Yukon…go time
- Thread starter RdRdrFan
- Start date
medvedyt
WKR
very clever to use an outfitter with his own planes (great family by the way) and hiccups can happen the result and the way they are fixed with a positive outcome is the only interesting part. the attitude is making the difference as well.
glad it worked for you and you enjoyed our great part of the world.
glad it worked for you and you enjoyed our great part of the world.
rookieforever33
WKR
- Joined
- Aug 23, 2024
- Messages
- 478
Sounds like quite the trip so far. Looking forward to hearing more.
Day 2 - We started the day with the same climb as the night before to get on top to ridge run and check out some of the same area and one or two others. Nada.
Our guide decided that they must be on the backside of everything we had been looking at. We bomb down to camp, pack it up and drop down to the bottom and back into the Argo for the wildest ride yet. Several hours later we make it through the brush and to the river. Once upriver we set up camp and crash out around 11:00 pm.
Our guide decided that they must be on the backside of everything we had been looking at. We bomb down to camp, pack it up and drop down to the bottom and back into the Argo for the wildest ride yet. Several hours later we make it through the brush and to the river. Once upriver we set up camp and crash out around 11:00 pm.
Day 3 - We woke up to a gorgeous day and wet everything due to the condensation and camping close to the river. Our guide decided that we should bust brush down the river and up and into an area with a couple of smaller drainages and bowls that we hadn’t seen.
At one point things got a little western. We had finished busting brush down by the river and cut up a drainage and climbed a small hill. We found a tree to sit down and take a quick break before we pushed up to the ridge tops. The guide decided to get some elevation and the wrangler stayed with my son and I. After just a few minutes the wrangler quietly said “Guys we have to go NOW! He’s waving at me and there are 3 bears close to us.” My son had just stood up to turn around and pee and whispered “Guys there is one right here!” It was an older cub (2 years old maybe) with his head down feeding at 20 yards. We grabbed our stuff and the wrangler and I both had guns at hand. We took off at a good clip to get some distance. We had put probably 100 yards between us before the momma smelled something and popped up on her back two. It was the same blonde sow that we had seen two days prior. The wrangler and I both stopped and got ready. She dropped down and came running. We yelled and she stopped after 20-25 yards. A very short bluff charge but plenty enough to get the adrenaline up into full mode. When she turned around went back to her two cubs the guns were lowered and we made time up the side of that mountain…..as good of time as I could make constantly looking over my shoulder. By the time we gained roughly half of the elevation that we needed to get up top, i realized how real adrenaline dump is. I was cooked. That was a hard push for me on the second half of that climb. I had no energy at all. But back to what you really care about. Sheep. There weren’t any. So we bombed back down to the river with the hopes that the bears hadn’t messed with the Argo or any of our stuff. Back at the Argo, our guide decided we would camp at that spot again and move on the next morning. Guide and packer decided around 9:00 pm to head out to take a look around but saw nothing. They were back by 11:00 pm. About 20 minutes after everyone zipped up tents we heard running. Not light running. Heavy running. Heavy breathing. The type of pace and breathing that comes from needing to create distance. A moose or caribou (I’m fairly certain it was a moose by how the ground shook) ran through our camp. I mean THROUGH OUR CAMP. It ran between our tent and the wrangler’s tent that was 20-30 yards away. Wait. Listen. Wait. Splashes in the river let us know that something was crossing. Limbs snapping and the sound of the brush let us know that it was something large. A low growl let us know what it was. Hand on the rifle in the tent and a quick prayer was about all we had going for us at that moment. I’m glad that I had swapped tents with the guide so that my son could sleep in the tent with me that night. After 20-30 minutes of silence we tried to sleep. It was a fitful night’s rest but thankfully was uneventful from that point forward.
