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 4th or 5th 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!
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