Last weekend, I went on my second successful caribou hunt. This year wasn't nearly as dicey as last year when it was warm and the ice was melting. However, it was still quite a trip. Especially, since I was a little more on my own than last time.
I went out with a group of about five snowmobiles. We started from Birch Hill at about 11am and headed towards the mud hut and eventually to Three Step Mountain. The ride was pretty good, just enough snow, and pretty smooth till the mud hut. However, the closer you get to Three Step, the paths are not as good and you have to go over the tussocks on the tundra. We had heard and eventually found a large herd of caribou behind and to the left of Three Step.
I don't know how many caribou there were in the herd before it dispersed, chased by the hunters on snowmobiles. Maybe a couple hundred? At first it broke into two large groups running in opposite directions. Then as we chased, they broke into smaller and smaller groups. I was following someone, but then worried that I was affecting their hunt. So, I looked around and decided to chase one of the few groups that I could still see.
I couldn't go very fast because of the tussocks. I would give chase on the smaller group till I would be about a hundred yards out or so. Then I would turn my machine off to hopefully not spook them as much as I would get ready to take a shot. However, that didn't seem to help as they would start trotting off immediately. So, I would catch up again and not turn my machine off and then throw my gun up to get a shot. The first few times I was too hesitant and would watch the caribou I had in my sights show me its butt and start running away. I finally got the point where I said to myself, "Ride up and get close. Keep the machine one. If you get something resembling a shot, take it because you are heading farther and farther out onto the tundra away from the group".
So I finally, I got close, threw up my gun and shot. I took down a young bull with the first shot, but he was only wounded. I took some more shots, only aiming for the head because I didn't want to waste the meat. I hit him twice in the head. The last did the trick.
I was far from the group and it didn't occur to me that I should just pull the whole caribou into my sled and meet up with the others. I wish I had. That is what all the Yup'ik did. They took their kills down to a frozen pond with clean snow to skin and quarter them. Here I was far off worried, that they didn'tk now where I was, rushing through the skinning, gutting, and quartering.
We eventually made it back to the village probably after 6pm. It was a lot of fun, but also pretty stressful. I am surprised that my snowmobile (a '91 Polaris 440) didn't come back in pieces from the ride out on the tussocks. I also didn't fancy leaving the sight of the Yup'ik that I was hunting with. While I was cleaning the caribou, I was imagining being left behind and being found by Search and Rescue. I have been thinking about investing in GPS.