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At one point things got a little western. We had finished busting brush down by the river and cut up a drainage and climbed a small hill. We found a tree to sit down and take a quick break before we pushed up to the ridge tops. The guide decided to get some elevation and the wrangler stayed with my son and I. After just a few minutes the wrangler quietly said “Guys we have to go NOW! He’s waving at me and there are 3 bears close to us.” My son had just stood up to turn around and pee and whispered “Guys there is one right here!” It was an older cub (2 years old maybe) with his head down feeding at 20 yards. We grabbed our stuff and the wrangler and I both had guns at hand. We took off at a good clip to get some distance. We had put probably 100 yards between us before the momma smelled something and popped up on her back two. It was the same blonde sow that we had seen two days prior. The wrangler and I both stopped and got ready. She dropped down and came running. We yelled and she stopped after 20-25 yards. A very short bluff charge but plenty enough to get the adrenaline up into full mode. When she turned around went back to her two cubs the guns were lowered and we made time up the side of that mountain…..as good of time as I could make constantly looking over my shoulder. By the time we gained roughly half of the elevation that we needed to get up top, i realized how real adrenaline dump is. I was cooked. That was a hard push for me on the second half of that climb. I had no energy at all. But back to what you really care about. Sheep. There weren’t any. So we bombed back down to the river with the hopes that the bears hadn’t messed with the Argo or any of our stuff. Back at the Argo, our guide decided we would camp at that spot again and move on the next morning. Guide and packer decided around 9:00 pm to head out to take a look around but saw nothing. They were back by 11:00 pm. About 20 minutes after everyone zipped up tents we heard running. Not light running. Heavy running. Heavy breathing. The type of pace and breathing that comes from needing to create distance. A moose or caribou (I’m fairly certain it was a moose by how the ground shook) ran through our camp. I mean THROUGH OUR CAMP. It ran between our tent and the wrangler’s tent that was 20-30 yards away. Wait. Listen. Wait. Splashes in the river let us know that something was crossing. Limbs snapping and the sound of the brush let us know that it was something large. A low growl let us know what it was. Hand on the rifle in the tent and a quick prayer was about all we had going for us at that moment. I’m glad that I had swapped tents with the guide so that my son could sleep in the tent with me that night. After 20-30 minutes of silence we tried to sleep. It was a fitful night’s rest but thankfully was uneventful from that point forward.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Day 4 - We awoke to another beautiful, crisp Yukon morning. A quick look around camp confirmed that we indeed had visitors around. Got a food drop. Saw another grizzly. Hiked. Hiked some more. Nada. Still no sheep seen. Guide went one way while the wrangler, my son and myself went another. The guide had a close encounter with a grizzly boar and had to fire a warning shot. I was about tired of looking over my shoulder THAT much. Grizzlies are a part of the game. I get that. But that particular area seemed to be infested.
Frustration was starting to set in as it felt like we were chasing ghosts. The outfitter had told me when he flew us in and dropped us off not to get frustrated if we didn’t see anything for 2-3 days. I was doing my best to take his advice. After discussions via Inreach between the outfitter and the guide the decision was made to head back to the landing strip and stay the night there. The Argo ride was long (over 3 hours) and much of it was impossibly thick and rough. My son did get to drive the Argo for a bit once we hit a clear area and he loved that. I felt like my back had been beaten with a lead pipe when I finally got out. Nevertheless, we made it to the landing strip late and after a quick Mountain House, our heads hit the pillow well after midnight.
Frustration was starting to set in as it felt like we were chasing ghosts. The outfitter had told me when he flew us in and dropped us off not to get frustrated if we didn’t see anything for 2-3 days. I was doing my best to take his advice. After discussions via Inreach between the outfitter and the guide the decision was made to head back to the landing strip and stay the night there. The Argo ride was long (over 3 hours) and much of it was impossibly thick and rough. My son did get to drive the Argo for a bit once we hit a clear area and he loved that. I felt like my back had been beaten with a lead pipe when I finally got out. Nevertheless, we made it to the landing strip late and after a quick Mountain House, our heads hit the pillow well after midnight.
