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SPORTING JOURNAL Volume 9 • Issue 4 www.aksportingjournal.com PUBLISHER James R. Baker ASSOCIATE PUBLISHER Dick Openshaw GENERAL MANAGER John Rusnak EXECUTIVE EDITOR Andy Walgamott EDITOR Chris Cocoles WRITERS Paul D. Atkins, Christopher Batin, Tony Ensalaco, Scott Haugen, Tiffany Haugen, Jeff Lund, Mike Lunde, Eva Shockey SALES MANAGER Katie Higgins ACCOUNT EXECUTIVES Nancy Ekse, Mamie Grifﬁn, Garn Kennedy, Mike Smith, Paul Yarnold PRODUCTION MANAGER Sonjia Kells DESIGNERS Sam Rockwell, Jake Weipert WEB DEVELOPMENT/INBOUND MARKETING Jon Hines PRODUCTION ASSISTANT Kelly Baker OFFICE MANAGER/ACCOUNTS Audra Higgins ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT Katie Sauro INFORMATION SERVICES MANAGER Lois Sanborn ADVERTISING INQUIRIES media@media-inc.com ON THE COVER Eva Shockey had the ultimate organic wedding menu for her guests: this moose she successfully harvested in the Yukon. In Shockey’s new book, Taking Aim, she shares stories of two hunts in Alaska’s Aleutian Islands.

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(SHOCKEY ENTERPRISES)

MEDIA INDEX PUBLISHING GROUP WASHINGTON OFFICE 14240 Interurban Ave South • Suite 190 Tukwila, WA 98168 (206) 382-9220 • Fax (206) 382-9437 media@media-inc.com • www.media-inc.com OREGON OFFICE 8116 SW Durham Rd • Tigard, OR 97224 CORRESPONDENCE Twitter @AKSportJourn Facebook.com/alaskasportingjournal Email ccocoles@media-inc.com

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CONTENTS

VOLUME 9 • ISSUE 4

ALMOST PARADISE

Alaskans know how wild and exciting outdoor adventures in the Last Frontier can be. Fishing and hunting excursions bring opportunities to experience epic catches and harvests. But sometimes trips are a series of “almosts,” a tease our Arctic sportsman Paul Atkins endured during runs up the Kobuk and Noatak Rivers that included hunting near-misses but also northern pike in the net. (PAUL D. ATKINS)

FEATURES

ALL ABOUT EVA Eva Shockey has the bloodlines (joining her TV personality dad Jim on many hunting trips around North America and beyond) and the passion for the outdoors to make her and hunting a perfect match. Shockey, now married to former pro hockey player Tim Brent and mother to infant daughter Leni Bow, wrote about her eventful trips to the Aleutians in an excerpt of her new book, Taking Aim. We also chatted with Shockey about her love of hunting. WHAT HAPPENS HERE STAYS HERE Everyone has that “secret spot,” whether it produces trophy steelhead or big bucks. Jeff Lund’s favorite Southeast Alaska mountain doesn’t always yield the deer he’s after. But it’s his special place and he wants everyone to know about it (well, within reason). THE BEARDED BUFFOONS Poor Tony Ensalaco. Enroute to a Southeast Alaska river, our correspondent ran into what looked like a pretty hardcore crew of steelheaders, and being a newb he ﬁshed around for some advice from them. But on the water, well, let’s just say they might have been more well versed in aluminum than heavy metal.

103 EGG-CELLENT TROUT FISHING When pink salmon spawn in rivers like the Susitna, not all their eggs go into the gravel – some end up in the stomachs of hungry rainbow trout. Find out how to tap into this ﬁshing opportunity with a tutorial on ﬁshing beads from Mike Lunde.

ALSO IN THIS ISSUE 49 57 95 117

4 keys for buying binoculars Why mountain goats torment hunters Montana family’s Alaska ﬁshing adventure Three Ketchikan lodges cater to anglers’ dream trips

DEPARTMENTS 17 19 19 35 43 115

The Editor’s Note Protecting Wild Alaska: Muskox illegally shot, then abandoned Outdoor calendar From Field to Fire: North Slope caribou; grilling the perfect steak New feature! Big Game Chronicles – hunting Dall sheep Fly of the Month: Salmon ﬂesh pattern

Alaska Sporting Journal is published monthly. Call Media Inc. Publishing Group for a current rate card. Discounts for frequency advertising. All submitted materials become the property of Media Inc. Publishing Group and will not be returned. Annual subscriptions are $29.95 (12 issues) or $39.95 (24 issues). Send check or money order to Media Inc. Publishing Group, 14240 Interurban Ave South, Suite 190, Tukwila, WA 98168 or call (206) 382-9220 with VISA or M/C. Back issues may be ordered at Media Inc. Publishing Group, subject to availability, at the cost of $5 plus shipping. Copyright © 2017 Media Inc. Publishing Group. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be copied by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording by any information storage or retrieval system, without the express written permission of the publisher. Printed in U.S.A. 12

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EDITOR’S NOTE

Correspondent Tony Ensalaco during a peaceful, productive day on a Southeast Alaska steelhead river. Unfortunately, sometimes you run into obnoxious anglers. (TONY ENSALACO)

orrespondent Tony Ensalaco reminds us all this month that the luck of the draw means you might just be sharing a steelhead-filled river in a gorgeous and remote corner of Alaska with a bunch of buffoons. Ensalaco’s story on page 73 is about how, during a flight delay in Juneau, he met a bunch of bearded fellows who looked the part of elite steelhead anglers. They ended up being loud, drunk and uncoordinated when Ensalaco encountered them again on the river. Awkward. Fortunately, I’ve been pretty lucky to avoid anyone like that while sharing fishing waters over the years. Oh sure, there have been some annoying kids throwing rocks, presumably scaring away trout from the shore. I’ve seen beer cans tossed into lakes, watched as some teenagers hilariously kept casting into each other’s lines and then argued about it, and tried to ignore parents scolding their little ones for getting into mischief. (Hell, I’ve been on the end of one of those tongue lashings when I was a little squirt.) But unfortunately, it’s just a matter of time before you’ll find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time and run into That Guy or That Gal. When I had a weekday off years ago, I went to a movie theater to watch a matinee and had almost the whole place to myself. That is, until a couple sat a few rows behind me and continued talking as the flick began. OK, I’ve dealt with that before, but as the great Ron Burgundy once pontificated, “That escalated quickly.” Clearly these two were a little buzzed, and the chatter turned into a full-blown trainwreck. I can’t remember how many times the man threatened to leave his sweetheart behind (essentially, I was watching a horror film on the screen with a B-movie spoof playing behind me). To his credit, he apologized to me as I was leaving the theater, but the damage had been done. I’d like to think everyone you run into on the water will be respectful to others sharing the fishing hole. But as Ensalaco found out, storing an extra set of earplugs in your tackle box isn’t a bad idea in case you have to break that glass in the event of an emergency. -Chris Cocoles aksportingjournal.com | SEPTEMBER 2017

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MEN KILLED MUSK OX ILLEGALLY;

MUCH OF MEAT WASTED

PROTECTING

WILD ALASKA

BY CHRIS COCOLES

uskox are one of Alaska’s gentle giants and provide hunters with a lot of freezer-filling meat. So it’s aggravating when not only are they killed illegally but their valuable bounty abandoned. The Alaska Department of Fish and Game spent more than a year investigating a grisly March 2016 discovery. The remains of three female musk ox were found near the headwaters of the Colville River, located about 170 miles northwest of Kotzebue in the state’s Arctic region. The animals were shot multiple times and the carcasses left to waste. A skinned wolverine was also found in the same spot two weeks later. Three suspects were investigated, all of Wainwright, Alaska: Thomas “TJ” Tazruk, Billy Bodfish, and Willie Bodfish were charged with killing the muskox out of season and failing to salvage the meat from the animals. “During the course of the investigation

Remains of two of the three illegally shot muskox discovered in a remote area of Northwest Alaska. All but one hindquarter of the meat was wasted. Three men who admitted to the crimes were punished. (ALASKA STATE TROOPERS)

it was also revealed that the defendants had stolen aviation fuel from a remote cache used by the Alaska Department of Fish and Game and the National Park Service while they conducted a game survey in the area,” an Alaska State Troopers press release stated. “Troopers learned through interviews with the defendants that they killed the three muskox with the intent to use the mostly unsalvaged ani-

mals as bait for easily tracking and killing wolves and wolverines.” On June 25, the defendants plead guilty to one count apiece of killing the animals during a closed season and a count each of not salvaging the meat (one hindquarter was taken from one of the three muskox). On Aug. 2 during sentencing procedures in Barrow, Tazruk, Billy Bodfish and Willie Bodfish received 30 days in jail that were suspended, a $500 fine ($250 suspended) and they were also ordered to pay restitution totaling $9,000 for the unsaved meat. Their weapons used in the kills were forfeited, and the men were all given one year’s probation. “The Alaska Wildlife Troopers hope this case serves as a deterrent to poachers,” the press release stated. “Cases, regardless of their remoteness, are investigated thoroughly to deter such crimes and protect Alaska’s ﬁsh and wildlife resources.” ASJ

OUTDOOR CALENDAR Sept. 1 Sept. 1 Sept. 1 Sept. 1 Sept. 7-9 Sept. 15 Sept. 15 Sept. 15 Sept. 25 Oct. 1 Oct. 1 Oct. 1

Brown bear season opens in Game Management Unit 5 (Yakutat) Brown bear season opens in GMU 18 (Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta) Muskox season opens in GMU 18 Moose season opens in GMU 6 (North Gulf Coast and Prince William Sound) Kenai River Women’s Classic; krsa.com/ event-detail.php?event=3 Goat season opens in GMU 1 (Southeast Mainland) Moose season opens in GMU 3 (Petersburg-Wrangell) Deer season opens in GMU 4 (Admiralty-Baranof-Chichagof Islands) Elk season opens in GMU 8 (Kodiak; Afognak Island) Elk season opens in GMU 8 (Kodiak-Raspberry Island) Fall brown bear season opens in GMU 9 (Alaska Peninsula) Brown bear season opens in GMU 10 (Aleutians)

Fall brown bear season begins on Sept. 1 in both the Yakutat and Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta Game Management Units, and Oct. 1 on the Alaska Peninsula. (LISA HUPP/USFWS)

Oct. 7 Oct. 15 Oct. 25

Goat season opens in GMU 6 (Cordova) Deer season opens in GMU 3 Fall brown bear season opener in GMU 8

Editor’s note: For more speciﬁc information on hunting regulations, refer to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game’s handbook (adfg.alaska.gov). aksportingjournal.com | SEPTEMBER 2017

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ISLAND HOPPING IN THE ALEUTIANS EVA SHOCKEY’S NEW BOOK CHRONICLES A TRIUMPHANT RETURN TO ALASKA AFTER A BRUSH WITH DEATH Editor’s note: Eva Shockey had hunted in Alaska’s Aleutian Islands before, an experience she would not soon forget. During a 2011 deer hunt on Atka Island. Shockey, her guide and another hunter were riding in an ATV over some treacherous terrain. While climbing a steep incline, the ATV suddenly thrust backward back down the hill, smashing into the other vehicle that was with them and then slipping off a cliff and falling 30 feet below. “I close my eyes, duck my head into my lap, and pray,” Shockey, 29, writes in her new book, Taking Aim, which will be released this month. Nobody was seriously injured, but it was the kind of harrowing incident that would shake even the heartiest adventurer like Shockey, whose TV hunts with her dad, Jim Shockey, have been chronicled throughout North America and beyond. Eva still gets a rush from hunting the globe, and she made a triumphant return to the Aleutians as described in the book. The following excerpt is reprinted from Taking Aim: Daring to Be Different, Happier, and Healthier in the Great Outdoors, copyright 2017 by Eva Shockey. It is published by Convergent, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC. To order, go to amazon.com.

