awkward. I was still furious about being ditched at the last second. I avoided my coworker, but we crossed paths a couple times at which point I made sure exchanges were super brief and professional. To this day I’m still upset with myself for letting someone in, only to get burned again.

Ashton and I had two hunting dates planned for the bait site, two weeks and three weeks out. If the first option didn’t work, the second one would be used.

Hunting Trip 1

I picked up Ashton from school on a Friday and we headed directly for the bait stand. The plan was to hopefully shoot a bear early on, but if needed, we were already planning to pull him from school on Monday to use that day for hunting too. Before leaving town, we had to make a stop at the bicycle repair shop to pick up Ashton’s bike, which he wanted to ride for the first half of our hike to the stand (which was on gravel).

After we arrived, we ate our dinner and then proceeded to hike bait into the site. We arrived at a chaotic scene. The barrel was completely empty. This is not good to happen because bears no longer have a reason to come back if there is no food to eat. I was unsure how long the bait was dry since I didn’t have cameras posted. In addition, a dang brown bear somehow managed to steal the anise scent bell I had hung more than 12 feet in the air. This bell is often the saving grace if food is low or empty… it still produces a sweet smell that will bring in bears. If the bait has food in it, the bears leave the bell alone; but if there is no bait to eat, they turn their attention to other edible things. Again, I could not see what took the bell or when, because I was forced to abandon the cameras when setting up without help.

Well, both the bait was gone and bell was eaten, making zero reasons for bears to be at the bait site. Of course, I was internally angry blaming the inability to fill the barrel all the way on my coworker. I also wanted to know date and times of happenings at the bait stand but again, blamed my coworker for that inability as well.

We rebaited the barrel with dog food, sprayed the air with anise, and headed back to the camper hoping everything went dry recently and curious bears were still around. After we returned to the camper, we didn’t know what to do. Typically, this is the time we sit down and review pictures and videos of bears to get a good idea of what we can expect. We didn’t have intel to review, so we just watched a quick show before we headed for bed.

Prior to bedtime, I started to have a runny nose that seemed like the start of allergies. I didn’t have allergy medications, so I just tried to blow it all out whenever I could.

The plan would be to sleep in tomorrow morning, and not wake up early. The bait and scent needed to soak and since the site was dry, there were likely no bears hitting it regularly in the morning.

We eventually rolled out of bed around 9AM. Donuts are a must when bear hunting, so Ashton indulged in his pastries while I got everything ready for a long day in the stand. We got to the stand around 11AM, and nothing had touched the bait since we were there last night.

We saw absolutely nothing all day. We sat for eight hours, and had nothing to show for it.

Fast forward to the next morning… We got to the stand around 9AM, and again, nothing had hit the bait overnight. We sat for another 10 hours without seeing anything. However, this time, I may have been partially to blame for a lack of bears. Apparently, my allergies decided to go on hyperdrive, and I could not stop my nose from running. It was dripping nonstop, like a faucet, both out my nostrils and into my throat. I was a mess, sneezing every 10 minutes, and sniffling/ coughing every 60 seconds. There likely was no way bears would get anywhere close to us with that kind of noise (or so I wanted to believe due to the lack of action)

Monday rolled around and we only planned to hunt until 2PM. We got there around 9AM, sat for five hours of me having the worst allergies of my entire life, and never seeing a bear. The only consolation prize to sitting 23 total hours was that a porcupine came waddling in to view at the 23^rd hour. Ashton has never seen a wild porcupine (that he remembers) so he said all the sitting was worth that quick sighting. For me on the other hand, it wasn’t worth it… and I blamed it on the bear bait being dry for way too long, which of course I thought was my my fault again for relying on my coworker.

We were forced to leave the bait stand empty handed and planned to come back next weekend, which hopefully by then bears have found the bait.

Hunting Trip 2

Ashton was done with school for the year, so we left for the stand Friday after work. Once we got there, we repeated the same process of heading in to add bait and check out the site. This time I took a camera and another scent bell with us to hang.

The bait was munched on since last weekend. It was mostly gone, but there were still pieces on the ground and a handful at the bottom of the barrel. This meant that the bears that were eating the bait would be back until there was nothing left.

We dumped 50 pounds of dog food in the barrel, hung the scent bell, put up the camera, and headed back to the truck. We were eager to hunt the stand knowing bears were active and coming back this time. We wouldn’t be able to sleep in the next morning, so we went to bed early.

The next morning was more of the same routine of eating donuts, making lunches, packing for extended sitting time, and (forgot to mention this earlier) getting a poop out of Ashton. We then headed into the bait site, getting settled in the stand by 8AM. We could tell the bait was hit some time over night so we hoped bears would come back while we were there.

The bugs were bad this weekend and mosquito nets were needed. We got the tripod and tri-claw setup in case Ashton would need it, and then settled in for a potential 11 hour sit. I kicked my allergies with the help of medications, but it turned into a sinus infection. At least I wasn’t dripping nonstop and making noise every 20 seconds… I now had to clear the congestion every hour or so.