Day 5 - We were supposed to be up early to climb on the planes that would take us, two at a time, to our new hunt area. We all overslept after the long night. It didn’t matter. We had light rain at the airstrip but somewhere between us and the main camp there was weather enough that we weren’t going anywhere for the time being. At least we had a nice cabin here that they store the Argo in. By late morning the boys (guide, wrangler and my son) got bored and decided to go clear some “problem trees” at one end of the air strip. Really, I think they just wanted and excuse to go play in the Argo some more. For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure, an Argo is a spectacular piece of machinery and can take you virtually anywhere. They also have zero suspension or anything to soften the blow of any bumps. You feel EVERY rock, bump, tree, hummock…..anything it goes over, you feel it. My back had had enough of bouncing in the Argo for now. No sheep. No caribou. The only game animals seen thus far….grizzlies.
We finally caught a break in the weather so the planes came. I flew out second and landed in base camp around 5:00 pm. Dinner was served and the amazing camp cook filled us up with lasagna, salad and two kinds of cake. I don’t mind Mountain House type meals but man, that home cooked meal of “real” food was welcomed by my stomach. We were leaving out the next morning early so we were in actual beds for a night. They told us to repack for a backpack hunt but horses would be involved. As it turned out, very involved.
We finally caught a break in the weather so the planes came. I flew out second and landed in base camp around 5:00 pm. Dinner was served and the amazing camp cook filled us up with lasagna, salad and two kinds of cake. I don’t mind Mountain House type meals but man, that home cooked meal of “real” food was welcomed by my stomach. We were leaving out the next morning early so we were in actual beds for a night. They told us to repack for a backpack hunt but horses would be involved. As it turned out, very involved.
Tjdeerslayer37
Lil-Rokslider
this is killer, thanks for taking us along!
Day 6 (Part 1) - Our alarms went off at 6:30 am and breakfast was served at 8:00 am. Another amazing meal by my new favorite chef. By 10:00 am we had driven down to a trailhead with our horses and were off for what we expected to be an 8 hour, 15 km ride into sheep country. That was not to be. We were busting brush, crossing tundra, bashing through spruce forests and crossing rivers. Light showers, blazing sunshine, brief torrential downpours and an even hail at one point had us 6.5 hours and 10 km into the ride. We had taken a break for 15-20 min and were headed to saddle up when the wrangler took a moment to glass the mountain behind us. Sheep!
Day 6 (Part 2) - It was a lone ram when we put glass on him and from the distance we couldn’t tell a ton about him. But it’s day 6 and we haven’t seen a single ram yet. We are going. The guide and I grabbed our packs and my gun and attacked the mountain. We had 1,700 feet of elevation to gain and gain it fast. When we were over halfway up we checked our back trail to see if we could see my son and the wrangler coming. We could but they were too far behind to have a chance of catching us if we found the rams…….but between us there was movement and it was big. From that distance we couldn’t tell a lot about the caribou but he was good. But we had sheep to get to. We powered the rest of the way up the mountain and got to the ridge line just in time to see three rams feeding towards a saddle across the valley. When we first saw them they were already too far at almost 800 yards. But we were able to watch them long enough to decide that the ram in the rear was worth going after. We were going to have to scale some sketchy stuff in all wheel drive to get over the ridge but I’m here to kill a ram. Let’s go. We had dropped my pack several hundred yards back so the guide said he’d grab that while I caught my breath and got my mind right for what we had in front of us. Just a few minutes later I hear what sounded like a whisper. I’m looking around and finally see my guide waving at me to come on…..NOW! I grabbed his pack, my rifle and began running at a less than safe pace for a steep downhill descent on rock and shale. I had no idea why I was running but he said come on and seemed excited. When I got to him the wrangler was there as well.
Apparently they got eyes on the caribou and he was good. Very good. My son was waiting back down the mountain keeping eyes on the bull. Here we go. Back to running down rock and shale at speeds no person would do if they had spent any time on rock and shale on inclines like that but the guide and wrangler are young and I guess I’m just stupid. I grabbed my pack on the way by and handed my rifle to the wrangler and told him to give it to my son to have him set up for a shot. By the time I got there my son was set up with the rifle thrown across a pack and the caribou in the scope. I grabbed the rangefinder to see if we needed to make any adjustments. 274 yards steeply downhill. With the rifle zeroed at 300 the adjustment was 1.07 moa down. Nope. Told him to hold 1/3 of the way up and hold for a steady 3 o’clock wind at 2 moa. We are ready to go.