BY EVA SHOCKEY (WITH A.J. GREGORY)

n spring 2013, I caught Dan Goodenow, my boss for about two years now, at just the right moment. He was in the process of booking hunts, and I noticed he had an opening in August – a reindeer hunt on the Aleutian Islands. “How about scheduling me in?” I offered with a sugary-sweet smile. “And here’s a great idea. How about we do something different and turn it into an all-girls hunting trip?” Dan’s stony face perked up. “Now, that’s a thought. But are you sure you want to go back there?” “Are you kidding? It’s time to ﬁnish what we started.” For this trip, I brought along my friend Rachelle, a tall blonde from West Virginia who can disarm anyone with her sweet and sincere personality. Her dad, an avid hunter, died of cancer when she was only 7, so she never got the chance to hunt with him. Rather, Rachelle started hunting when she met her husband, an outﬁtter, and she immediately fell in love with the lifestyle. I also invited Taylor, a young woman with an infectious personality and gorgeous curly hair. I met her at a precision-shooting class years back. Though her dad was a client of ours and hunted all over the world, she was fairly new to the lifestyle.

Eva Shockey (far right) enjoyed a successful “all-girls hunting trip” on Umnak Island in the Aleutians, one of many adventures the TV personality shares in her new book, Taking Aim. (SHOCKEY ENTERPRISES)

The three of us (arrived in) the village of Nikolski, population 18, on the island of Umnak, the third largest island in the Aleutian archipelago. From the start of the trip, the vibe was way different from that of my excursion two years earlier. There’s a stark contrast between hunting with an all-male crew and hunting with your girlfriends. Oh, we were just as serious and hard-core when we needed to be, but when we didn’t, there was a lot more laughing involved. Needless to say, the entire trip was a blast, even though we battled a nonstop wind aksportingjournal.com | SEPTEMBER 2017

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that made the otherwise 40-something-degree weather feel freezing. A two-hour, bumpy-as-expected ride on two ATVs brought us to some gently sloping valleys and grassy rolling hills. I’ll admit, hopping back into the same type of ATV I had crashed in two years earlier brought about the beginnings of a panic attack. I had to talk myself down hysteria lane while we jostled along. It sure helped, though, that, while some of the hills were steep, they were moguls compared to the ones on Atka. When we made our way into reindeer territory, the scenic picture took my breath away. Broad valleys spread out in a blanket of lush ferns. Tall grass swayed rhythmically in the wind. In the distance, snow-capped mountains, one an active volcano, stood guard over the land below. And feeding on alpine moss and tall grass, hundreds upon hundreds of reindeer gathered, their large, smooth, white antlers glinting in the summer sun. On foot, the three of us, along with the guide, crept quietly through the valley, crouched low. Rachelle hunted ﬁrst. After crawling on hands and knees to get closer to the animals we’d seen, then glassing to ﬁnd a bull, we noticed huge antlers in the distance, unmoving and low to the ground. Likely a napping bull, about 500 yards away. As we closed the distance to 200 yards, we saw that we were right. We inched even

Shockey doesn’t shy away from embarking on challenging hunts, and after her neardeath experience the previous time she hunted in Alaska, she vowed to go back and do it right. (MATT ZINIEL)

closer. Finally, the bull stood up. When he turned broadside, Rachelle took the shot, harvesting her ﬁrst reindeer. Two days later, Taylor and I harvested mature bulls within 100 yards of each other on a marshy hillside, with Rachelle there to share the excitement. Our girls’ expedition ended on a high note. For the ﬁrst time, I discovered the unique camaraderie that can unfold with other women in an otherwise male-domi-

Eva’s dad Jim Shockey (right), one of the most respected hunters in the world, helped her realize that the wilderness of Alaska and other destinations was where she had to be. (SHOCKEY ENTERPRISES) 24

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nated field. This marked a turning point in my life. I wanted to proclaim to the world that it was great to be a female hunter, that we weren’t alone, and that there must be many others like us out there. It’s amazing what happens when we face our fears head-on. Opportunities open up. Doors swing open. We find ourselves doing wonderful things that we would have missed had we submitted to our fears. I often think of those experiences in my life that never would have happened had I given up somewhere along the way. If the Atka accident had scared me enough to quit hunting back in 2011, I never would have traveled to Raleigh, North Carolina, a year later, to the hunting expo where I met my future husband. I never would have seen the Northern Lights shining brightly above our campfire in the Yukon. I never would have ventured to New Zealand, Argentina, Spain, and France to hunt some of the most magnificent animals on earth. I never would have embraced the possibilities that streamed under the surface of the unknown, waiting to push through and enter the realm of existence. ASJ Editor’s note: Follow Eva Shockey (EvaShockey.com) on Twitter and Instagram (both @evashockey) and like at Facebook.com/evashockeyfanpage.

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This Yukon Territory moose was not only one of the most exciting hunts of Eva Shockey’s life, but she and her husband Tim Brent served some of this bull’s meat at their 2015 wedding. (SHOCKEY ENTERPRISES)

Q&A

WITH EVA SHOCKEY BY CHRIS COCOLES

e chatted with hunter Eva Shockey about her harrowing ATV accident during her previous trip to the Aleutians, how her famous hunting father Jim helped her back into the outdoor world and serving harvested moose at her wedding to hubbie and hockey player Tim Brent.

Chris Cocoles You’ve had two rather memorable trips to the Aleutians but for different reasons and you talk at length in the book about your ATV accident. How did that brush with serious 26

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injury or even death affect you? Eva Shockey It was deﬁnitely one of those moments where I think it was a turning point; I could have gone two different directions very easily. I could have been scared of what happened, because it was the closest to death that I’ve ever experienced. It was shocking and scary and something that was caused by following my passions and doing something I loved, and it resulted in the experience of almost dying and falling off a cliff [laughs]. That was the time in my life when I had to stop and think, and I could have backed off from hunting and said, “You know what, maybe I’m not meant to do this and I could have easily died. I could go back to dancing and the things that are safe and in my comfort zone.” Or I could have said, “This is something I have to deal with and I need to be as careful as I possibly can and feel safe. But if I don’t follow the things I love, my life won’t be full. It won’t have the meaning that it would have if I followed my passion and heart

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and do what I was meant to do.” The latter is what I ended up choosing. If I walked away that day and said, “OK, I’m going to go back and dance and move back to the city to do what I was doing before,” I would have always regretted it and what if I wouldn’t have kept hunting? And I’m so glad I did.

CC Readers of the book will get a detailed description of what happened on that ATV. Can you give us a quick recap of what was going through your mind when this was happening? ES That whole day riding on that ATV, I just remember feeling a little bit uncomfortable, like something isn’t right here in my gut; I didn’t really know how to put it into words. I wasn’t really sure if it was me being cautious or if it was really something to be concerned about. The whole day I kept thinking, “I don’t feel comfortable with this but the guy who was driving must know what he’s doing. He’s been doing it for a long time.” And I remember going up that hill saying, “He’s got this. He’s got this. He

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can handle this.” And then the second he slammed on the gas when we were losing traction, I realized that we were not in control. Then I was thinking, “He does not have this. He does not have this.” It was almost a guilty feeling that I knew this (would happen) from the moment we started.

CC You called your mom (Louise) in tears right after you realized you were OK. But what role did she and your dad play in realizing you still wanted to continue chasing adventure in the outdoors? ES My dad was away and on a hunt somewhere himself. But when I got back home I did sit down with my dad, and it was a conversation when I had to choose to do what I wanted to do. My mom, not being a hunter and being protective of me, she was deﬁnitely on board with it if I would have walked away that day and stopped hunting; she would have been very happy with that. She would have had a lot less stress in her life [laughs]. But at the same time she supported whatever I chose. And my dad, just to make my mom’s life easier, he probably would have been ﬁne with that too. He knew I was stubborn and a little strong-headed, and if he would have said that I should stop hunting or you should keep hunting, he knew I would have eventually held it over his head. He knows me well enough that I have to make my own decisions. But he walked me through the scenario, and it stuck with me that if I had walked away that day knowing that hunting was a big part of me and a part of what I love – it’s in my soul being out there.

CC When you went back to the Aleutians for the reindeer hunt, were you hesitant at all about going back to an area where you suffered such a major scare and maybe had to get back on an ATV again? ES I don’t remember being apprehensive. I wanted to go back and felt like I need to go back and finish this hunt that I started the first time. Basically I just needed some closure. I never got to show myself that I can do this and I’m not scared of it. The only (nervous) feeling I remember having is it was the first time since I fell off the hill that I’d 28

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“You just don’t get the feeling of it until you’re there – when you’re smelling it and feeling the damp air and seeing the eagles ﬂy by in front of your face,” Shockey says of experiencing her hunt in Alaska. (SHOCKEY ENTERPRISES)

been back on that type of ATV. And I got back on the exact same (type of) vehicle that we rolled off, and that was a little bit nerve-wracking. Still to this day, if I’m on a hill, even in a truck or anything, and we’re going backwards and someone goes a little fast (I get a bit nervous). My husband’s used to this one hill on his parents’ driveway that you back up quite quickly down. And every time it happens my stomach just goes right into my throat, because I get that same feeling of falling down the mountain [laughs]. But I was just happy to be back (in the Aleutians). It reaffirmed that I made the right decision and didn’t walk away from it.

CC I would guess you haven’t ridden a lot

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of backwards roller coasters since then? ES [Laughs] I’m definitely a little more cautious on steep hills or side hills. I’m sure there have been a million situations where I said, “I don’t feel comfortable with this,” and people are looking at me like, “Uh, this isn’t even anything really serious.” It’s been a little bit of an issue. We drive Argos, and they are the most capable off-road vehicles of any. And I know there are a lot of times where I’m thinking, “Oh, this could flip.” And my dad will say, “We’re basically on flat ground” [laughs].

CC Tell me about the Alaskan hunting experience. It can be a magical place, right? ES It really is. It’s a place where the pictures just don’t do it justice. It’s kind of

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like the Yukon [Shockey, a Canadian, is from Vancouver Island in British Columbia]. You just don’t get the feeling of it until you’re there – when you’re smelling it and feeling the damp air and seeing the eagles ﬂy by in front of your face. It’s just something where the hunt itself is cool and the animals are amazing. But I love the trip, because the minute you leave your front door until the minute you walk back through your front door, it’s an adventure. You’re kind of at the will of Mother Nature and it depends on what she feels like doing. And you really just can’t plan for a lot of it. The beauty up there is something that I can’t describe. I wish that everybody could get up there and see with their own eyes and smell it with their own noses. You can’t imagine it until you see it for yourself. When you’re in Alaska, there’s so much going on around you. You deﬁnitely don’t have to be a hunter to like it.

CC Do you plan to or want to go back and hunt in Alaska again? ES I don’t have anything scheduled but I

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Eva (here eight months pregnant with hers and Tim’s daughter Leni) hopes to get back to Alaska, with Tim for what would be his ﬁrst trip. “’I’ve always wanted to go to Kodiak Island,” she says. “So we’re going to have to make that one happens.” (SHOCKEY ENTERPRISES)

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deﬁnitely want to. My husband has never been to Alaska and he’s a big hunter, but in the next few years we would love to get up there. Hopefully we’ll go hunting for moose or bear. I’ve always wanted to go to Kodiak Island and I’ve heard so wonderful things about it. There’s so many things that we want to do, so we’re going to have to make sure that one happens.

CC You and Tim spent some time in Russia (when he played in the country’s Kontinental Hockey League). Did you get to hunt there, and considering how much Russia is in the news these days, what was that experience like? ES I never got to hunt there. My dad’s hunted there a couple times while we lived there, but I was so busy and had a similar travel schedule. I would have liked to hunt there, but it was pretty cold and I kept thinking if really wanted to bear those elements [laughs]. (Living there) was an experience that we would never take back. I wouldn’t say we loved living there, per se, because it was so different from any-

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thing we were used to. But we loved the appreciation for what we have and how spoiled we are here in North America [Eva, Tim and Leni now live in North Carolina]. The Russian lifestyle is a lot different, but it really makes you stop and appreciate each other. (Eva and Tim) were inside a lot and at first we were dating and then we were engaged. I said we were either going to get married after this or not be a couple, but it was an incredible thing for us to do as far as Tim’s job. It’s something that set us up for the future. We met a lot of cool people and we probably never would have done it after we had Leni.