It was beginning to feel like another long day of nothing when I spotted a small black bear to my right around 1PM. He only passed by, smelling the bait area, and then taking off as fast as he appeared. Then around 3PM, a bigger bear was spotted circling the outside of the bait site. I told Ashton where he was, but of course, it stayed out of site for an extended period of time. It then popped out about 10 yards directly to our left with its nose held high. He knew we were there; he could smell us. He was debating what to do with our presence, and he chose violence (more like intimidation).

The bear looked up at us, snorted, and then pounded the ground with aggression. He walked a little closer to us and then repeated the aggressive act. I have never had a bear do this to me in the tree stand before unless I was being loud and purposely trying to scare it off. This guy obviously didn’t like what he smelled and wanted to let us know not to mess with him. Before he got aggressive, I didn’t think the bear was too big, but this had me second guessing myself. At the same time, I had my hand on the revolver in case I needed to shoot the bear if it decided to climb the stand.

His circling was done now that he came out of the cover to threaten us. He got wise and turned toward the bait. Eating was on his mind now. As he got comfortable by the barrel, Ashton got comfortable with the rifle. I told him he needed to look down the scope at the bear for a couple minutes before even thinking about shooting. This would get his nerves settled and confident in the shooting spot… it would also allow me to see if the end of his rifle was moving while he zeroed in on the kill zone. About a minute into this focused aiming, he was rock solid, and the rifle was not moving at all. I let him know, he can shoot when he feels comfortable.

The bear was lying down completely broadside. This isn’t the best shot, but it was one we practiced a lot on shot placement charts. Ashton knew not to take a shot he didn’t feel comfortable with, or one that had the bear at an awkward angle. Well, Ashton must have felt extremely confident from our placement practice because it wasn’t 10 seconds after I gave him the go ahead to when he started his shooting breathing, and pulled the trigger!

It was a perfect shot! Blood was instantly pouring out of the bear while it ran to escape whatever just happened to him. Although he was out of site, he only ran 20 yards and dropped. The death moan soon followed, which signified a bear that was going home with us.

Ashton was so excited and happy he cried. He said this was the first time he ever had happy tears. You can tell where his heart is too because one of the first things he said was that he couldn’t wait to tell Josie and Mom!

We climbed down the tree stand and collected our gear before we headed over to the barrel. There was blood splatter everywhere. Ashton followed the blood trail and quickly found the bear, curled up, deceased, under some alders. We then kneeled by the bear, shared a prayer to praise God, and thanked the bear for its sacrifice.

The bear wasn’t a massive bear, but it wasn’t a small bear either. It was a great first black bear and it had a perfect hide. It wasn’t old enough to have flat or damaged teeth, so it was likely a four to five year old boar. We drug the bear up hill about 5 yards and placed it in a flat, clean area with cover to protect from sun and rain. Lots of pictures were then taken before the butchering began.

This was the second bear Ashton helped me butcher. He does a great job listening, watching, holding, and fetching needed items… he makes field dressing way easier and more enjoyable. While cutting up the bear, I noticed the shot placement was absolutely perfect. Ashton shot the bear through both lungs and the heart, and didn’t hit either front quarter, damaging very little meat. He was bummed that he hit the heart though since that is his favorite thing to eat.

We were in no hurry, so we took our time cutting up the bear. A few hours later, we were all done and managed to load both our packs with everything to take stuff out in a single load. I took the entire bear (meat, hide, skull), and some other heavy items while Ashon got the bulky/ lighter things. It took a few stops on the way out, but we managed to get back to the truck around dinner time.

We debated staying another night, but I don’t like messing with bear meat since it can go rancid quickly, so we decided to head home for a late-night arrival.

Ashton was so psyched about his success that he wanted me to send the picture to everyone he knew. We sent it to many people, and he continues to tell people about the hunt to this day. He is now asking me what animal he can shoot next and has set his heart on a caribou (too bad hunting opportunities for those continues to decrease).

It’s fun watching him grow as an outdoorsman, and I take pride in knowing I had a huge hand in his success; he may never recognize it, but that doesn’t matter to me. His success is my success, and now I may never need to shoot a rifle again!

It's a tradition every year that I allow the kids to draw something on the barrel. This is Josie's mountain scenary drawing. I can't post Ashton's drawing because he draws innapropriate things (I have no idea where he gets that from).

Getting comfortable on the Tri-Claw with tripod.

Shadow workhorses... if only we had two more for setting up.

Here is Ashton trying to pull the 130 pound cart, and not budging it.

Mr. Brown Bear was back too early! 

All better now that the barrel is on the other side of the tree. 

Ashton found a blow dart in the woods. This thing was SHARP too... good thing someone or something didn't step on it. 

He deserved to sleep after a hard day of hiking everything in. 

I wanted to show some examples of the shot placement practice I created on my phone. I found a ton of pictures of black bears, then I duplicated each of them. I then placed a red dot on the duplicates to indicate the needed shot placement based on where Ashton should be shooting. He would then look at a picture (without the red dot), point with the stylus where the shot should occur, then keeping the stylus touching the screen, he would swipe to bring in the next picture with the dot. This would then show him how close he was at getting the placement correct. It didn't take him long to nail every one. 

Ashton loves his new bike with gears. Going up hills is a piece of cake now. 

These dang brown bears rip the chains through metal when they are mad the barrel is empty.