Then the sumbitch laid down.
So here we are, 7:00 pm on the side of the mountain. Still 950 vertical feet above where we left the horses and this guy decides it’s a good time for a nap. I am fully aware that I’m his dad but that kid was a stud. With a severe downhill angle and the stress of the situation, he was calm as a cucumber. Over an hour went by before he stood. We had to wait a few minutes before a shot presented itself but when it did…..305 yards……both lungs and the top of the heart. Bull down! And what a bull he was. According to my guide and wrangler he was the biggest bull either of them had been a part of.
Apparently they got eyes on the caribou and he was good. Very good. My son was waiting back down the mountain keeping eyes on the bull. Here we go. Back to running down rock and shale at speeds no person would do if they had spent any time on rock and shale on inclines like that but the guide and wrangler are young and I guess I’m just stupid. I grabbed my pack on the way by and handed my rifle to the wrangler and told him to give it to my son to have him set up for a shot. By the time I got there my son was set up with the rifle thrown across a pack and the caribou in the scope. I grabbed the rangefinder to see if we needed to make any adjustments. 274 yards steeply downhill. With the rifle zeroed at 300 the adjustment was 1.07 moa down. Nope. Told him to hold 1/3 of the way up and hold for a steady 3 o’clock wind at 2 moa. We are ready to go.
Then the sumbitch laid down.
So here we are, 7:00 pm on the side of the mountain. Still 950 vertical feet above where we left the horses and this guy decides it’s a good time for a nap. I am fully aware that I’m his dad but that kid was a stud. With a severe downhill angle and the stress of the situation, he was calm as a cucumber. Over an hour went by before he stood. We had to wait a few minutes before a shot presented itself but when it did…..305 yards……both lungs and the top of the heart. Bull down! And what a bull he was. According to my guide and wrangler he was the biggest bull either of them had been a part of.
Day 6 (Part 2) - It was a lone ram when we put glass on him and from the distance we couldn’t tell a ton about him. But it’s day 6 and we haven’t seen a single ram yet. We are going. The guide and I grabbed our packs and my gun and attacked the mountain. We had 1,700 feet of elevation to gain and gain it fast. When we were over halfway up we checked our back trail to see if we could see my son and the wrangler coming. We could but they were too far behind to have a chance of catching us if we found the rams…….but between us there was movement and it was big. From that distance we couldn’t tell a lot about the caribou but he was good. But we had sheep to get to. We powered the rest of the way up the mountain and got to the ridge line just in time to see three rams feeding towards a saddle across the valley. When we first saw them they were already too far at almost 800 yards. But we were able to watch them long enough to decide that the ram in the rear was worth going after. We were going to have to scale some sketchy stuff in all wheel drive to get over the ridge but I’m here to kill a ram. Let’s go. We had dropped my pack several hundred yards back so the guide said he’d grab that while I caught my breath and got my mind right for what we had in front of us. Just a few minutes later I hear what sounded like a whisper. I’m looking around and finally see my guide waving at me to come on…..NOW! I grabbed his pack, my rifle and began running at a less than safe pace for a steep downhill descent on rock and shale. I had no idea why I was running but he said come on and seemed excited. When I got to him the wrangler was there as well.
Apparently they got eyes on the caribou and he was good. Very good. My son was waiting back down the mountain keeping eyes on the bull. Here we go. Back to running down rock and shale at speeds no person would do if they had spent any time on rock and shale on inclines like that but the guide and wrangler are young and I guess I’m just stupid. I grabbed my pack on the way by and handed my rifle to the wrangler and told him to give it to my son to have him set up for a shot. By the time I got there my son was set up with the rifle thrown across a pack and the caribou in the scope. I grabbed the rangefinder to see if we needed to make any adjustments. 274 yards steeply downhill. With the rifle zeroed at 300 the adjustment was 1.07 moa down. Nope. Told him to hold 1/3 of the way up and hold for a steady 3 o’clock wind at 2 moa. We are ready to go.