CC OK, I have to know about successfully hunting that moose in the Yukon Territory and serving it at yours and Tim’s wedding. ES It’s funny, because a lot of people have assumed and told us that our wedding must have had all hunters and it must have been really redneck/ country. But the truth is, Tim and I both love hunting and my dad, obviously, loves hunting. But my husband’s fam-

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ily doesn’t hunt and he started hunting in his 20s. And I would say 90 percent of the people we grew up with are not hunters. So we only had one little table at our wedding of people who were hunters. We had a really small wedding and kept it to our close family and friends. So everyone else at our wedding had never eaten wild game, and for some it was a little bizarre and they were just kind of OK with eating moose I hunted at our wedding. Even my now mother-in-law said, “I don’t know about this.” But it ended up being incredible. The caterer has a hunting show in England that’s ﬁeld to table, so it’s incredible that we found him. The amount of appreciation that you feel for that animal, an animal that we worked so hard for and it was so much beyond just that we went hunting for it. You look at it and say how much that I appreciated this moose to feed all these people at my wedding. And because moose are so huge we were able to eat it for the whole year. It really makes you thankful for being a hunter. It meant a lot to us. ASJ

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A ‘BOU FOR YOU AN ALASKAN CARIBOU HUNT IS A FALL RITE OF PASSAGE

Caribou hunting in Alaska takes place in a range of habitats, amid breathtaking scenery. Being in shape will help when it comes to enjoying the hunt to the fullest and ﬁlling a tag. (SCOTT HAUGEN)

BY SCOTT HAUGEN

eptember brings with it some of the most exciting times for Alaska hunters and anglers. No other month sees so many opportunities to get out there and hunt and fish for the vast bounty available throughout the Last Frontier. When Tiffany and I worked as schoolteachers on the North Slope for most of the 1990s, September meant caribou hunting. Sure, there was a bit of fishing that far north and some waterfowl and ptarmigan hunting to be had, but largely it was the caribou we sought to fill our freezers with. Caribou is one of the healthiest wild game meats in the world. Not only is it nutrient-dense, it tastes great and is easy to take care of since it’s so lean. Some of my fondest memories of hunting in Alaska are chasing caribou. The fall tundra is a spectacle to behold, and when you watch a herd of more than 10,000 caribou flowing over it like water, the experience will leave you speechless. “When you see caribou on the move this time of year, don’t try catching up to them, because you can’t,”

was the advice of Danny Pikok, Sr. when I prepared to go caribou hunting on my own for the first time in Point Lay, Alaska. Danny also worked at the school, and was considered one of the best hunters in the tiny Inupiat village we called home. Danny was right. No matter how many herds I saw over the years and how hard I tried to catch up with them on foot, it couldn’t be done. When caribou are in migration mode, they cover ground deceptively fast, rarely even pausing to eat.

CHASING BULLS One sunny afternoon in the Arctic, I came across a couple hundred caribou as they moved across the tundra. I watched from 2 miles away as the herd spilled into a river carved deep into the tundra. But the caribou never came out the other side. I hiked to the river and moved up the banks. Soon I was amid sparse willows standing up to 15 feet tall. And in the willows were hundreds of bull caribou shedding the velvet from their racks. For over an hour I watched as bulls raked the brush, and swam the meandering

river. I shot two bulls that day – one at 25 yards and one as it passed by me at four paces, velvet dripping from its heavy, bloodied rack.

HEADED OFF AT THE PASS When Tiffany and I moved to the village of Anaktuvuk Pass, the caribou hunting got even better. Anaktuvuk Pass was among the last Native settlements to become established in all of North America. The Nunamiut (“people of the land”) were nomadic people, traveling with the herds of caribou as they spread throughout the Brooks Range. Families would often divide and follow caribou, not meeting up for months on end. When Anaktuvuk Pass became formally established as a village, the site was based on where the most caribou congregated. In fact, Anaktuvuk Pass translates to “place of the caribou droppings.” There were so many caribou in the mountains surrounding the village, there was no need to stockpile meat for the winter, at least not for the few years we lived in Anaktuvuk Pass. Then, the migration path changed and no caribou came near the village one year. Caribou

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Topping grilled caribou steak with homemade pesto will add fresh ﬂavor to your wild game.

FIELD

(TIFFANY HAUGEN)

MAKE YOUR CARIBOU STEAK SING BY TIFFANY HAUGEN

rying to grill a caribou steak like you would a beef T-bone will never yield appetizing results. Following a few guidelines will have you sinking your teeth into wild game steaks that are tender, juicy and full of flavor. Adding a topping or sauce will further enhance the experience. Take advantage of that last basil you have in the garden or find it fresh at a local grocery store and make homemade pesto. If you are in a rush, find a brand you like and enjoy it on big game, game birds or your fresh fish catch of the day.

GAME GRILLING TIPS 1. For backstrap or tenderloin steaks, slice meat thinly (½-inch thick) across the grain. For other cuts, slice a bit thicker and pound and/or tenderize cuts into steak size. For whole backstraps, simply cut to a manageable size and trim off any silverskin. 2. Marinate meat in an oil-based marinade. One of the most convenient is Italian dressing (do not use low- or no36

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fat dressings). 3. Keep salt to a minimum, as it can make meat tough. Try a sprinkling of sea salt while meat is grilling. 4. Keep grates well lubricated. Use an oil-soaked paper towel held by tongs to wipe grates down right before placing the meat on them. 5. Let meat reach room temperature before grilling. Cold meat sticks to grill grates and contracts and becomes tough. 6. Grill hot and fast. Get grill temperature to at least 400 degrees and grill first side only until grill marks appear and then turn meat with tongs. By the time the last of the meat is flipped, the first ones you flipped will be done. For whole backstrap, move the meat as needed to keep heat even. 7. Do not overcook. It is safe to eat most red meat rare – bear, boar and cougar are the exceptions; cook those to at least 155 degrees. Cook whole venison backstrap (including caribou and moose) to an internal temperature of 140 degrees. 8. Let meat rest, covered with foil at

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least seven minutes before slicing and drizzling with pesto or another favorite sauce.

BASIL PESTO 1½ cups packed basil leaves Two cloves garlic ¼ cup toasted walnut, pecan or pine nuts ½ cup Parmesan cheese 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil Salt and black pepper to taste Finely chop basil in a food processor or mini-chopper. Add remaining ingredients and blend until smooth. Editor’s note: For over 100 more great wild game recipes and signed copies of Tiffany Haugen’s popular cookbook, Cooking Big Game, send a check for $20 (free S&H) to Haugen Enterprises, P.O. Box 275, Walterville, OR 97489, or order online at scotthaugen.com.

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are interesting animals, their migrations extremely tough to pinpoint and sometimes making absolutely no sense. Nonetheless, seeing caribou amid some of Alaska’s most breathtaking and rugged country is something special to behold. Watching herds of caribou weave through valleys in the Brooks Range and seeing them scale the highest mountains above where the Dall sheep live must be witnessed in order to be fully appreciated.

Caribou meat is some of the healthiest wild game in the world. Here, the author is all smiles over this cow, which proved to be the best-eating caribou he’s ever had. (SCOTT HAUGEN)

ON TOP OF THE WORLD My most recent caribou adventure found me on secluded Adak Island. I was with a couple buddies, Cory Kittle and fellow outdoor writer Paul Atkins. We were filming an episode for the Outdoor Channel series Alaska Outdoors TV. Due to filming permit restrictions, we couldn’t go into the land where the big bulls were hanging. So we settled for a meat hunt, as there were simply no bulls on the land we could access and legally film on. We came away with the fattest caribou I’d ever seen – one the best-tast-

ing caribou I’d ever eaten. Hunting the open hillsides of Adak – so rich in military history and void of predators –

was another unique caribou adventure I’ll never forget. Wherever your caribou hunting journeys may lead this season, don’t take the opportunity for granted. So many hunters in the Lower 48 have never seen a caribou in the wild, let alone hunted them. So many hunters dream of one day seeing herds of bulls numbering into the thousands and wrapping their hands around a massive, palmated rack. For those who’ve lived among the caribou, they’re a big game animal worthy of the highest accolades. A whitemaned bull in his prime is stunning to behold, and the land they occupy is beautiful to hunt. As fall gives way to winter in Alaska, you’ll vividly recall that special hunt every time you sink your teeth into the great-eating meat that caribou yield. While a caribou hunt may be brief, the memories they produce will last a lifetime. ASJ Editor’s note: For signed copies of Scott Haugen’s best-selling book, Hunting The Alaskan High Arctic, send a check for $38 (FREE S&H), to Haugen Enterprises, P.O. Box 275, Walterville, OR 97489, or order online at scotthaugen.com.

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Dall sheep inhabit some of Alaska’s most spectacular and rugged terrain. You better be in shape if you want to hunt them. (PAUL D.

ALASKA BIG GAME CHRONICLES

ATKINS)

ALASKA BIG GAME CHRONICLES: DALL SHEEP Editor’s note: This is the ﬁrst in our new series, Alaska Big Game Chronicles. Each month Paul D. Atkins will bring you a column on hunting a speciﬁc species in Alaska. This month it’s the iconic Dall Sheep. BY PAUL D. ATKINS

ith my naked eye, I could see him from the riverbed we were standing in. The big ram, sitting up there like a monarch, peered into the distance, surveying all that lay before him. I was totally amazed, but even more so as the spotting scope came into focus, allowing me to catch a close-up view of my ﬁrst full-curl Dall sheep.

A HIGH-COUNTRY GEM Dall sheep are amazing, and to hunt them is exhilarating as well. Coveted by residents and nonresidents alike, hunters from around the world come to Alaska to pursue these magniﬁcent

creatures, testing their skills in some of the most breathtaking and hazardous conditions on Earth. Only the toughest, best-conditioned hunters can do it, and those who do will never forget it, especially if successful. Like all mountain hunts, chasing wild sheep in Alaska is a major undertaking, whether you’re an experienced hunter or a beginner. It’s considered by many to be the toughest hunt the Last Frontier has to offer. I rank it second behind mountain goats, due to the fact that not all sheep hunts are created equal, depending on where you hunt them. Goats are always tough! Doing your research beforehand can mean the difference between a successful sheep hunting trip or just a long strenuous hike with a heavy pack and a riﬂe or bow. Part of being a successful hunter is knowing which questions you should ask yourself while making your plans. If you plan to hunt sheep, the first

and foremost question is, How are you going to get there? Most sheep hunts in Alaska are tough and the best places for success, those that have little hunting pressure, require the use of an airplane. Hunters who plan to go this route will need to hire a transporter to get from point A to point B and back again. These areas can be tough, but the chance at killing a big ram is very real. Other areas are close to the road system, but are well known and hunted hard by the locals. Success rates are low compared to some of the more remote areas.

STAY IN SHAPE Second, and probably the most important aspect of sheep hunting is, Are you in good enough shape to clambor around the rugged terrain that sheep live in? Steep mountainsides and difficult conditions like those found in the Chugach Mountains require a hunter to be in top physical and men-

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tal condition. Weeks, months or even years of preparation are required to make a hunt of this type even possible. On the other hand, places like the Brooks Range are much easier physically while still requiring stealth and conditioning. No matter where you go, finding and locating a legal ram takes perseverance. As for gear, experienced mountain hunters have this down to a science. Lightweight packs with minimal gear, high-calorie food, water-purifying tools, lightweight riﬂes, bows, camping gear … I could go on and on, but the goal is to take the least amount of gear and still be successful and safe. Sheep hunters train with full packs in preparation for these types of hunts to get the feel of what it will be like and be able to handle it. Remember, a good pack with speciﬁc lightweight gear makes all the difference. The less weight you have on your back, the more you’ll be able to do once you start your ascent and the hunt itself.