This squirrel was the only active critter eating that first hunting weekend.

I never knew they liked dog food. 

I think he was looking for more food in my pack. 

And here is the porcupine

This is the bear Ashton shot. This is the exact position the bear was in as well. 

Gross I know, but this sinus infection I had on the second hunting weekend was no joke!

And many trophy pics commence... 

This guy came in aggressive!

WARNING - This is the kill shot video. You also can hear what a bear sounds like when it is dying, which is disturbing but part of the harvest. 

Ashton follows the blood to his downed bear. 

And here is a video of a typical boy, and a good reason he was well prepared to hit homeruns this baseball season.

Lifetime Hunt, #2?

About four years ago, I got lucky enough to draw a bison tag for the Delta herd. It was an epic hunt where Ashton got to tag along on our successful harvest. Per Alaska rules, I can not apply for a bison tag for the following 10 years. That doesn’t mean Danielle was unable to apply though! I do the research and application process for her, so I put her in for the Copper River bison hunt, and I’ll be darned, she drew it! It’s near impossible to draw a bison tag, and some how both Danielle and I got super lucky. It was now Danielle’s turn to target the great buffalo.

Planning for this hunt was going to be intense! It was open to hunt from September to the end of March, however, my work schedule and The Joint Commission’s plan to visit my hospital in the fall meant our only hope was the winter portion.

This was the first, true winter hunt either of us have ever done for a big game animal (other than caribou). The area would be completely new, remote, and dangerous. Most of the land the bison roam on is private, native-owned land where hunting or trespassing is not allowed. In the winter, the only way to get to the bison is either hunting the river or a small portion of public land among the many thousands of acres the bison roam. The only way to get to them is via air or traveling on the Copper River. If you know Alaska, you know the Copper River is very intimidating and unpredictable. The ability to cross the river varies considerably each year depending on many weather and environmental factors, with the best approach to hunt it when the conditions are perfect (and safest). Unfortunately, we didn’t have the leisure to be able to wait and then go when all stars aligned because we had to fly my Mom up to watch the kids (which required plane tickets ten months in advance). As a result, we decided on the second to last week of February to schedule our hunt, hoping the dates would be a good balance between the coldest winter days freezing the river and having enough daylight to hunt… plus, we had plans to visit Hawaii the second week of March 😊

With dates locked in, intense planning started. I reached out to everyone I knew that had any intel on the hunt and gathered a lot of information. Everything I learned pointed to planning to cross the river on snowmachines. Kevin loves winter hunting on snowmachines, so of course we asked him to come with, and he was psyched to tag along.

I talked with many people that were successful on the hunt during the fall, but fewer people were successful during the winter time. Two people were particularly helpful during the planning stage, a a freind and coworker’s wife, Kate, who drew the hunt the prior year, and an acquaintance from Facebook, Jay. We had both hunters out to our house for dinner and to talk about their hunts. Jay did the hunt successfully with a couple friends two years prior. They carefully hiked across the river through some sketchy areas, but were able to drop a bison and drag it out on a sled. Kate was able to drop a bison in the Chetaslina drainage after snowmachining in. Both hunters had some fairly terrifying stories that could have resulted in serious consequences, but both came out unscathed and successful. In the end, our plans and needs matched how Kate got her bison, so that is what we molded our tentative plan on… we now had to pray that the ice was solid and safe enough to ride it to the same drainage (basically the only public land off the river that can be hunted with a descent chance of success).

The many months leading up to the hunt were spent collecting gear (ice climbing, river rescue, winter survival, snow camping, climbing, etc.), seeking herd updates, and watching ice reports. Shortly into the season, my friend Wilbur told me he met a guy ice fishing that also had the same bison tag. He got his number and asked me if he could give him my number… to which I said yes. Ryan texted me shortly after and we stayed in touch as the season got closer.

When February got here, things got serious. This was a record setting winter for snowfall. Snow only falls when temperatures are near freezing, and not when it’s much below. The many days it snowed, meant many days of higher than normal temperatures, so less freezing on the river. In addition, snow insulates the ground and ice, thus making ice and water more insulated from the cold. Despite January being extremely cold in the Copper River Basin area, the river wasn’t freezing up fast enough. February came with snowmachine trap lines being abandoned due to snow and ice conditions, and open water all over the Copper River. We had all our eggs in one basket, and if we couldn’t snowmachine to the drainage we needed to get to, we wouldn’t be able to hunt.

I spoke with Ryan many times in February, both of us trying to figure out what the other was going to do. Ryan was a great source of intel as he was basically driving there and talking to many local residents on a weekly basis. The weekend before we were planning to go, Ryan headed down to check out the river, and likely hunt if the conditions were right. He decided to charter a scouting flight to get a good feel for what was going on with the river. He gave me a call after and let me know the river looked like it just froze over in a couple places, but nobody has been on it yet, and if we were planning to snowmachine to the Chet, we would be the first to do so (THAT wasn’t happening). He said the only way to really get to the bison was likely to pay a hefty fee to be flown in, especially since they saw many bison along the river in different areas (since the snow was so deep in the mountains, it pushed them to the river). Ryan said he was planning to start his fly in hunt later in the week and would let us know how he did.

