Alaska youth caribou hunt

[Txtourist]

Alaskan friend who is a really new hunter asked me to come along on his son’s youth caribou hunt in August. I’ve fished up there a bunch and will actually be there to fish a few days before the hunt, but have never hunted.
Any and all advice is welcome.
What I know;
We’ll have a side by side
We’re tent camping
Last year they tagged out in few hours
I’m there to help glass, swat mosquitos, gut and teach them to process and enjoy the experience.
Last year they had numerous bear encounters and had a sow and cubs come in while taking down camp after getting their tags filled.
I normally bring a 10mm fishing, but am trying to decide if I should bring a rifle along, and if a 25-06 is enough, or if I should go larger? Could also bring a shotgun.
My friend is not one I want to rely on in a tense situation.

[Gerald G]

12 ga with slugs would be about the best you could have.

[Killer]

12 ga. With slugs or buckshot for bears is what I would want. I would get a battery powered electric fence charger and several fiberglass fence rods with about 250ft of electric horse tape to put around camp. You will need one ground rod. You can get ones that run off 4 D batteries.
Get the kids and your self real good head nets for the bugs!

[austinRecurve]

My buddy and his son did a youth caribou hunt last year (they're residents), unit 13.

Unless laws have changed, I believe you can't kill a bear to save game meat, you have to let them have it.

[RR 314]

Shotgun or a large caliber rifle. .25-06 isn't an ideal charge stopper. :-)

[S-3 Ranch]

Shotgun or a large caliber rifle. .25-06 isn't an ideal charge stopper. :-)

25-06 is better than a 10mm IMO
A shotgun is better ( and maybe you can hunt some birds)

That battery powered E fence sounds good, ( we had bears in camp when I was there)
A head net , long sleeve shirts and 100% deet & Avon skin so soft for bugs

Have fun and enjoy

[CaptBarbary]

Alaskan friend who is a really new hunter asked me to come along on his son’s youth caribou hunt in August. I’ve fished up there a bunch and will actually be there to fish a few days before the hunt, but have never hunted.
Any and all advice is welcome.
What I know;
We’ll have a side by side
We’re tent camping
Last year they tagged out in few hours
I’m there to help glass, swat mosquitos, gut and teach them to process and enjoy the experience.
Last year they had numerous bear encounters and had a sow and cubs come in while taking down camp after getting their tags filled.
I normally bring a 10mm fishing, but am trying to decide if I should bring a rifle along, and if a 25-06 is enough, or if I should go larger? Could also bring a shotgun.
My friend is not one I want to rely on in a tense situation.

You need to better define which type of bear they had an encounter with. More than likely it was a Grizzly but there are plenty of black bears up there too.

I would not want to stand toe to toe with a grizzly with a 10mm. I’ve been around quite a few Kodiak Brown Bears and had a shotgun and bear spray every time.

Do you know what area in Alaska you’ll be hunting?

[Txtourist]

You need to better define which type of bear they had an encounter with. More than likely it was a Grizzly but there are plenty of black bears up there too.

I would not want to stand toe to toe with a grizzly with a 10mm. I’ve been around quite a few Kodiak Brown Bears and had a shotgun and bear spray every time.

Do you know what area in Alaska you’ll be hunting?

We’ll be between Cantwell and Healy.
Brown bears are the ones they’re running into.
I spoke with my buddy and he has a few shotguns we can bring along. Another friend up there has a 338 RUM I can use as well, so things are coming together.
Thanks for all the insights and keep them coming

[blackfoot1]

Just don’t keep the meat/food near your tent. If he’s an Alaskan, he might be able to get an OTC tag depending on the unit. That way if you do have a bear problem, you can shoot It and keep It. Or you can get a black bear tag and hunt, no guide needed for them. I’m headed right now to go hunt brown bear. Went to check my bait on Tuesday not expecting to see anything and ran into a big brown fuzz ball at 30 yards. We both said O crap at the same time. A serviceman died on JBER yesterday from a bear attack.