WHEN TO GO Last but not least, you’ll have to decide when you want to go and how much time you want to spend hunting sheep. Season opens August 1 and a large percentage of sheep hunters go at this time. It’s usually warmer, but most who do go on opening day have done their research, plus have probably done some scouting. They know where the big boys are and they also know that they haven’t been pressured yet. Camping is usually easier during the early season, but the sheep can be harder to get to in their summer range. Those hunting later in the year have to contend with snow and cold temperatures, which keep many hunters out of the mountains. Camping is much tougher and weather conditions can change in a big hurry. Rocks and terrain can be difficult to navigate and the mental game becomes more challenging. On the other hand, the reward can be great in the late season, as sheep tend to move to lower elevations to feed, plus there is usually less competition from other hunters. I have done it both ways and both were challenging. I 44

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The author is a successful sheep hunter. (PAUL D. ATKINS)

prefer the late season myself.

ADRENALINE RUSH There is nothing like hunting sheep. The sheer joy of being in the mountains pursuing these monarchs is for many the pinnacle of all big game hunting. If successful, it’s a lifetime achievement for hunters. There is something truly spe-

cial about wrapping your hands around the horn of a full-curl ram. It’s almost mythical – a true trophy, if there is one. If your plans include hunting Dall sheep in Alaska you’ll need to plan early, do your research and train your body both physically and mentally. The reward will be great and the satisfaction next to none. ASJ

GIMME FIVE: FACTS ABOUT DALL SHEEP 1) Male sheep (rams) usually weigh less than 300 pounds; females (ewes) weigh less than 150 pounds. The dressed weight of a 230-pound sheep is about 140 pounds, and a sheep of that size will yield about 80 pounds of meat. 2) Rams are distinguished by their massive curling horns. Ewes have shorter, more slender, slightly curved horns. Rams resemble ewes in appearance until they are about 3 years old. 3) Alaska’s Dall sheep are popular with nonresident hunters, and the harvest is split fairly evenly between residents and nonresidents. In 2007, nonresidents took 403 sheep, while resident hunters took 513, about 57 percent of the total. 4) Sheep have well-developed social systems. Adult rams live in bands, which seldom associate with ewe groups except during the mating season in late November and early December. The horn clashing for

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Dall sheep range in Alaska. (ALASKA DEPARTMENT OF FISH AND GAME)

which rams are so well known does not result from ﬁghts over possession of ewes. Instead, it is a means of establishing the social order. 5) The diets of Dall sheep vary seasonally from range to range. During summer, food is abundant, and the sheep consume a wide variety of plants. Their winter diet is much more limited and consists primarily of dry, frozen grass and sedge stems available when snow is blown off the winter ranges. –ADFG

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Whatever you’re hunting for this fall, you’ll undoubtedly be hoisting a pair of binoculars, perhaps as well-used as this one, to your eyes. But if you’re shopping for some, author Dave Workman has some tips to check out before you buy. (DAVE WORKMAN)

BINOCULAR WISHIN’?

4 THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW BEFORE YOU SPEND YOUR HARD-EARNED DOUGH ON A NEW PAIR BY DAVE WORKMAN

his time of year features some of the ﬁrst chances to get after game, and it is also a traditional time for hunters to be mounting scopes, zeroing in their riﬂes, and maybe picking up a new pair of binoculars. Before getting too far out in the weeds, if you’re shopping for some new binoculars, there are four things you need to know before you buy.

I use binoculars all the time, from opening day of grouse season to the last day of deer season. If you hunt anywhere there are antler restrictions, you need binoculars because a riflescope is not a spotting scope, and it is not designed for that purpose. If you instinctively – and almost reflexively – raise your rifle to look at something, say, across a canyon, you’re

aiming a loaded riﬂe at whatever got your attention, and it could be another hunter. I’ve had people do this to me, and it is mind-numbingly stupid. As I drive along old logging roads early or late in the day looking for grouse that might be picking up pea gravel or just waiting for somebody to follow them back into the brush, there is always a binocular on the seat or

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dashboard. If you can spot a grouse or two in the road early enough, it’s easy to d devise a strategy to get them when they move back into the bush, as they almo almost always do. S Since it’s not legal to plug them in the road, it’s necessary to flank them, and I have never been surprised by their stup stupidity. Many times, instead of flying, the fool hen will trot off the road and scurry back into cover. If they do fly, it’s scur ofte often onto a tree limb within 25 yards or so. I’ve I plugged a fair number of them with a .22 rifle or pistol, or managed to get them t with a shotgun if they did fly up into in a tree. I’d never have seen many birds without binoculars. of those th As A for big game, it is important whether you’re hunting thick timber or whe wide-open spaces to be able to glass the wide landscape. Many times I’ve seen deer land from a distance that later ended up in my freezer, but only thanks to my binoculars. freez

Workman says to buy the best you can afford, and you won’t go wrong, and he’ll attest to the quality of Swarovski Optik’s EL family of binoculars.(SWAROVSKI)

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IF YOU’RE SHOPPING for a new binocular, here are some things you should consider: • Know the difference between roofand porro-prism models. Traditionally, porro-prism binoculars – those with the “dogleg” bodies – have provided a slightly brighter image, but thanks to remarkable advances in roof-prism designs and the quality of glass lenses, that may not be the case anymore. But it will cost you. Truthfully, I own both types and cannot always tell much difference. I think the human eye may not be capable of discerning differences in binoculars. Porro-prism models are inherently bulkier than roof-prism models. The latter might be more expensive than the former. There is a trade-off, so examine both types and see which you prefer. • Binoculars needn’t be big and heavy, and don’t overpower yourself. That is, 8X or 10X binocular models get the job done, and I like lower power models for hunting in timber because they have a wider ﬁeld of view. I once actually won a 10X binocular with a well-known name brand from the manufacturer. I asked that they send me an 8X instead, and that binocular has proven itself more than once by allowing me to see movement at a distance (you rarely see a whole animal

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ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

The new Stevens break-action Model 301 is available in 12- or 20-gauge, or .410 bore. (SAVAGE ARMS)

TIME FOR A SINGLE-SHOT SMOOTHBORE?

Lots of old timers, and a fair number of younger hunters got started with single-shot shotguns, and Savage Arms has recently introduced a new Stevens break-action model that is available in 12- or 20-gauge, or .410 bore.

Three versions have 26-inch barrels and there’s a compact 20-gauge with a 22-inch barrel. All feature tough synthetic stocks with a thick recoil pad, exposed hammer and bead front sight. The Stevens Model 301 started ship-

ping in July, so they will be on dealer racks right now. With an MSRP of $173, this new smoothbore is priced just right for the entry-level hunter, or someone looking for a handy knock-around shotgun that offers a challenge. –DW

immediately) that led to a notched tag. Out on the Great Wide Open, the highest power I’d opt for would be 12X, and that would not be for running around the landscape, but for glassing the countryside from a ﬁxed position. If I really need to see something so close I can “touch” it, that’s a job for a

good lightweight spotting scope. • Smooth center focus is a must. I’ve used binoculars with center focus knobs that felt like a wrench or pliers were necessary to rotate. A stiff/tight center focus control is a pain in the neck, especially while wearing gloves, and it just might ruin an opportunity.

Before you buy, try the focus wheel, and do it with gloves on. Likewise, make sure your eyecups adjust smoothly. Good binoculars have adjustable eyecups, and twist up/down models are the best. I wear eyeglasses these days and a binocular needs to accommodate my specs. If they can’t be

ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

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adjusted quickly, that’s a problem when you need them to work. The neck strap should be made of neoprene or be of the wide padded variety. Your binocular may hang from your neck for long periods. That can be a problem when it’s time to shoot, and you won’t sleep too well with a stiff neck, either. My hunting partner carries his binocular via a shoulder harness. These are available at most sporting goods stores. • Fully multi-coated lenses are best. This layered coating contributes to a good sharp image edge to edge. These coatings help with light transmission

from the objective lens to the ocular (eyepiece) lens.

THERE ARE PLENTY of good binoculars available, depending upon how much one can afford to spend. The prevailing guideline is buy the best you can afford and you will not be disappointed. Swarovski Optik’s EL binocular family has models in 8X, 10X and 12X. These are all roof-prism models, and having used Swarovski binoculars on various occasions over the years, I can attest to their quality. The EL models all feature Swarobright, Swarotop, Swarodur and Swaroclean optical coatings. They de-

NEW LOADS FROM FEDERAL Federal Ammunition has unveiled two new loads in its Power-Shok Copper ammunition line, one in .300 Winchester Short Magnum and the other in .300 Winchester Magnum. Both new entries are topped by 180-grain lead-free copper projectiles with a hollowpoint design for expansion. These cartridges also feature lead-free primers. These new entries expand the number of loads available to six in as many calibers, starting at .243 Winchester. There are also offerings in .270 Winchester, .308 Winchester and .30-06 Springﬁeld. –DW

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liver 90 percent light transmission and have a rough exterior. Weaver offers the Kaspa binocular series, with models in 8X or 10X (the logical choice for someone setting his riﬂescope at 9X). They have rubber-armor exterior surfaces, and all are roofprism models. Bushnell’s latest binocular family is called the Engage series, and I recently had the chance to try out an 8x42mm model that provided a remarkably sharp image, with BaK-4 prisms. There are also 10X and 12X models available. New this year from Leupold is the BX-4 Pro Guide HD binocular family, with two 8X models, three 10X models and a single 12X model. They are waterproof and fogproof and have BaK-4 prisms. Leupold also introduced the BX-1 Yosemite binocular series, the BX-5 Santiam HD binoculars and BX-2 Tioga HD. Whichever brand of binos you raise to your eyes this season, here’s hoping your pair reveals plenty of game. ASJ

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SEPTEMBER SEP SEPT EM EMBE EMB E MBE MB MB BE ER 20 ER 2017 2017 17 | ak aaksportingjournal.com kspo sp spor sp po por orrtting o tin ti iing ng n g gjour jjour jo our ou o ur n ur nal. nal na aall ccom om o m

BY CHRISTOPHER BATIN

f the many big game trophies I pursue, only The Goat on the Mountain haunts my sleep and weekly workouts. It appears in my mind’s eye, a white spectre shrouded in wispy clouds against a backdrop of murderous gray cliffs. Before this obsession entered my life, goat hunts were much simpler. On one outing, my hunting partner and I had climbed for two days up avalanche chutes, roped across razor-edged shale slides, dodged falling ice from overhanging glaciers and scurried down a ravine that had earlier ﬁlled with mud from an earthquake. We were soon standing proudly over two goats we had bagged. Back then, any goat taken was a trophy. It wasn’t until we were skinning out the goats that I saw him, standing deﬁantly 150 yards above us on switchblades of shale.

Considering the steep terrain Alaska’s mountain goats traverse, it’s no wonder that these critters of the high country torment hunters into madness. (CHRISTOPHER BATIN)

The billy stood solid as marbled sculpture, his rump deeply blackened from rubbing on exposed veins of coal. His barrel-shaped chest, yellowed from urine and alpine fauna, ﬂashed like a dirty mirror in the sun. Two scars crosshatched his muzzle and thick black horns thrust out from a crown of matted hair. The image of that goat burned into my mind, and it slowly turned into an obsession that would change my life. For years to follow, The Goat on the Mountain proved to be elusive and unpredictable.

MY BEAR HUNTING PARTNER, a retired Army chaplain, helped me pioneer a new access route up the ever-changing glacier face and cliffs the goat lived on. An alder jungle hell split us in our lowland approach. In the distance, I could hear staccato invocations all too familiar with other hunting partners.

Surprised that such terrain could elicit profanity from a priest, I listened closely. “St. Joseph!” “Mary, mother of God!” “St. Michael the Archangel, deliver us!” He invoked the names of other angels and saints as we bushwhacked our way through the undergrowth, yet none came to our rescue. Returning to base camp, we chalked off the route as unclimbable and spent five more days attempting alternate routes to no avail. On another hunt, my brother Bill and I attempted a flanking approach up a forested mountainside. Near the top, we spent several hours strategizing a final 70-yard ascent up a rotting shale cliff that dropped precipitously over the pointed tips of dead spruce. It was so sharp that one slip would have skewered us like kebabs. After several unsuccessful attempts, we shot our false bravado with a round from the rifle of

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common sense and begrudgingly carried down the cape of disappointment.