It was at that time we had a decision to make… either snowmachine in on an extremely dangerous river that we have never explored or know how to safely navigate, fly in, or cancel. The first option was out of the question at this point, the second option was always thought to be out of reach due to being cost prohibitive, and the third option was a tough pill to swallow. After much deliberation and discussion between Danielle and myself, we decided to spend some money toward a safe and memorable experience.

It was less than 5 days before our hunt, and I had to completely change plans. I already had the camper on the truck and snowmachines loaded with all the gear we needed to venture, live, and hunt in the wild. I had to abandon nearly 90% of the gear and switch everything to accommodate flying in on a tiny cub and hunting by foot. Not only did I have to unpack from a hunt we never went on, I had to pack and plan for a hunt I have never done before (fly in winter hunt)…. All within a few days (outside of work and daily stuff). This was extremely stressful, but I did it.  

Two days prior to our hunt, Ryan sent a text of him with his harvested bison! He didn’t provide many details other than he killed it on an island on the river and it was difficult to do solo. We would chat later, but sounded very similar to what we could expect…. That got us very excited!

The night before our scheduled fly in date (February 17), we spoke with the pilot about the plan, weather, needs, etc. Weather looked pretty good the next coupe of days. We would likely be able to fly all day the next day, so we decided the first person would go in on a scouting trip and decide where to hunt, then the next person and loads would meet them. It would be important to ideally drop a bison relatively quickly because nasty weather was predicted to roll in a couple days later, which would mean the inability to be picked up for about 4-5 days until it blew over. We may be able to be moved to a different spot immediately before the storm, but we needed to anticipate hunkering down for a while.

Day 1

We were up at 6AM. I already had the truck packed so we rolled out shortly after downing breakfast. My body was hurting from staying up late the past few nights preparing for the hunt (I only got a couple hours of sleep each night) and it decided to punish me with a migraine. I was unable to drive so Danielle took the wheel while I tried to sleep it off.

We got to Chuck’s house at 10AM. He has an amazing place with his own large hanger, private strip, beautiful house, and land overlooking the Copper River. He had gear laying out from Ryan and other hunters that used it. He offered us a small wood stove, which I was hesitant to take, since I love my propane stove, however, knowing we may get stuck for a week in subzero temps, there would be no way to refill the propane if it ran out, so we happily accepted the wood stove to heat our tent on this hunt.

We decided I would be the rider for the first plane, getting a good feel for what the terrain looked like, where the bison were, planning a camp spot from the air, and figuring out a plan prior to landing. We then loaded up the cub with essential gear (in case I got stuck without further loads being able to get to me). The plan while we were in the air was for Danielle to drive to the Copper Center airport where she would unpack the rest of the truck and fly in with the remaining gear, leaving the truck there.

I jumped in the cub, smashing into a ball of lanky appendages and layers of warmth. Chuck got behind the wheel and we were in the air shortly after, waving goodbye to Danielle.

We headed south, following the river. Our mission was to locate bison. Chuck had a good idea of where a few were from flying the river a couple times the week prior. During our scouting flight, we saw 6 different potential bison hunting opportunities… four different solo bulls, a group of 14, and a group of four bulls. We also saw many side hills littered with tracks and recent feeding digs.

Past all the bison activity, we made our way to the Chetislina River drainage… where we were planning to snow machine in to. To my surprise, there wasn’t a single bison track anywhere. That drainage was completely void of bison and by the looks of it, no bison were ever there over the entire winter. I also noticed a severe lack of ice on the Copper River below the drainage. Seeing both of these things made me happy about our decision to fly in… if we escaped death from snowmachining in on the river, we would have been hunting a bison that didn’t exist.

We turned around to head back toward the bison hunting options. We decided to try and get a good look at the group of 4 bison Chuck knew were hanging out near the river. They were hard to see, but we eventually saw a couple of them hiding under the spruce trees.  The two bulls I saw were massive, and this got me excited to hunt. I quickly took tons of aerial photos so I could reference them later during our hunt.

We decided the best approach would be to camp on  the south side of an island about a mile south of where the bison were. It was likely they wouldn’t go too far before the next day, and they were on the South bank of another drainage emptying into the Copper River. Although the drainage was frozen, they likely wouldn’t go that direction if they did move.

We circled the island a couple times to pick out a good camping spot. Chuck spotted a good landing area and dropped the plane perfectly smooth, and then proceeded to move along the deep snow for a few hundred yards until we got up to the trees. This is where we would setup camp for the first part of the hunt.

We quickly unloaded the plane in the snow, then Chuck took off to go get Danielle. I was pleasantly surprised to see that I had cell service, so I let Danielle know he was on his way to get her. Meanwhile, I shuttled all the gear from the drop area, over to the trees.

You can’t tent on top of the snow, so I had to start digging out 4 feet of snow for our tent. The area I had to dig was about 6 feet by 12 feet. The part that made this difficult was the lack of a shovel… it was on the second load. So, using just my hands, I dug our tent area. This was not fun!

By the time Danielle arrived, I was nearly done digging. I took a break to help unload the plane and shuttle the rest of the gear over. By the time I got to the plane, Chuck had most of it emptied already. This is where he really impressed me. This guy had to be about 65+ and he was still as strong as an ox and very nimble/ flexible. Obviously he was an amazing pilot too; Chuck was a living legend.