[Txtourist]

Trip was a success! I met up with friends last Saturday after a few days of fishing on the Kenai. Packed the gear and left Wasilla early Sunday to get up to unit 13.
We made it with to the trailhead no tire or fuel issues, but it really began to rain hard as we loaded our gear in the side by side. Pro-tip- pack your gear and load it with a sprinkler running, so you know just how water tight all your gear needs to be before you head out…
I had to repack a bit and get my rain gear out, as well as some warmer gear situated for when we made camp. Hard to describe the feeling of heading out in bad weather and really wondering if you’re truly prepared. We brought enough food and gas to stay out the entire five day season if need be, heading out from the trailhead the night before season began. The plan was to head about 10-20 miles back in and make camp if we found a herd just a natural funnel.
We crossed untold sloughs and rivers and at one point the trail and a river/creek were all the same for quite a while. There were caribou tracks on the trail within the first few miles as well as copius amounts of bear scat. Bear scat of size and quantity that I once again was assessing my actual preparedness for this whole endeavor.
I also became a bit nervous about the fact that aside from the trail, the brush and alders were all about eyeball height tall. It seemed like an impossible place to hunt, but I stayed quiet as we continued deeper into the scrubby mountains.
The trail grew steeper and the loose mud changed to rocks and gravel as we really began to climb. Occasionally I’d catch a glimpse of a plump blueberry cluster, but I thought better of asking to stop, secretly hoping there would be good blueberries near camp.
The shrubs quickly grew much shorter and the views became more breathtaking; as well as ideal for spotting game. The alpine tundra was suddenly all around us with big rolling mountain tops with veins of shattered rock jutting out of moss. It’s like no other mountains I’ve experienced.
We slowly crusied along a trial terraced into these rolling mountains, popping in and out of clouds while the rain steadily fell on our goretex covered hunting party.
Occasionally, I’d say stop, and pull my binoculars out, only to realize I saw a slightly off colored rock or clump of grass in the distance. The rain let up and the clouds lifted enough to reveal the most incredible views with the bald mountains as a backdrop behind us and everything else cascading towards the rivers below us.
The wind began to come up out of the valleys and we found a deep cut to set the tents in for the night, taking advantage of the break in rain.
The sun popped out and the wind began to settle down as the tents and sleeping bags were situated. We drove about a mile down wind of camp and had a feast of mountain house chicken and rice. I left my silverware in the truck, but managed a decent spoon from the can lid.
We ate quickly, as the wind stopped and the temperature rose, we knew the bugs would be out in force. There wasn’t much to clean as we’d practically licked our plates clean. We went a bit further down the trail and stashed out weeks food supply in a clump of alder and hoped the bears would not cut our trip short for us.
After returning to camp and yet to see anything, I became a little antsy, so we decided to hike towards the river and see where we were blind looking down from camp. We made it about 20 yards from camp and it looked like a marmot minefield had gone off. Basically, a bear had recently excavated a few marmot tunnels right now near our tents!
Looking down, the terrain looks like a big soft meadow with wet areas and clumps of tall brush. In reality it’s deeply terraced with all kids of hidden draws and cut hills. A person could hide a school bus on these hillsides and you could pass within a few yards and never see it. This was a valuable perspective to have and gave me the patience to sit in one spot and glass for hours, that, and a steady supply of blueberries.
We sat around glassing noticing the many ancient caribou and game trails cut into every hill side. We stared intently, as if we’d solve some centuries old puzzle that would lead us to the caribou.
It was still light out at 9 when we decided to get up with the sun at 3:45 to start the hunt.
Sleeping in bear country had kept me awake prior to the trip, but this night the bears could have played tug of war and I wouldn’t have woken up. Infact, when I woke up on opening day, it was past 8am! I burst out of the tent into a cool cloudy dew. It was dead silent. My friend and his son were resting in the front seats of the side by side. They’d been up since 3:45 and were falling back asleep after seeing no caribou, just a massive bull moose dogging a cow a couple hundred yards below camp.
I took a watch while they napped in the tent. As the sun rose the air warmed chasing the clouds up. It felt pretty idyllic for a hot minute, until the mosquitoes once again were out. I grabbed my headset and showered myself in Deet, curious if it would dissolve gore-Tex.
Surprisingly, time seemed to fly by glassing and everyone was up and ready to head over to the food cache for a quick snack. As we left camp the clouds rolled back in with a vengeance, and the rain let loose as temperatures dropped. I kind of lost my appetite, but forced a soggy granola bar down as we headed up into the cloud covered mountains behind camp. A few minutes in we passed a father and young son headed down. They looked like drowned rats with no rain gear. We had nothing to offer with just an inadequate roof over us on the Polaris.