GOAT HUNTERS ARE LIKE high-octane gas; we all have a bit of a kick in us. We easily ignite on adventure and don’t ping out when the going gets rough. Yet The Goat on the Mountain remained elusive to me. When we couldn’t locate the billy one year, my wife and I hunted an adjacent range and climbed to within 300 yards of two big billies atop a rock cliff. On final approach, dark gray clouds rolled up menacingly from saltwater and devoured us in near-zero visibility. With landmarks obscured, we closely followed GPS tracks to critical waypoints that marked the only safe trail off the mountain, avoiding cliffs we could have stumbled off and slid to our deaths. We eased down a slippery avalanche chute and leaned into a hurtling vomit of horizontal rain and flying debris toward base camp. Tethered to a single spruce, our empty backpack tent darted about like a tailless kite. Typhoon David and its 90 mph winds kept us holed up for three days until our air charter bucked the post-storm gale winds for an emergency extraction. In the ensuing months, I questioned if chasing these goats was worth the disappointments. It would be easier to harvest a handsome billy with long, winter hair in heavy snow near the beach, or in low-lying mountain pastures in late summer. Bagging The Goat on the Mountain, however, demanded that I take calculated risks and push the envelope harder than most. Month after month, I sweated, grunted and groaned under a 70-pound backpack for an opportunity not only for a shot, but also to be found worthy of taking a shot. Outcroppings of razor shale sliced my fingers to throbbing nubs. Venomous spines of devil’s club pricked a painful fire into my knees and shins. On preseason glacier treks, I packed burning, calloused feet in the chill of alpine snow. I made approaches on several goats, but not that goat.

BACK IN CIVILIZATION, MANY clicked their tongues at me and looked away, as if afraid. They didn’t understand why I 58

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Author Chris Batin has been through enough of these grueling, sometimes futile hunts in the mountains to know how humbling they can be. (CHRISTOPHER BATIN)

hunted difficult game in murderous country. The Goat on the Mountain is my will to power, a raging current that erodes the snags of mediocrity and scours the gravel of my human limitations to expose the hard bedrock of hunting potential. I would triumph in my quest. Finally, my brother and I found a climbable route up a distant ridgeline, where we last observed the infamous goat. We roped ourselves up the edges of waterfalls that emptied into a forested abyss. The next day, we clawed up boulder-strewn creek beds to a ridgeline and set up spike camp for the final stalk. And suddenly, there he was, walking the ridgeline against a panoramic backdrop of icefields and glaciers. I was numb, not from the exertion but from heady anticipation of what would soon be. We hunted as we trained, to flawless perfection. Wind perfect. Controlled

SEPTEMBER 2017 | aksportingjournal.com

breathing. Legs pumped hard without fatigue. We patiently waited out the morning and early afternoon, hidden behind alpine tussocks. This was no time for impatience. Finally, the goat walked off the ridge and into the meadow below us, oblivious to our presence. I eased the crosshairs on the huge billy. He was a bit slower than I recall, bulkier and more yellow with the same blackish rump discolored by coal dust. The goat lust that had bewitched me all these years was finally near its end. I could finally eat pizza and cheesy, three-layered burgers, scale back the physical conditioning, allow my wife to fatten me up, drink Friday night beers with the gang, and focus on hunting flatland species rather than goats. My lifetime quest would be fulfilled. Yet the satisfaction I yearned for from such thoughts was fleeting. The

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ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

Goat on the Mountain would be mine some day. But it would not be this day.

I UNSHOULDERED MY BROTHER’S .30-06 and gave him my .338. “Take the shot. He’s yours. Now!” He made a dandy shot and we were soon measuring horns slightly over 9.75 inches long. That yellow-stained goat hangs over the desk in his office, a mount I admire each time I visit. Now with a wife and family, my brother never returned to tempt the treacherous ravages of goat country, and for good reason. For him, The Goat on the Mountain was a hard-won, once-in-a-lifetime trophy. It’s unlikely that he could do better. For me, having one of these goats is as vital as my need to breathe and eat. The Goat on the Mountain is the trophy that deﬁnes not only who I am as a hunter, but also my lifestyle. There will be a time when the inﬁrmities of age will prevent me from sparring with wilderness glaciers and treacherous mountains, but it will not be this day. I’m planning a hunt for a big goat that I observed last year. He’s

“Goat hunters are like high-octane gas; we all have a bit of a kick in us,” Batin writes. “We easily ignite on adventure and don’t ping out when the going gets rough.” (CHRISTOPHER BATIN)

a yellow-stained billy with 10-inch horns, living in cliffs above a glacier so rugged I’ll need technical climbing gear to reach him. Sure, I’ll need to circuit train harder and think smarter than I did when I was 25, but not much more, because pursuing a goat, on a mountain, always brings out the best I can be. For me, that is not only a good way

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to hunt, but also a good way to live. ASJ Note: Chris Batin is author of the award-winning 416-page book, Hunting in Alaska: A Comprehensive Guide that details how and where to hunt all Alaska big and small game. Alaska Sporting Journal readers can receive autographed copies from the author or contact him through his website, AlaskaHunter.com or AlaskaAngler.com.

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SOME ‘SECRET’ HUNTING SPOTS ARE PLACES TO SIMPLY GET AWAY AND SAVOR THE MOMENT

One of the author’s favorite deer hunting spots is a sort-of-secret Panhandle mountain. It’s not so much a honey hole where you’re guaranteed a buck, but it’s his place, somewhere special to look forward to going in fall. (JEFF LUND) 64

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BY JEFF LUND

’m doing something I probably shouldn’t. When you travel somewhere and write about it, you don’t have the feeling of betraying the locals because you’re not around when the piece is published. As an outdoor writer writing about where I live, I try not to reveal where I am specifically, not only because I don’t want to advertise my favorite spots, but there’s some kid here who is learning how to fish for steelhead for the first time on an empty river, or a father and daughter/son going up on their first-ever hunt. What if I do a thorough how-to complete with maps and such, and put someone there before them? What if I ruin what’s not mine, you know? I live in Ketchikan and grew up on Prince of Wales Island. I know stuff and I’m going to provide pictures of my favorite mountain, but that’s as far as I am willing to go. Those who can identify it will maybe laugh because it’s certainly not a secret mountain, or one with a reputation for epic deer hunting. But it is good and suffers increasing traffic each year because while it is well known, it’s not talked about a lot. Some call it an easy mountain or a beginner mountain for those chasing their first buck, but that’s precisely what makes it special.

MY FAVORITE MOUNTAIN IS where I shot my first buck, but that’s not the only reason why I love it so. I shot my first solo day hunt buck there. I camped halfway up the alpine and took my first solo camping buck there. Last year I sat on the ridge in the fog for an hour after a horrible night in the rain and wind to get a glimpse of something worth stalking. The weather broke and within an hour, I saw, stalked and took a really nice three-pointer. Rain and wind made that a horrible hike out, but who cares when the tag is notched? My buddy Jesse and I started up it in a light, dryish rain. It was the type of precipitation visitors would call rain, but we’d consider no big deal. Anyway, we made camp then the sky lightened and allowed us to amble aksportingjournal.com | SEPTEMBER 2017

ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

Whether it’s spotting a forked horn or catching a glimpse of a wolf, Lund’s mountain is the kind of place you’d imagine Alaska in its wildest sense represents. (JEFF LUND)

around on the alpine for a few hours before the sliver of open sky on the horizon turned orange, then deep red. “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.” “So the ocean will be calm, but what about up here?” Jesse laughed. The wind was angry most of the night. I rolled over in my sleeping bag, hoping I had slept most of the night but it was only 11 p.m., then 1 a.m. I felt most of those minutes, so I was sure that I

had in fact been awake. I watched the dark shadows of the tent move. There was obviously no moon but there was enough to see the difference in shapes. I thought about the dry bag that had my food in it. It was just outside my tent, and on a night like that, anything willing to be out was more than welcome to my Milky Ways.

THE NEXT TIME I rolled over there was actual light. It had to be around four, but I

It may look peaceful, but when the wind blows here, it only adds to the experience for adventure seekers. (JEFF LUND)

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checked and it was 5:30. I had probably managed to stack a few hours together in some semblance of actual sleep rather than those camping naps. Jetboils were going by around seven and soon we were back in the alpine. We saw a spike and a few does, but the green slope was otherwise absent of anything standing in or near the myriad tracks or sign left behind. There were some bucks in the distance, but Jesse was hunting with a bow and the weather did not permit a stalk. The window of good weather was supposed to last until just before noon, which it did. Two does emerged from the timber below us. One even bedded down. Then dark skies appeared from behind the ridge and invaded down the slope. The wind became almost violent. The doe was driven from its bed and Jesse and I from our perch. We side-hilled back to camp. The forecast promised rain every hour for the next day and a half, so we packed up and left, the weight of a deer replaced by extra pounds of water soaked into our gear. Whenever you go on a hunt and don’t get what you went for, it’s tempting to repeat one of those clichés - “A bad day hunting is better than …” or

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“Any hunt that ends in you safe at home is a good hunt.” And with good reason. That really is what it’s about. My favorite hunting mountain is not one that many others go to for big deer, though there have been big deer taken off of it. But it’s one of those “connecting” spots. One of those locations with connotation, weight, history. I’ll go up again, and will again be reminded why it’s my favorite. Here’s the thing about traveling to places to hunt and ﬁsh for the ﬁrst time: People live there. I know it’s obvious, but seriously. Locals understand that people are attracted to places with premium outdoors experiences and welcome visitors. So be humble, courteous and put some money into the local economy. Hire a local guide, stay at their local home, shop at the local store, take only what you need of the resource and remember, your dream vacation is likely someone’s favorite, secret, or special spot. ASJ Editor’s note: To order Ketchikan-based author Jeff Lund’s book, Going Home, go to Amazon.com.

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“My favorite hunting mountain is not one that many others go to for big deer … but it’s one of those ‘connecting’ spots,” the author writes. (JEFF LUND)

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A tasty young bull was what the author and his longtime hunting partner were after, but this is the land of “almost.” After the moose swam up to them while trying to get away from a plague of ﬂies, they let him walk, ﬁguring another bull would show itself soon enough. (PAUL D. ATKINS)

ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

SEPTEMBER 2017 | aksportingjournal.com

THE ‘ALMOST’ EFFECT

IN ARCTIC ALASKA, ADVENTURERS TAKE NEAR MISSES IN STRIDE AND FIND ANOTHER MEMORABLE MOMENT BY PAUL D. ATKINS

“S

top, Lew; I think I saw something!” “What was it?” he asked as I pointed toward the big lake we had just passed. “Not sure, but I think it was a moose standing on the backside next to the shoreline,” I replied. Lew maneuvered the boat like a pro and eased us into the opening of the narrow slough. The wall of willows blocking our view slowly receded, bringing us to a stop. With zero wind, an onslaught of mosquitoes, vengeful and unforgiving in their quest for blood, swarmed. We both brought up our binoculars and, as it turned out, I had seen something after all: a bull, standing seemingly unconcerned on the far side of the lake. He was small, but size didn’t matter in our quest to ﬁnd an antlered bull to ﬁll the freezer. However, getting close enough for Lew to make the shot would be the tough part, especially with no cover. Then the bull did something totally unexpected: he jumped into the water and started swimming towards us! Lew and I couldn’t believe it, and in no time the bull was next to the boat! Now, I’ve been in on many moose kills in water situations; it’s no fun and the work can be more than it’s worth. Dragging them to dry land is quite an undertaking, and before you’re done you’re totally soaked and standing in waist-deep water. This bull seemed to be on a mission as he swam close to the boat and cared very little that we were there. We debated on what to do. After close inspection, we could see his face and eyes were covered by black flies and mosquitoes. We guessed

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ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

Bears are plentiful in the far north, and 10 were spotted on a hunting trip up the Kobuk River, including this big sow with three healthy cubs in tow. (PAUL D. ATKINS)

the cool water provided some relief, overpowering his fear of us. We finally made the decision against harvesting it, knowing that there might be another bull upriver and in a better location. So we grabbed our cameras and snapped several hundred photos while he swam away. It was quite the experience. Moments like this happen a lot in Alaska. Frankly, everything is “almost” in the Arctic. “We almost got there,” or “That bear was almost in range,” or “That moose was almost in the right place.” Indeed, it seems that a lot of things in the hunting and ﬁshing world make us say “Almost!” especially this time of year when the water is high and conditions aren’t quite ideal.