It was also at this point that I realized I packed way too much. Somehow Chuck was able to get it all on two planes with both of us, but I still managed to over pack. I was planning for a 10 day survival situation, with the possibility of ice rescues and mountain climbing… I needed lots of stuff (that I never used)!

Chuck reiterated that if we don’t shoot one by tomorrow (Sunday) and extraction before Monday midday, we may be out here a while since wind was moving in late Monday and likely wouldn’t let up until Friday. That sounded amazing to drop a bison so quickly, but we weren’t getting our hopes up. Chuck wished us luck, and then he left us to be alone on the island 😊

You are not allowed to hunt the same day you fly into your hunting area. Because of this, we weren’t in a hurry to chase the bison. We wish we could see them from camp to make sure we knew where they went to sleep for the night, but we didn’t want to risk being spotted and spooking them out completely. As a result, we focused our time on establishing a camp spot that would hold us for the week. I continued working on the tent area, which was easier now that I had a shovel. Danielle got busy collecting and cutting firewood.

Our tenting spot would easily hold us for extreme weather. We were setup on the ground, with 4 feet walls of snow on each side of us, tucked tightly against a wooded area to our North. The only problem that could potentially occur would be the drifting of fresh snow over top of us if it dumped and then blew north. The chances of that were small, but there was nothing that could be done to avoid it. We also noticed that we were setup next to an old bison trail with bison poop and “wallows” (This was Danielle’s favorite and most frequently used word on the trip) about 10 yards away headed toward an opening in the trees.

We used an Artic Oven Pipeline for this hunt, and it was the first time using it in the field. The cots we brought were too big, and after putting them in the tent with the stove, there was only a couple inches of free space for other things (including our bodies). We arranged and rearranged the inside many times, never really getting things to fit nicely. With all the things I overpacked, I didn’t bring a large enough tent to hold everything… some items had to stay outside.

Heat was a priority and we knew that if we were going to be stuck here, we needed to stock pile plenty of wood for hunkering down. I emptied the Action Packer and we used that as a place to store dry wood (and hopefully fit in the tent). I was on sawing duty and Danielle was on collection and tinder duty. We then spent the remaining ours of daylight on wood collection until it was too dark to see.

It got significantly colder after the sun set, so we fired up the stove with our newly collected fuel. We settled into our tent for the night, getting things ready for the next day. We planned our route by looking at the GPS and aerial photos, deciding which gear we would take and what items to leave behind (which was mostly everything).  After we were ready for the next morning, we decided dinner and a movie would be a good end to the night so we cooked our freeze dried meals and watched a film on my phone while we ate.

It wasn’t long before we were so hot from the stove that we had to strip off clothes and open the door/ vents in order to breath. The little wood stove was powerful, but it was short lived too, requiring constant feeding to keep heat pumping (this would translate into waking up every 1 to 2 hours all night to restart the stove). The good thing about its power was the ability to melt snow. A 2-gallon pot filled with water fit nicely on the stove… by morning, it had about 1 gallon of water in it with flecks and shrubbery floaters from trees and plant debris.

We packed subzero sleeping bags in case we were unable to get heat from the stove for some reason. Danielle was using a military surplus artic sleeping system, and I was using Kevin’s -35 degree Cabelas bag. I purchased a Wiggy’s sleeping bag prior to the hunt, but it got delayed and never arrived prior to us leaving. This was the first time Danielle slept in her bag (which she passed out instantly in), and she absolutely loved it, calling it her new favorite sleeping bag. I couldn’t sleep in my bag since it was too hot with the stove on, but really, I wouldn’t be able to tell when the stove was going out if I slept inside the warm bag all night. Instead, I slept on top of my bag so the chill of a dying stove would wake me before the stove went completely out, allowing me to start it up quicker and not from scratch. 

I’m unsure what time we finally went to sleep, but I set my watch alarm for 6:30AM, with the goal of being ready to leave the tent sometime prior to 8:30, with twilight allowing us to see enough to move around.

Day 2

It dropped to about 10 degrees overnight, which was actually warmer than I expected, and above average for this area… I wasn’t complaining though!

We woke up excited to start hunting! Danielle got her coffee ready, I slammed a warm protein drink, we mixed a thermos of soup, and filled an insulated growler of warm water to drink. We gathered our clothes, warmers, food, and hunting gear… and exited the warmth of our tent.

We were greeted with huge flakes of snow falling from the sky. It wasn’t blizzard conditions, but still resulted in low visibility, although very peaceful and gentle. It was about 25 degrees so our approach would likely find us battling a line of being too hot from activity vs too cold from the falling snow.

We brought skis to use on the hunt knowing snowshoes and post holing would likely be terrible options. Our friend Beki let us barrow her Mountain Ascent skis and we recently got a pair of Solomon approach skis as well. My feet were too big to use the Solomon’s, so I strapped the Mountain Ascent to my feet while Danielle got the new pair. Both sets were about half the length and 1.5 times the width of regular skis, allowing different shoe sizes and various boot use, and they had permanent skins (think carpet that is smooth going in one direction and rough going the other direction) attached to the bottoms. These worked perfectly for slow sliding through the soft powder while navigating around trees and other obstacles.

