Tag: bush plane

Into the Tundra: Part Seven

Leigh, Travel

The following is an account of day seven of our trip to the Arctic Circle.  If you missed day six, you can catch up in quick fashion with a recap found here.

Day seven began with our now standard mochas – that Swiss Miss really hit the spot. After taking note of the grey sky, we shimmied into rain gear once again. Breakfast was granola bars, with an option of chewy or crunchy, and then we packed up for our last full day of hunting.

Just look at all that firewood. 🙁

We made our way east along the lake and then up the valley where we knew the flat area thinned and created a funnel for the caribou to travel right by us. They were not so accommodating. Hour after hour we glassed and listened. We stopped for a snack with the wind at our backs, then moved on to cross a boggy “bottleneck” toward the Double Spire. When you look out over the land, it looks grassy, with scattered tussocks, and barren areas that look orange from the dirt beneath. But when you step, water shows up out of no where and oozes up over your boot. I nearly lost mine a few times when I sank deeper in the muck, but always managed to come out with it.

Afternoon came, and still it rained, and still no caribou. We hiked to the top of a ridge deeper into the valley. The thought was always, if we can’t see beyond that ridge, we should just go there. Maybe there are tons of caribou on the other side. But in this case there weren’t tons… just two small ones huddled up together. Edgar made a noise like a momma caribou, and they got up and came toward us for a moment, before spooking. They looked too young to be alone, and I hoped they would find their herd again soon.

We took the long way back toward camp, picking our way along the bend where we had seen the limping bull and the others the day before. The sun made a brief showing so we leaned against our packs and feasted on almonds and the rest of the beef jerky. No caribou appeared, but this rainbow made a lovely showing.

We slowly headed “home”… swapping stories and singing songs. Back at the tent we built a fire, and cooked over our little two-burner stove. Dinner was potatoes and onions, and fresh caribou. Not long after dinner we were ready to turn in. We had walked 8-10 miles in the rain and wind, and were looking forward to our warm, dry bags.

Day eight was our last day in the field, or so we’d planned. But our outfitter warned us we should be ready to stay longer based on the weather. Keeping that in mind… we drifted off to sleep.

Into the Tundra: Part Two

Leigh, Travel

The following is an account of day two of our trip to the arctic circle.  If you missed day one, you can catch up in quick fashion with a recap found here.

On Friday we got packed up not-so-bright and early for the 6a flight into Kotzebue.  The journey took about 90 minutes, and most of the passengers had one common denominator: camouflage.  Nearly everyone on the flight looked like they were prepared to rough it in the elements for a few days, and hoped to fill their freezer in the process.

It makes sense.  Kotzebue is a small town, and is considered the gateway to the artic.  It’s also an island, so getting goods in or out is tricky.  (That might explain why a bag Cheetos at the local market sold for a cool $7.) Once we landed at the small airport, it wasn’t too hard to find the two young men with the name of our outfitter embroidered on their jackets.  Kaleb and TJ helped us load up into a van to take us over to the staging area.  A few other hunters shared the ride, and a couple more were already at the base camp.  There was a team of two from California, one bearded quiet guy, and one clean-shaved and chatty fellow.  Another pair of guys were traveling from Wisconsin and said they had hunted together for 30 years.  A third duo were also longtime hunting buddies from somewhere in the lower 48.

We all got busy breaking our big bags down into smaller bags, per the instructions of the outfitter.  The bush planes are small, so the pilots prefer many small bags that they can tuck into limited cargo spaces, versus just a couple larger and more cumbersome bags.  We had quite a few items when we broke everything out, and were a little nervous about how the weight would add up once they put everything on the scale.  As it turned out, my bathroom scale had set us up for success.  We were both at about 71 pounds, one pound over the limit, but the outfitter let us slide.

The plan was for us to get into the field that morning, but the wind was up and we decided to grab breakfast while we waited it out.  It was fun to chat with the other hunters and hear their stories about “that one time” when their buddy shot a big moose, or how one guy had the perfect spot for his trophy bull, until he put it on the wall and couldn’t open his back door without hitting the tines.  We all had a delicious breakfast (Edgar raved about the chicken fried steak) and a few good belly laughs before heading back to the staging area to see if it was safe to fly.

The weather was beautiful in town, but reports were that the wind was still howling en route to our camp, so it was decided we’d wait a day and get into the field on Saturday.  We resigned ourselves to the delay, and wandered around the town.  Hunting, fishing, four-wheeling and sled dog mushing are clearly the big pastimes in Kotzebue.  We also saw quite a few broken down vehicles and equipment in yards. Living in a place that remote, and for some of the year, that cold and snowy, must make it hard to get those items removed, and people probably make use of whatever parts they can.

We had a nice dinner with a view, and pondered about the journey ahead.  Would we see caribou?  Would we see bears? Was it really that tough to walk on the tundra?  What kind of camping area would they select for us, and would our gear stand the test when the Alaskan wind and rain blew into the valley?

We couldn’t wait to get out into the wilderness and see what the arctic circle had in store.