WE HAD A COOL, wet summer here in the Last Frontier’s far north. It rained consistently, or so it seemed, which brought on the bugs and an increasingly “high” amount of vegetation. Most places weren’t accessible, some were underwater and some simply were gone – washed away forever. It seemed like if you stopped somewhere, you 74

ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

better have had a head net, DEET or at least a Thermacell. Lew Pagel and I had planned our early-season trip long ago, knowing that Aug. 1 would find us up the Kobuk River enjoying a leisurely week of fishing, and bear and moose hunting. We knew where we wanted to go based on the extraordinary trip we’d taken a couple of years earlier. It had been a magnificent experience that saw us catch sheefish and some of the biggest chum salmon you can imagine. We also saw bears; though we took a transporter to get there and couldn’t hunt that time, we could this time in a boat. With the long day, sunshine and clear skies, it was a glorious ride upriver on the Kobuk. Finding the moose early and then seeing flock after flock of waterfowl gave us the feeling that it was going to be another epic adventure. It reminded both of us of old times – days spent on the Kobuk searching for whatever the river brought us. The river, however, was high, full from bank to bank and hiding all of those pesky sandbars and rocks. Debris filled the waterway as well, with whole trees uprooted from their dark clay homes

SEPTEMBER 2017 | aksportingjournal.com

passing by. The obstacles gave Lew quite the workout in the boat. Upon arriving at our old fishing spot, we could see that it was quite different than two years before. The sandbar where we had camped and planned to again was gone. The narrow stream where we had caught fish after fish was a raging, swirling whirlpool that stretched far and wide and looked impossible. Dejected, we decided to go ahead and find a place to camp for the night, but there wasn’t much except for a narrow strip of sandbar on the north side of the river. We had barely set up the tent when the water started to rise rapidly. We quickly disassembled camp, packed the boat and left. What a disappointment, but being without shelter was more disconcerting. We had passed a cabin several miles back, and even though it was 2 a.m. with rain threatening, it was our only choice. We found it and spent the night along with a couple thousand mosquitoes that found their way in.

THE NEXT DAY WE headed back the way we had come, knowing that our fish-

aksportingjournal.com | SEPTEMBER 2017

ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

Scenes from Arctic adventures: Running the rivers to fishing spots or to cruise for game provides plenty of excitement, plus the views are next to none. One of the great joys of these journeys is to camp and enjoy a leisurely evening grilling brats beside the water, though sometimes an MRE makes for an easier meal. And occasionally you have unexpected wildlife encounters – the two hunters in the boat beside this bull moose didn’t, er, bug it as much as the skeeters and black flies did. (PAUL D. ATKINS)

ing trip was a bust but hoping that we might find another moose or maybe even see a bear. We saw the latter, and in great numbers. It had been some time since I had shot a bear with my bow, as tough a task to do as there is. Getting within range without him knowing or spooking is a very tricky undertaking, and in my opinion one of the toughest Alaska hunts to pull off. The ﬁrst three bears saw us long before we noticed them. Each ducked into the high willow at the last moment without allowing us the chance to land and make a stalk. It was a bit disheartening, but exciting to say the least. We saw two more bears – small in size compared to the ﬁrst – and even a sow and three cubs made their way across the river in front of us. To say there aren’t plenty of bears in Game 76

ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

Management Unit 23 is a mistake. With the current change allowing two bears per year in this unit, it is quite reasonable. Maybe that is why we didn’t see as many moose? The last bear was a shooter and he was in a good spot. The high bank lining the river was ideal for an ambush, and with him cruising the shoreline and not paying much attention to us, it would allow for an easy approach. Lew eased the boat towards a point where we could rendezvous; it was easily within riﬂe range, but I had my bow. The bear ﬁnally noticed us and hesitated like they all do. I made my way to the front of the boat and prepared to exit when the big bear did what all big smart bruins do, head into the willow to never be seen again. I looked at Lew: “Almost!”

SEPTEMBER 2017 | aksportingjournal.com

WITH THINGS LOOKING DOWN, we headed home to lick our wounds, regroup and go to plan B. The long ride across the always-treacherous Kobuk Lake was uneventful, and Lew had us home safe and sound in no time. The next day we would go in a different direction. The Noatak River lies to the north and courses hundreds of miles while encircling a vast region including the Noatak National Preserve. In my opinion, this was once a hunting mecca, but with changes in time, weather and migration patterns it has declined in recent years. Oh, there’s still moose and muskox, but the once-vast caribou herds don’t make their appearance there as they once did. But the ﬁshing is still some of the best around. Our goal was to make it to Pike

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Lake. Realize that most states, especially Alaska, have numerous lakes named after northerns. Many people will agree and even laugh at the idea. But the lake we were trying to get to was indeed one of the best. The key to our success would be if we could get there. The lake itself sits inland, several miles from the main channel. It’s deep and the ﬁshing can be some of the best in the world, but getting there is a daunting task, and if you don’t have someone experienced in boatcraft, it’s almost impossible. If it’s a dry year and the water is down, it is impossible with a prop motor. Even most jet-motored boats have trouble, but with the high water and the continuous rain we had been getting, we thought we might be able to make the voyage in. We cut into the slough like a racecar and made our way towards the lake. We knew the further we ventured in, the narrower and shallower it would get. The water was dense with mud and debris, but as it started to clear and turn black we knew we were getting closer.

ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

Lew Pagel gives his casting arm a workout after a long and frustrating boat ride to “Pike Lake,” which, true to its name, soon saw northerns. (PAUL D. ATKINS)

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ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

The lake itself isn’t on map or a GPS, so knowing the right channel and turns to make is critical. At one point, we turned left when we should have gone right, and it wasn’t until many miles later that we realized our mistake. We finally got on track, and with each mile the channel narrowed quite considerably. The water turned from black to a clear burnt-orange color that told us we were close. The last 300 yards was the tricky part, when it was maybe a foot deep. When Lew’s prop caught the gravel I turned to him: “Almost.” But Lew was determined. Raising his motor, we ventured ever so slowly through the current – and made it!

THE LAKE IS HUGE! It covers several square miles, with a few areas that can be close to 100 feet deep. When I ventured north this past spring to hunt sheep and bears, I crossed its frozen mass several times on a snowmachine, not knowing if I would ever get to the other side – it’s that big! The lake’s big pike are legendary,

The guys take advantage of the ﬁshing opportunity and land a pike into the net. (PAUL D. ATKINS)

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so we obviously wanted to catch a few. Lew circled the lake and guided us into the better parts for fishing. With the rain at bay it was turning into a great day as we casted here and there, trying to hook into one of those incredible fighters. Disclaimer: I’m not a fan of pike, never have been. Their long sharp teeth can play havoc on your hands; there have been several times when I actually thought I was going to bleed to death. But they are so much fun to catch, and if you haven’t eaten pike, you should, as long as you can get past the bones. We took time to eat an MRE, and then continued to fish the small pools, hoping to hook into something big. My new Fish Eagle rod and Cabela’s Prodigy reel impressed me greatly, and I was glad I purchased them before the trip. We were using Johnson Silver Minnows, silver and gold spoons that pike find irresistible. As the wind pushed us near the shore we located the fish. Hard hits beneath the black water bent our rods

Lew Pagel with an Arctic grayling, incredible ﬁghters that are also some of the best-eating ﬁsh you can fry up in camp. (PAUL D. ATKINS)

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almost in half, letting us know that we had hit pay dirt. I caught a small one, Lew caught a monster and then me again. It was back and forth throughout the afternoon and evening. As the rain started to come down and the evening dusk turned to night, we decided that it was time to head home. Getting back through the channel would be easier but required a bit of maneuvering here and there, but we made it.

ADVENTURE CAN BE FOUND in the Arctic and most of Alaska, no matter the month or season. You just have to get out there, get tough and persevere. When one door closes, go and search for another. As we’ve discovered so often, almost can turn into something very special. ASJ Editor’s note: Paul Atkins is an outdoor writer and author from Kotzebue, Alaska. He has written hundreds of articles on big game hunting and ﬁshing throughout North America and Africa, plus surviving in the Arctic. Paul is a monthly contributor to Alaska Sporting Journal.

“Adventure can be found in the Arctic ... no matter the month or season,” the author writes. “When one door closes, go and search for another. As we’ve discovered so often, almost can turn into something very special.” (LEW PAGEL) Owners Collin & Robin

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DON’T JUDGE A BOOK…

ON AN ANGLER’S FIRST ALASKA STEELHEAD TRIP, HE THOUGHT FOUR GUYS WERE ROLE MODELS;

HE COULDN’T HAVE BEEN MORE WRONG

BY TONY ENSALACO ILLUSTRATIONS BY JOSEPH FRUEAUF

hile I was standing inside Juneau’s terminal waiting for the plane’s mechanical problems to be resolved, I couldn’t help but notice the other ﬁshermen who I would be sharing the river with for the next few days. It was the spring of 2000 and this was what would be the ﬁrst of many spring steelhead trips to Southeast Alaska for me. To say that I was a somewhat intimidated by the competition would be an understatement. My initial impression was that most of the passengers appeared to be stamped from the same mold. Many were wearing expensive rain jackets, khaki-colored cargo pants and

some sort of hiking boots. Some were carrying rod tubes with high-end brand names such as Sage, Orvis and R.L. Winston etched on the sides. The sight of the rod tubes made me uncomfortable since it appeared that I would be the only angler on the river who wasn’t going to be throwing a fly line that week. Even though I had brought an assortment of rods from the Lower 48, I never thought for a moment to pack a fly rod. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have been of much use, because I couldn’t cast one worth a damn anyway. Then, as I peered toward the window through the sea of Gore-Tex, I saw four men who stood out from all of the rest. They looked to be in their mid- to late40s, all dressed in flannel shirts, baggy blue jeans, a couple of which were held

up by thick red suspenders. They also were sporting an abundance of unkempt facial hair, probably left there to protect their skin from the rough, unpredictable Alaskan elements. I knew right away that these guys weren’t planning to be dead-drifting Glo-bugs anytime soon. No, sir, definitely not! I was sure these dudes were dyedin-the-wool gear fishermen, probably professional guides who’d been going at it for several years. These boys were real hardcore metalheaders who I myself was aspiring to become someday! During the lengthy flight delay, I introduced myself in an attempt to pry any information I could from them. I was positive the quartet were experts and I needed to find some way to penetrate their circle of trust. As I shook the first guy’s hand, I

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ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

imagined all of the countless steelhead that must have been gripped in those weather-beaten paws over the years. But unfortunately, the conversation didn’t go as well as I had planned. I started by asking them where they were from. They told me that they lived down in the Seattle area and that they had been steelheading for decades. When I asked if they were guides, they looked at one another with concerned looks on their faces and didn’t answer, as though they didn’t want to bring attention to themselves. “Holy s%*#!” I thought. “These guys must be pretty well known, because they are trying to keep such a low profile.” I started wondering if their beards were actually real or if they were traveling incognito. When I inquired about the river we would be fishing, the only thing I could get out of them was that they had fished here before and that it could be extremely tough for first-timers. These wily veterans would not throw me a bone no matter how hard I tried. I peppered them with more questions, but they deflected each one like a world-class goalie would a soccer ball or hockey puck. They didn’t tell me anything that a travel brochure wouldn’t reveal. I finally gave up. As I walked away I felt a sense of horror, knowing that I’d more than likely be stuck fishing behind these aces all week, hoping to catch any scraps that they inadvertently left behind.