Although we had skis on, navigating was still very difficult due to the depth of the snow (but way easier compared to not having them). We tried to stay on bison trails as much as possible. The trails weren’t snow free by any means though, they were simply peg holes in the snow with belly drags. Bison aren’t the tallest animals, so when they walk through deep snow, their bellies drag. This packs the snow a bit, but their slow movement also allows for heat transfer and slow melting of the top layer of snow from their bellies too. All of this makes following an old bison trail easier than creating a new route on untouched snow. The only problem following a bison is that they love to move from tree to tree since the base of trees have relatively less snow. Unfortunately for us, we were floating well above the height of a bison and tree branches didn’t allow us to follow under or near trees.

We quickly realized that we wore too many layers. Skiing was hard work and sweating soon followed, resulting in the need to shed clothes. For me, it was too hot to wear a stocking cap or hood, so I let the snow hit my head, which quickly resulted in frozen hair. Moving through the snow also made us realize how difficult it was to stay quiet. The snow wasn’t crunchy, but the surroundings were eerily silent.

We started in the meadow of the island near our campsite. Our planned route was to ski through that, then head directly east to where the river separates the mainland. From here, it would be about ¾ of a mile to where the bison were the day prior. There were some openings between the two locations, but the snow would make it impossible to see very far at all. We also had the option of crossing there (if safe) and walking the river edge all the way toward where they were, but again, the openings where we would need to stop and watch for bison were no longer an option. Instead, we stuck to our original plan of staying on the outside of the island (west side) and walking north to the top of the island, where we would be directly across the river from the bison. This plan assumed the bison didn’t move, and that there would be a good shooting lane with good enough visibility (low odds for all of that).

We cleared the meadow area and then weaved in and out of trees toward the river for our first glance at the ice conditions and the mainland area. It was still heavily snowing and we could barely see the trees across the river 25 yards away, let alone up the river toward where the bison were last. The river ice looked dicey, but doable in certain areas, although overflow and open water were seen in many places. We had no fear being seen, so we went out on a sand bar for a little ways skiing north to a slew area from the island that showed a potential path to the west side of the island. We took that slew after being out in the open for about 10 minutes, knowing the next time we saw the main land area, it would hopefully hold bison.

A moose had the same idea as us a few days prior. As we got deeper into the island, the drainage started petering out. We began to get choked by plants from both sides and large trees that fell across our intended route. Eventually, we had to abandon our path and go through thick trees and deep snow toward the west side of the island. I was using my phone with satellite imagery to show us exactly where we were going up until this point, however, once we got deep in the trees, I lost cell service. We were now skiing blind, but I knew the direction we needed to go and it wasn’t much further until we were at the west side of the island. It was still snowing heavily so all we could see were thick trees for about 30 yards. If it was clear out, we would be able to tell how far away the edge of either side of the island was at any given time.

As we labored through the trees for more than an hour, we finally saw a clearing ahead of us. On the west side of the island, the land across from wide river was a steep cliff about 500 yards high… this is what I was looking for on the other side of the clearing. I quickly became confused when I noticed the river was only a stream and I didn’t see the expected cliff face through the clearing. The land across from the water appeared to be at the same elevation as us too. We were about 10 yards to the tree break as I was trying to process our location, when all of a sudden, I spotted faint movement directly across the water from us… it was a bison! I turned around and told Danielle and she couldn’t believe it either. Apparently, my navigating without a GPS or map was terrible and we did a huge circle. I didn’t know it at the time, but we were only 200 yards up from where we initially poked out on the east side and dove in to the slew.

Danielle quickly unstrapped from her skis and got to the tree line. At this point, the bison already passed us and was moving quickly along the river edge further away. Danielle popped out of the trees along our bank and setup the rifle on trekking sticks to try and get a shot. There was brush everywhere and a clear shot wasn’t possible. Fortunately, the bison decided to stop along the bank and graze. This gave Danielle a chance to grab the sticks and make her way closer. It was impossible to be quiet or stay out of site at this point, although the thick snow made visibility blurry and likely deafening for the bison too.

Danielle paralleled the tree line and river for 15 yards as she made her way to a better position without obstructions. At this point, Danielle was about 30 yards away from the bison and I was about 50 yards away still in the tree line. My visibility was poor, and Danielle’s was likely terrible with water on her scope lens and flying snow blocking her view (and her inability to use her prescription glasses). For Danielle, the combination of deep snow, blurred vision, a wet scope, flying snow, a sweating body, a pounding heart rate, an uneven tripod, and a rifle she has never shot before… she was in a difficult situation… the 30 yards definitely helped compensate for these though.

I was watching intently, barely able to see the bison and Danielle, waiting to hear a loud boom. And then, I heard the most beautiful sound…. BANG! The bison dropped immediately! Danielle quickly reloaded knowing these are tough animals and may need more rounds. It flailed a little , but never got up… it was down for the count right on the riverbank.