We parked a few hundred yards from the summit, which was blind with clouds. The rain poured down and occasionally would find entry into a sleeve or collar.
I was seriously wondering what the evening would bring, knowing there was no fire or shelter beyond a tiny nylon tent and a fancy down bag that was useless if at all wet. We had a long conversation about natives and early Alaskans hunting these mountains without modern clothing, rifles and light weight waterproof gear.
A group of Ptarmigan scurried a few yards below us, reminding us to focus on the hunt, showing life in a place that was feeling a little inhospitable.
The clouds lifted and we hiked around the side of the terraced mountains to put our minds at ease that there were no caribou close by. There were tracks and an abundance of fresh droppings which seemed to renew our interest. We sat on a natural bench 20 yards below the machine when we noticed another hunting party appear seemingly from thin air a couple miles down the valley right in front of us. They were parked for a while and then they tore off up and over the next mountain along a wide riverbed.
We figured we should stay put given all of the fresh sign in the area and not worry too much about the other group of hunters.
We glassed for about another hour, not sure if it was warming up, or we were just getting tougher. Suddenly, a brown spec appears seemingly close to where the other hunters were parked. Before I could raise my binoculars, it began to move!
Immediately, I thought this was a bear coming in to eat a discarded soggy lunch or some such thing.
When the binoculars came up I saw big brown antlers! My buddy and I both said Caribou! at the same time. His son, the hunter had been sitting in the back of the side by side to get out of the rain and wind, popped out rifle in hand.
His tag was for a bull only, second glance confirmed the antlers left zero doubt this was a bull. Even though he was about a mile off, he was headed straight up the draw towards us. We decided just to wait and see if he’d come right through the pass we were just above. The bull was making great time and I couldn’t believe he was coming almost right to us and fairly quick too.
At about 800 yards we noticed him hang up and look back. We excitedly looked back wondering not just maybe there was a larger bull coming up from the river bottom. We were shocked to see the headlights of the other group of hunters another couple miles back to the right, returning from the other valley. We knew they couldn’t see the bull from where they were, but we decided we’d better close the distance giving up our strategic vantage.
The bull was now feeding along a terrace as we quickly descended the step rock and moss patchwork.
At about 500 yards some rocks let loose making a noise that put his eyes right on us. Caribou, fortunately, are more curious than skittish at this distance. We ducked down in a cut and continued our aggressive advance. Meanwhile, the other hunting party was quartering down the rocky river bottom into north he same field of view, but several hundred yards behind the bull who continued towards us. Our cut suddenly ran out into a large meadow at the same time as the dark brown bull trotted out into the open and froze broadside at 90 yards. It happened a bit quicker than we’d planned, and it was go time. My buddies son chambered a round in the Winchester .243 his grandparents had bought him when he drew the tag months back. I was unsure at this point as to how he’d handle the excitement, remembering the night before how he’d mentioned how good a cheeseburger and fries would be, I blurted out, “if you drop him clean, I’ll buy you a cheeseburger tonite”. The bull trotted broadside about 50 yards and paused as we raised our arms up like antlers. That pause was all that was needed for 14 year old Zeke to line up and squeeze on off. There was an audible smack in that open mountain valley and some white winter coat shed into the air as the bull buckled for a split second and did the trot run that’s unique to caribou.
The bull was hit hard, but it looked a little back which was concerning, but he only went a short distance and began to become unsteady. I reminded Zeke to operate the bolt and turn the safety on, but be ready if the bull gets up. It seemed obvious that his bull was done, but we opted to sit tight for a couple minutes.
Upon walking up it was clear he’d made a nice clean lung shot, with the bullet stopping inside the chest cavity.
I’ve never gutted an animal in grizzly country. I wanted to go fast, while teaching a young hunter so he can do his own next time. I felt like a marmot popping out of his hole and constantly looking around. My buddy walked back up and navigated his way down with the side by side. In under an hour, we had the bull loaded in the machine and we were headed back to break camp. We were all pretty excited to be headed to the truck and not be spending a cold night in bear country with wet gear. Zeke pulled the trigger a little before 1pm opening day. We made great time in-spite of the added weight and reconfigured load and we were at trailhead by 6:30.
By midnight we were back in Wasilla, and by lunch time the following day we had the caribou vacuum sealed and we were eating some cheeseburgers across from the processors.

[Rhdme]

Great story! Looks Ike it was a ton of fun. Congrats!


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[32drawlength]

Congrats to the hunter
Caribou are a fantastic eating meat, def want to go back up there to hunt again someday