AT ABOUT 8 THE next morning, I was fishing the first hole below the put-in when I heard a loud, obnoxious group of anglers making their way downstream while simultaneously obliterating the serenity of the morning. I figured that it must be a bunch of inconsiderate kids on their first fishing trip away from home without adult supervision. Boy, was I wrong. The boisterous party turned out to be the same men I’d looked to befriend back in Juneau. As they came floating around the bend in separate pontoon boats, the first guy coming down was out of control, floating backwards and proceeded to crash abruptly into the logjam that I 90

ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

was fishing. The next guy down unknowingly had his line dangling over the side of his craft and of course his hook snagged into the jam upstream. While he was making an unsuccessful attempt to break off, the third guy in their crew was mercilessly making fun of him between taking pulls from a brown bottle of booze. In fact, all of them sounded like they had already started nipping. Oh, and the fourth man was hopelessly stuck in the eddy upstream, and he didn’t look like he would be finding his way out anytime soon. From that point on, it just got worse. The first guy who slammed into the logs somehow managed to get his left pontoon stuck on a branch that was protruding out of the jam. He attempted to dislodge himself by violently shaking the logs with his feet, sending shockwaves up and down the stream. Any respectable steelhead that had been securely nestled under the trees should have taken off in search of a quieter resting place.

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And if there happened to be a stubborn fish that decided to hold out waiting for peace to be restored, it got spooked when the second guy stumbled out of his vessel into the waistdeep water. He trudged his way up the swift current, looking to retrieve his tangled rig from the branches above. But because he never bothered to properly secure his pontoon on the sandbar, I was forced to grab his boat for fear of the thing drifting off and I would be the one having to chase it down river in my drift boat. The third guy pulled over below me, still slugging the joy juice like he was going to the electric chair. The last guy, who had been pinned in the eddy, finally managed to somehow work his way out of it and proceeded to bolt downriver, disappearing for the rest of the day. After 10 long minutes of kicking and yelling, the boys finally got their acts together and started to make their way downstream again. For the next several hours, though, I played an impromptu game of leapfrog with the group. Every time I thought I had given them the slip,

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ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

they would come barreling downriver relentlessly, splashing their oars and kicking their feet as if they were being attacked by a school of frantic sharks. By now, the liquor had really started to take its effect on them, because it certainly appeared that their coordination was rapidly deteriorating. The ﬁrst guy was trying to side-drift, but one of his partners was struggling to control his craft and kept running over the bobber. This caused the ﬁrst guy to become belligerent and he loudly shared his anger with the rest of the river. The scene was starting to escalate into an uncomfortable situation. Indeed, what started out as an intriguing spectacle was fast becoming a train wreck right before my eyes. As they faltered downstream, I decided to stay put for a while to give them some much-needed space.

OF COURSE, THAT WASN’T going to be the last time I would come across these clowns. Just when things seemed to settle down, I inadvertently had one final encounter with them. As I floated around a long, sweeping bend, there they were again, hanging out on a gravel bar. While one was working to start a fire with completely saturated wood, another was emptying a fair amount of river water from his 92

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waders. The third man – the one who’d been hitting the bottle pretty hard ﬁrst thing in the morning – was now passed out under a fallen spruce tree. Thankfully, that was the last time we would see each other. From my recollection, the guys never did make it to dinner that night, nor did our paths cross at breakfast the next morning. I know that we were staying at the same lodge together because I’d seen them check in. Maybe all of the calamities they’d experienced the previous day made them reconsider their itinerary and sent them packing to catch the next jet out of town. If someone had told me a couple of days before that the four guys standing by the window in the airport would have turned out to have been such an utter bunch of scrubs, I would have bet my overstuffed rod tube that that person was a liar. To me, they had the look of quintessential steelheaders, ones who I would have been proud to emulate. I could not have been more wrong. That trip taught me a life’s lesson: Don’t be quick to judge solely on ﬁrst impressions because things don’t always seem to be what they appear. ASJ Editor’s note: The artwork for this article was created by Joseph Frueauf. For more of his work, see josephfrueauf.com.

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OUR ALASKAN

ADVENTURE FAMILY TRIP INCLUDES GREAT PRINCE WILLIAM SOUND FISHING

Andy Larsson and his wife Sheila and parents Bob and Nancy Larrson pose with a nice Prince William Sound halibut. (ANDY LARSSON)

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ndy Larsson, the longtime owner and operator of Montana-based Skinner Sights (406-531-5113; skinnersights.com), is grateful to live in the outdoor playgrounds of Big Sky Country. But the chance to experience Alaska – and celebrate a very special wedding anniversary and birthday in the Last Frontier – was irresistible. Here’s Larsson with some of the highlights of he and his family’s trip: “My parents Bob and Nancy Larsson are 88 years old. Bob’s birthday was May 23 and fell during our trip to Alaska. And my parents have been married for 70 years (they celebrated their anniversary on May 30). We – my mom and dad and my wife Sheila and I – ﬂew to Anchorage, were picked up by Whittier Marine Charters, overnighted in Anchorage and then were off to Whittier the next day. “Capt. Matt Kopec of the Swee’ Pea took us on a two-day fishing trip, we stayed overnight 70 miles from port and ate fresh fish that we had just caught for dinner. Lots of rockfish and halibut. We anchored in a sheltered bay for the night, fished the next day and then motored the 70 miles back to port. “We spent the next two nights in

Sheila scored a yelloweye, and Bob and Nancy got this halibut double. (ANDY LARSSON)

Sheila in action yarding a rockﬁsh up from the depths. (ANDY LARSSON)

A hungry bruin walks along the beach with a dogﬁsh for dinner. (ANDY LARSSON) 96

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LODGING

America’s iconic national symbol, a bald eagle made an appearance. (ANDY LARSSON)

In Homer. Sheila got a photo op with the F/V Time Bandit of Deadliest Catch fame. (ANDY LARSSON)

Seward at the Harbor 360 Hotel, took a six-hour cruise with Kenai Fjord Tours, visited a glacier and watched orca and humpback whales, seals, sea lions, bears, and all sorts of sea birds. We also traveled to Homer and spent two nights

Happy birthday and happy anniversary to these two, who Andy says were also honored by Delta Airlines during the ﬂight home. (ANDY LARSSON)

at the Land’s End Resort on the end of the (Homer) Spit. We did some sightseeing in the Homer area, walked along the harbor and enjoyed the Alaska ﬁshing culture on the piers. “I dropped our ﬁsh off at 10th and M

Seafoods in Anchorage for processing and picked it up hard-frozen and vacuum-sealed for ﬂying back to Montana. “Everyone in Alaska was very helpful and showed amazing hospitality. It was an amazing and fun trip!” ASJ

Bob and Nancy held their 88th birthday party at Homer’s Fresh Catch Cafe. (ANDY LARSSON) 98

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BEADS AND ’BOWS WHEN SALMON ARE SPAWNING, ANGLERS CAN CATCH NICE TROUT WITH SIMPLE SET-UP

BY MIKE LUNDE

aking advantage of unique conditions can be the difference between an epic fishing adventure and sitting on the shoreline scratching your head, wondering what went wrong. During last year's season, while fishing around Parks Highway tributaries that flow into the Susitna River, I took advantage of an important – if not the most significant – predator-prey interaction known throughout Alaska: the salmon egg bite during the height of spawning season. In early August, the annual Montana Creek Pink Salmon Kids Derby was in full swing, with residents from throughout the Mat Su Valley showing up to get

Beads resembling salmon eggs (bottom) are irresistible to rainbow trout like this 27-incher (top) caught by the author. (MIKE LUNDE) aksportingjournal.com | SEPTEMBER 2017

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their kids into feisty humpies in hopes of also winning cash and prizes. In addition to pinks filling the tributaries, chums were in large numbers as well, providing bonus action. A day after a successful chum outing at the mouth of the famed creek, I swapped out the salmon gear for tackle more conducive to rainbows after a light bulb went off in my head. I rigged my fly rod up with a 10-foot tapered fluorocarbon leader and grabbed some 8mm beads to represent freshly released pink and chum salmon eggs adrift in the current. I planned to use them in close proximity to schools of pinks digging fresh redds. Downstream of the highway about 50 yards, I approached a family of four with twin 9-year-old boys. As I approached them, I asked the father if it was OK to cast just downstream of them as our focus was on rainbows and not pinks. He responded with a quick nod, and I placed a 40-foot roll cast just upstream of a school of about eight pinks in the middle of the channel. With no luck on the first drift, I repositioned the natural roe-colored bead

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For fly guys, bead set-ups typically include a 10-foot tapered fluorocarbon leader, a strike indicator, several split-shots and a bead pegged above a bead hook. Use larger, 10- to 12mm beads when fishing behind Chinook, 6- to 8mm to represent the eggs of other salmon species. (MIKE LUNDE)

in the same area. As it drifted downstream towards the salmon, my orange bobber indicator disappeared. With a quick hookset, a 20-inch-plus rainbow

SEPTEMBER 2017 | aksportingjournal.com

went airborne. It continued to jump until it decided to change tactics and show off its speed by taking off downstream like a roadrunner, stripping my ﬂy line

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Rainbows fatten up when they are gorging on salmon eggs, meaning bead set-ups can be too enticing to pass up. (MIKE LUNDE)

down to the beginning section of the backing. After a short ďŹ ght ďŹ lled with more acrobatics, the 21-inch trout came to hand, was photographed, the hook was extracted and the ďŹ sh was released to ďŹ ght another day. I continued down the shoreline and ďŹ shed behind more schools of pink salmon holding at midchannel or closer to the bank. I experienced the same

action over the course of the late morning and early afternoon. Despite the sun rising higher and higher in the sky, it did not disrupt the troutâ€™s aggressive appetite for salmon eggs. It often took no more than four to six drifts over a school of pink or occasional chum salmon to get a strike. Later in the afternoon, my ďŹ shing partner Aaron and I drove 2 miles up-

stream of the bridge along a side road that was packed with pullouts for RVs and camp trailers. On the left side of the road, we saw a series of riffle-pool sequences with granite boulders partially exposed above the surface. Adrenaline surged anew through our fatigued bodies and soon we'd stripped line off our deels and were drifting beads after 30- to 40-degree

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Summer and fall's salmon egg-foraging window is one of if not the most significant predator-prey interaction that occurs throughout Alaskan rivers for multiple species of fish. Studies conducted over the years by the University of Washington have validated its importance, comparing the enriched nutritional content embedded in the egg to traditional trout diets of insects such as stoneflies, mayflies and caddisflies. While Glo Bugs and other popular yarn flies are effective presentations for representing eggs, the popularity of beads amongst local guides in Alaska

skyrocketed over the past decade. Multiple manufacturers now provide a variety of beads to imitate two concepts. The ﬁrst is size. Each bead size corresponds to a salmon species-speciﬁc egg size, with kings exhibiting the largest. Sockeye and pinks typically have the smaller eggs. A 10- to 12mm bead is used to represent a king egg, with 6- to 8mm beads representing eggs of the other four species. The second concept is bead color. Darker hues or reds and oranges simulate freshly deposited eggs. The longer that salmon eggs sit in freshwater, the

more opaque and eventually a grayish or tannish color they become. Bead rigs for fly fishing or spinning rod set-ups are simple. The bead is inserted through the line and pegged to the mainline with a Peg-It or toothpick. A No. 2 to 8 bead hook (e.g. Gamakatsu C14S or Trout Beads Bead Hook) is tied on. Two 3/0 split shots are crimped around 12 to 18 inches above the bead hook. Additional split shot can be used in higher water conditions. Depth setting is established with a bobber or strike indicator. Once it vanishes, as if sucked into a whirlpool, it's fish on! -ML

upstream casts. After a primary and secondary mend, the current transported the bead rig on its way in and around boulders. Midway through the presentation, the pink or orange indicators vanished in the blink of an eye and a rainbow trout soared above the surface like a projectile. The ﬁghting ability of these trout is nothing short of spectacular – it's quite possibly why

it is so difficult to terminate any good ﬁshing session on them. But like a good book, all great stories do come to an end. We had our short window of opportunity ﬁshing beads for rainbows, and it was awesome.