As we were celebrating the shot, yelling back and forth to each other, we noticed some movement upriver from us. Low and behold, it was another bison, slowly trotting along the river edge, following the same path the recently shot bison was on. He didn’t care the rifle recently went off, or that we were whooping and hollering about the dropped animal… he moved along on his path toward wherever he was headed. When it got closer to us, we realized that this guy was an absolute monster compared to the bison Danielle just shot. At this time, we were certain we dropped the youngest bull of the 4 in the group. We don’t regret shooting the bison and waiting for a bigger/ more mature one, because we had no idea where the others were or even the comparative size of the dead one due to the difficult visibility. Regardless, this is typical of hunts with Danielle; often she shoots an animal and then shortly later a massive one comes to check out the activity. The bruiser bison eventually walked up to the dead bison, smelled it, realized what happened, and sprinted off into the woods.

Once we were satisfied the bison wasn’t moving, we gathered our stuff and looked for a safe way to cross the river. I took the lead and found a solid path about a half mile upriver with a couple sandbars in between. We were able cross and ski along the bison’s recent trail, directly to the kill site.

The bison wasn’t a small bull at all; it was actually an old cow. Danielle spined her, which explains the reason she dropped and never moved. A bison spine is actually not at the top of their back and drops quite a bit below their hump. This combined with the fact the rifle is sighted in to be a couple inches high at 200 yards and the other factors at play, explains the impact site. It was a great location though, wasting very little meat.

We did our standard praying over our harvest, thanking the bison for their life and praising God for the opportunity and experience. We then took many pictures to help immortalize the memory. The task ahead of us was a big one, but somehow the bison fell in a perfectly cleared/ clean spot on the river, the snow decided to stop falling, the sun came out, and it was warm enough to not need gloves while cutting. Because of this, we took our sweet time field dressing.

At one point we ran out of water from the insulated growler (which was still warm somehow, but kept the water from freezing). We knew we had lots of hard work left and needed water badly for the many hours of sweat to come. Luckily, there was open water from the river next to us. I carefully creeped out to it and filled the growler with Copper River water. Luckily, in the winter, the silt is basically nonexistent, and we drank to our hearts’ content.

I was in charge of cutting while Danielle held/ bagged meat and pulled hide. We worked great together, taking breaks often and enjoying the moment. We dressed the bison well into darkness, but we were prepared with our headlights. As I was finishing up, Danielle built a small fire next to us. She grabbed a spare piece of meat and cooked it over the fire to both keep her warm and get us some hot food. It wasn’t the best cut to fire grill due to toughness, but it was awesome to eat some fresh meat.

We weren’t able to communicate with Chuck to figure out if it was possible to pick up the meat close by without having to take it all the way back to camp, so I assumed there was enough landing space on a sandbar we used to cross the river. We then proceeded to pack meat to the bank next to the sandbar for the rest of the night. I put the meat in contractor bags to keep them protected from the environment, critters, and moisture. This also allowed me to bury the meat in snow to keep it cold on all sides (it wouldn’t freeze either if buried, since snow would insulate it from the bitter cold if temps dropped too much).

On one of the later loads out, I had the entire bison hide and skull on my back, the heaviest load of all of them. The skis were working perfectly, until this amount weight on one ski found a hole under the boot area with both the tip and tail touching snow… the ski snapped under the weight! I fell instantly and struggled to get out of the deep snow. I had to take the skis off and post hole the rest of the way to the drop spot; with 100+ pounds on my back, this was absolutely terrible. After the drop, I was able to put on both the intact ski and the broken one with a missing tip. I could move fairly well without any weight on my back, breaking through the already packed down trail every 4^th or 5^th stride. Once I got back to Danielle at the kill site, I shared the bad news. We still had a few loads to go, so we had to switch skis since I would finish the heavy loads. I was just barely able to strap the Solomons on, and Danielle was forced to use the broken ones from now on, ending her packing contribution.

I ended up falling hard many times with these new skis. They were waxed and slicker than Beki’s skis, with less skin surface area. Falling was comical at first, but grew old very fast. We eventually got everything to the potential landing site by 10PM and let the pilot know we needed extraction the next day. We then headed back to our camp, taking about 45 minutes with me on the new, dangerous skis and Danielle using the broken ones basically post holing most of the time.

We were pooped! We got the stove lit, made some freeze dried meals, ate some junk food, downed electrolytes, and passed out. We had to get up early the next day to beat the afternoon winds rolling in.

In the middle of the night, the stove stopped working effectively and started to bellow smoke into the tent. The smoke was so bad it was burning my eyes and scorching my throat. I was unable to fix the issues and didn’t have the energy to mess with it. I decided to open the doors to get the smoke cleared and stop feeding the stove. Sleeping in the cold was now a better option then choking on smoke all night… we stayed nice and warm in our sleeping bags.

Day 3

6AM came early, and at 7AM it was confirmed with a text that Chuck was on his way soon. This was great news and meant we would not be stuck for the 5-6 day storm headed this way. We were now in a race to tear down everything and pack as quick as possible.

It may be gross to mention, but I have to put it here so Danielle remembers… between the hustle and bustle of packing up, I somehow onloaded the longest poop of my life, easily over 14”. It was one of those poops that you have to share with someone and Danielle could not believe it came out of me… even with her big expectations from my poops already!