did not have to take five years of college classroom studies as a fisheries undergraduate to know what was going on in the underwater world of Montana Creek. Prior to this experience, I had moved to Alaska in the summer of 2006 on an ambitious quest to study and put fundamentals of fish science to the test on the waters during my angling adventures across the state. One afternoon while browsing the aisles of a Sportsman’s Warehouse in Fairbanks, I saw rows and rows of beads in different shapes, textures and colors. They imitated different phases of salmon egg deterioration as the summer progressed. As I scanned the beads, I pondered why in the hell a rainbow trout would want to eat a tiny, insignificant blob floating in the water column when it could chase down bigger prey such as sculpins, salmon smolts, or other forage fish. Being inexperienced at the time, it took an on-the-water experience to realize the importance these beads had in producing large numbers of trout, as well as trophy rainbows. I remember my first experience at Montana Creek. It was the summer of 2007, my first full one in the Interior, and I found myself headed southbound towards the spring-fed clearwater tributaries of the Susitna River drainage in Southcentral Alaska to pursue large wild rainbows with fly gear. Doing just that had been a dream of mine since high school days spent staring at magazine photos of 30-inch-plus rainbows. With the dream now about to be-

ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL

AFTER OBSERVING THE SALMON and rainbows, I understood the importance of this signiﬁcant predator-prey interaction. It

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coome reality, friends and I left the smoky realms of Fairbanks behind as our Ford Explorer rolled along the Parks Highway through barren snowcapped 3,000- to 8,000-foot mountains of the Alaska Range. The late-night drive took my breath away, as I had never witnessed what “true” 24-hour daylight was like compared to the usual darkness of ﬁshing endless summers back home in Wisconsin. Mile by mile, my anticipation built and surged. Sleep was not an option at this point – Led Zeppelin’s raging Jimmy Page guitar solos and Robert Plant’s god-like vocals provided instant adrenaline hits. A pit stop for coffee in Talkeetna meant we were just minutes away from Montana Creek, and a gas station burrito overcooked on a campﬁre provided the fuel for what ever the day had in store. Kids – lined up as if preparing for recess – stood ready on the shoreline up- and downstream of the Parks Highway bridge, spinning rods engaged like swords drawn for battle. One by one, spinners launched into

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The author caught this ’bow at Montana Creek, a spot near Talkeetna that's provided him with great ﬁshing for egg-eating trout. (MIKE LUNDE)

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the water like projectiles, each landing with a plop. The mountain air was suddenly interrupted by the sounds of singing drags, as foul and legally hooked pinks took to the air or raced downstream, their oversized humps streaking across the surface like tiny shark ﬁns. I stepped between two families of four targeting pinks in the middle of the channel, leaving adequate space for their lines. A few feet in front of me were three salmon, their humps partially exposed to the air. I cast 30 degrees upstream, performed a mend and removed excess slack, and my bobber-like indicator drifted downstream. Twenty seconds passed and then the fluorescent pink indicator disappeared in the blink of an eye. A rainbow cartwheeled in the channel and raced downstream towards a dislodged alder on the opposite shoreline. The fish found itself between multiple branches bobbing up and down in the current, and then it surged back to the surface for another round of acrobatics, which luckily

cleared it of potential tangles. After the trout wore down, it flopped several times in the net trying to escape back to its home. This was my first wild Alaskan rainbow caught on the fly rod. I was awestruck by its appearance – an underbelly white as a fresh layer of snow, and a pink horizontal stripe brighter than on any of the Wisconsin rainbows I’d caught on countless fishing trips. His mouth contracted back and forth, sending bubbles to the surface. After extracting the hook and taking photos, we prepped the fish for release. Moving it back and forth in the water for a bit, I loosened my left hand's grip and the fish darted towards deeper water and was gone. Our group shared high-fives, I made a quick look to the sky as sign of thanks. The first of several Montana Creek memories was born.

ONE OF THE MOST important lessons I've learned in my angling career is that when a picture-perfect moment occurs, it must be taken advantage of,

as it might be quite some time before the situation repeats itself. Since discovering the salmon egg predator-prey interaction of rainbow trout, as well as other predatory gamefish that consume salmon eggs, I can say that whenever schools of spawning salmon are observed anywhere in a river system, egg patterns are what you should present in order to be successful. Document your success stories as I do in a Rite in the Rain journal to predetermine the proper fishing window, as this style of fishing is all about timing. Before and after the salmon spawning season, the distribution of rainbow trout is often a mystery. Also, another important takeaway from this experience is the theme of respect. Although we were obsessed with catching giant rainbows in a picturesque setting, the stream was lined with families, so please remember to ask to fish nearby instead of aggressively walking into others' spot. This common courtesy will earn respect. And maybe some monster trout in your net. ASJ

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FLY MONTH OF THE

Alaska features some of the world’s premiere waters for fly fishing, so we thought it would be a good idea to share some of the best Alaska-inspired flies available for your fishing destinations in the Last Frontier.

SALMON FLESH FLIES

ne of the most significant predator-prey interactions that occurs each summer in Alaska’s freshwaters is a byproduct of the annual salmon spawning runs. As Chinook, coho, sockeye, pinks and chums migrate upstream, their bodies deteriorate, some more quickly than others, but after spawning, they all soon die. As their carcasses spin helplessly downstream, they often fall to the bottom or get hung up on suspended debris on inside or outside stream banks. Popular gamefish – rainbow trout, Dolly Varden, and Arctic grayling – take advantage of this situation for one primary reason. Since this source of food is only driven by current flow and is not actively evasively swimming off like a baitfish, minimal energy expenditure is required for forage on it. When tying flesh flies, multiple color combinations are used, with hues of reddish-orange and red being tops, followed by flesh-pink and apricot. Other effective color combinations in early fall are white, cream, and hues of tan or gray, which represent the final decomposition phase before the flesh is broken down organically by microorganisms. A tan/orange combination indicates a side of the flesh is still in fresh condition whereas the other is decomposing. To create a flesh fly, center-tie in a 3-inch piece of salmon-flesh-colored rabbit strip on the back section of the hook. Palmer the front section forward to form the body, while the back section serves as the tail. Tie in a sparse marabou feather. Palmer around the hook shank two to three times max. The best technique and presentation for using salmon flesh flies is a standard traditional wet fly swing with minimal to no slack, so you can feel the strike. Some anglers will dead drift the patterns on indicator rigs connected to long, tapered fluorocarbon leaders. -Mike Lunde

Gamefish like rainbow trout, Dolly Varden and Arctic grayling that feed on salmon carcasses will strike flesh fly patterns. (MIKE LUNDE) aksportingjournal.com | SEPTEMBER 2017

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ALASKA SPORTFISHING EXPEDITIONS COMPANY NAME Alaska Sportﬁshing Expeditions LOCATION Three ﬁshing lodges in and around Ketchikan CONTACT (888) 564-4525; KetchikanAlaskaFishing.com

ith three lodges in or near the Southeast Alaska fishing mecca of Ketchikan, Alaska Sportfishing Expeditions has its share of opportunities to get on some of the state’s best salmon waters. Certainly there aren’t many more spectacular spots to visit (and catch a lot of fish) than Ketchikan’s location on Alaska’s Inside Passage. The three lodges, Cloverpass Resort, Silverking Lodge and The Cedars Lodge, cater to a wide variety of fishing options. We caught up with Michael Briggs, the lodges’ sales and marketing manager, to tell us more.

Alaska Sporting Journal What is the backstory on how Alaska Sportﬁshing Expeditions was formed? Michael Briggs Kirk Thomas had a floatplane airline in Ketchikan called Tyee Air for a number of years. In 1985, he converted a building on the waterfront in Ketchikan into The Cedars Lodge. That same year, he also opened a floating lodge near Grant Island (about 25 miles north of Ketchikan) called Silverking Lodge (it was moved on to the land at Grant Island a few years later, so it is no longer a floating lodge). From the beginning, each lodge was devoted to a different purpose: guided fishing at Cedars and a self-guided experience at Silverking. Clover Pass Resort is the oldest continually operated fishing lodge in Southeast Alaska, first opening in 1951. In 2003, Clover Pass Resort was purchased by the Thomas family, and they have been operating it ever since.

ASJ How did you get involved with the Thomas family and the lodge? MB I grew up in Shafter, California (in the state’s San Joaquin Valley), and fishing was a big part of my upbringing, with the whole family traveling around the state for trips to different lakes or fishing in the Pacific Ocean. I lived in Los Angeles for a number of years and worked in the music business, mostly promoting records to radio. I moved back to the Bakersfield area in 2004, where I met my wife. She is of Athabascan descent and would often bring up the idea of moving to Alaska. I shrugged off those suggestions for the most part until I stumbled upon the town of Ketchikan online. I fell in love with this place without ever having been here, and I told my wife that I would move to Alaska if we could live here. She agreed, and we came up in February 2010. I met Russell Thomas (Kirk’s son, and now the head guy in the company) shortly thereafter, and after discuss-

ing some marketing ideas with him, he offered me a job.

ASJ Tell us about the three lodges as part of Alaska Sportfishing Expeditions and what they offer to your guests. MB Each lodge has a different experience. The Cedars Lodge is in downtown Ketchikan on the waterfront. Cedars caters to guests who want to experience fishing in Alaska with a guide. There are no self-guided options at Cedars, but we use the very best local guides to ensure an amazing fishing excursion for our guests. Silverking Lodge on Grant Island caters to those guests who can handle themselves on the water and want a remote Alaskan experience. The package at Silverking is always a sixnight self-guided trip, with guests arriving on Monday and departing on Sunday. Clover Pass Resort is kind of the best of both worlds. We offer guided fishing, along with some self-guided options. There is no minimum length of stay, so we can mix and match guided days with self-guided days to create an itinerary that meets the guests’ desires and budget. All packages at each lodge include accommodations, meals, bait and tackle, processing of the entire catch, and airport transfers, along with fishing. ASJ The waters around Ketchikan provide some of Alaska’s best fishing opportunities. Give us a rundown of what the fishing is like for guests at the lodges. MB Since we are located on the Inside Passage, the waters around Ketchikan are very well protected. Even though the aksportingjournal.com | SEPTEMBER 2017

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water may be 500 feet deep or more, the surface is usually fairly calm. Ketchikan is known as the “Salmon Capitol of the World” and we get all five species of Pacific salmon migrating through the area, plus halibut and a number of different rockfish species. When fishing with our guides, you will target all the available salmon species and halibut on each excursion, ensuring a wide variety of fish make it home with you. When self-guided, the guest can choose to fish for whatever species suits them that day. We have 14-foot Livingston skiffs as part of the basic package at both Clover Pass Resort and Silverking Lodge, but upgrades to a 20-foot Thunder Jet with either a 90- or 150-horsepower engine are available. The skiffs are suitable for two people, while up to four can fish comfortably from the larger boats. We provide Shimano rods with Penn reels to troll for salmon, and Ugly Sticks with Penn reels for bottomfishing.

ASJ One of the best experiences for guests at an Alaskan fishing lodge is the food. What kind of dining options can they expect? MB Every morning our guests are greeted with a hot breakfast. If the guest is headed out with a guide, a lunch will be prepared for them to take out on the boat, since they will be out all day. If they are doing a self-guided trip, they are welcome to make a lunch to take with them or come back to the lodge for a hot lunch. We have fresh fruit, chips, water, soda, cookies, and other snacks for them throughout the day. Then each night, the guest is treated to a great dinner. At Clover

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Pass Resort, for example, they always serve a seafood entree and a beef/chicken/pork entree, along with side dishes, appetizers and dessert.

ASJ Is there anything else you want to say about a 2018 trip to the lodges for potential guests? MB Anytime from June through September is a great time to visit Ketchikan, depending on what the guest wants to target. If they’re looking specifically for king salmon, that run peaks in mid-June. In July, all the species converge in our waters, making it a great time to visit if you aren’t concerned with which species you are catching but want to catch a lot of fish. The pinks and chums will taper off through August, while the fall silver run approaches. As the calendar turns to September, you get to experience the peak of the fall coho run. Since these silvers are not competing with other species for food, they tend to fatten up pretty good. Summer silvers may average 8 to 10 pounds, while fall silvers average 12 to 14 pounds, making September a highly desirable time to visit us. Halibut can be caught all summer, but they tend to be more aggressive earlier in the year. We are only a 90-minute flight from Seattle, making Ketchikan one of the most convenient destinations in Alaska to reach. In many instances, you can fly to Ketchikan and fish the same day you travel. And since we are so close to the airport, you will be able to take home all the fish you catch. ASJ Editor’s note: To discuss options for 2018, call Michael Briggs at (888) 564-4525.

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