We spotted Chuck’s plane as we were finishing up packing and putting away the tent. Danielle and a load of gear went in the first plane. She would be dropped off at the Copper Center airport near the truck and instructed to drive to Shawn’s house (Chuck’s friend) on Willow Lake to meet us for the next two loads. It wasn’t long before Chuck was back, this time for the meat. He picked me up and we scouted the sand bar I thought would suffice. Thankfully it ended up being sufficient, and we were able to land right next to the meat. We then proceeded to load the plane with the bison. I was impressed with how much Chuck could carry, easily acting like a guy half his age.

I had my doubts, but it all fit in the plane! There was no room for me, so I was left behind again while the meat was transported out. There was always a possibility of Chuck not being able to return, so I was thankful to see him return for the last load out. He picked me up and we landed next to our tenting site to load up the remainder of the gear. It all fit and we were off the ground shortly after landing. It only took about 10 minutes to ride to Willow Lake, but in that time, the winds started to pick up and would only intensify the later it got… we got out just in time!

After landing on Willow Lake, we loaded our gear back into the truck and chatted for a while about our adventure. We then parted ways for the long drive back home. Of course, we had to stop at Tok Thai on the way home to fill our bellies 😊 We attempted to get the bison sealed at ADFG in Glennallen, but they were closed.

As we strolled into town, it was night and day different. It was a warm 38 degrees in valley with snow melting everywhere and mud covering anything that moved. Before we went home, we dropped off the bison hide and skull at the taxidermist. We then returned home to kids and Mom happy to see us back 6 days early.

We then spent the next few days processing the bison, high on the success of our hunt. It was a short hunt, but definitely one of the most memorable!

* We felt terrible for breaking one of Beki’s skis that we borrowed. Litle did we know, these skis are discontinued, extremely hard to find, and a very cherished item of Beki’s. Without telling her I broke a ski, we inquired about possibly buying them, which she promptly declined due to her unique snowboarding needs. This left me with no other option but to find a pair to buy, so I scoured the internet for 50+ hours trying to find them. After calling the discontinued business owner, messaging every person that ever interacted with their Facebook page, and digging deep into any and every classifieds website across the United States, I finally found a pair in Washington DC I was able to buy. I then “returned” the skis to Beki, which were actually the replacements, along with the story of how they broke and how I was able to find another pair. She was initially saddened but stoked I was able to get her a replacement pair! dzs fsd f

** A couple months later, this exact tag was auctioned off to the highest bidder at a sportsmans' association banquet for $25,000! 

Chuck doesn't fly anywhere without his rifle.

These cubs are not meant for tall guys. I had absoluately no room to move. 

The river was gorgeous. 

And tied to his other wing are a set of snowshoes. 

This was a solo bull on the river. He was a smaller bull, and kind of skinny. He would have been an easy kill since he wasn't really moving far for many days. We passed on pursuing him because he looked malnurished. 

Another solo bull was cruising the creeks in this area. 

A large group of cows, bulls, and calves were along the hillside grazing. You can see where they dig on the sloped hill to reach grass in the winter. These guys were on native land. 

Another solo bull roaming the shallow snow along the river. 

At the end of of scouting trip down river, we came across many wolves walking this ridge. It's hard to see them in the picture, but they wore a solid path into the ridge. There was a carcus (likely a moose) at the base of the ridge where they kept frequenting. 

This was the river conditions directly below the Chetislina... definately not safe to ride snow machines on!

Here are two bulls of the group of four we decided to pursue. They were hanging out around the base of these river trees for quite a while. 

Here is a roomed out view the area the bulls were on. You can see our island at the bottom of the picture. 

I was nearly finished digging our tent floor area when Chuck arrived with a second load of items. 

Well isn't she the prettiest lumberjack ever!?

Our fire wood we cut, ready for the stove

Here is what the inside of the tent looked like.

And here is the outside of the tent. 

Hunting morning... Danielle poses for a picture in the meadow next to our tent. 

Danielle is catching up as I lead the way into the slew I thought would take us to the other side of the island. 

Danielle already shot the bison here; she is simply holding the crossairs on it in case it decides to get up and try to run away. 

Danielle decided to get even closer while she was waiting for a confirmation the bison wasn't going to run away. She is on a sandbar here about 15 yards away from the bison. 

Danielle is following me as we move up river looking for a place to safely cross. 

Punching the tag!

I think Danielle was taking pictures of me as I tested the river by going across first.

Danielle is now leading the way in order to be the first one with her kill. 

The first of many picures... 

This is Danielle's favorite bison picture since it shows the key tools that made the hunt successful. 

Cutting by the fire.

This is our meat shuttling path we took many times to move the meat to a better landing spot location. 

It's a beautiful morning to be picked up. 

Our chariot arrives!

There was cool lighting to catch Chuck as he left with our first load. 

This entire bison fit in the back of the plane. 

Chuck is the man!

And again, zoomed out to get his plane in the picture. 

And here are our spoils!

This video shows the struggle and difficulty the snow and our initial position resulted in. Fortuantely, the bison found a great patch of grass that anchored it for a long period of time. (Ignore the last 15 seconds of errant recording)

Warning - this is the kill shot video. You can see how poor the visibility was. 

And here is the big bull that came after the kill shot. Danielle is watching the downed bison to make sure it doesn't move.