Then the sumbitch laid down.
So here we are, 7:00 pm on the side of the mountain. Still 950 vertical feet above where we left the horses and this guy decides it’s a good time for a nap. I am fully aware that I’m his dad but that kid was a stud. With a severe downhill angle and the stress of the situation, he was calm as a cucumber. Over an hour went by before he stood. We had to wait a few minutes before a shot presented itself but when it did…..305 yards……both lungs and the top of the heart. Bull down! And what a bull he was. According to my guide and wrangler he was the biggest bull either of them had been a part of.
Apparently they got eyes on the caribou and he was good. Very good. My son was waiting back down the mountain keeping eyes on the bull. Here we go. Back to running down rock and shale at speeds no person would do if they had spent any time on rock and shale on inclines like that but the guide and wrangler are young and I guess I’m just stupid. I grabbed my pack on the way by and handed my rifle to the wrangler and told him to give it to my son to have him set up for a shot. By the time I got there my son was set up with the rifle thrown across a pack and the caribou in the scope. I grabbed the rangefinder to see if we needed to make any adjustments. 274 yards steeply downhill. With the rifle zeroed at 300 the adjustment was 1.07 moa down. Nope. Told him to hold 1/3 of the way up and hold for a steady 3 o’clock wind at 2 moa. We are ready to go.
Then the sumbitch laid down.
So here we are, 7:00 pm on the side of the mountain. Still 950 vertical feet above where we left the horses and this guy decides it’s a good time for a nap. I am fully aware that I’m his dad but that kid was a stud. With a severe downhill angle and the stress of the situation, he was calm as a cucumber. Over an hour went by before he stood. We had to wait a few minutes before a shot presented itself but when it did…..305 yards……both lungs and the top of the heart. Bull down! And what a bull he was. According to my guide and wrangler he was the biggest bull either of them had been a part of.
Day 6 (Part 3) - Pictures. Breakdown. Pack out heavy. All was going well until it wasn’t. A little over half way down around 12:30 am I was pointing out a hole to my son to step over when my left foot clipped it. Down I went with a heavy pack. My left leg folded under me when I went down my ankle twisted and I felt a sickening pop. At this point I’m not 100% certain what happened to my ankle but it wasn’t good. I was fairly certain my right knee was only lightly sprained. After gathering myself and finding a way to my feet I congratulated my son. He was now getting thrown into the deep end as a sheep hunter. I’m glad the outfitter had purchased all available tags for both of us.
I gimped my way down the mountain at an excruciatingly slow pace. We finally made it back to the horses at 2:00 am. They had to take care of horses, locate water and set up tents while I laid there….worthless. We finally laid our heads down in our tents at 3:15 am.
*NO PICS WITH THIS UPDATE*
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
I gimped my way down the mountain at an excruciatingly slow pace. We finally made it back to the horses at 2:00 am. They had to take care of horses, locate water and set up tents while I laid there….worthless. We finally laid our heads down in our tents at 3:15 am.
*NO PICS WITH THIS UPDATE*
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Day 7 - The horns were left on the mountain as we couldn’t get it all down in one trip so the guide and wrangler ran up the mountain and back returning with my son’s caribou head. It was just as impressive the next morning as it was the night before.
The plan had been to saddle up and ride the remaining 5 km to get to our original destination. However the guide made the decision that we would stay here. We had seen sheep and he wanted to go after them. My son was a mixture of excitement, grief, guilt, sadness, elation. He was over the moon that he would have the opportunity to hunt a real deal sheep. He felt horrible that I had gotten hurt and was going to miss the opportunity at a ram that has been YEARS in the making. He was sad that I couldn’t be there when he killed his ram (if he did). He’s a good kid. Heart like his momma.
My son slept in. He was beat after the late night pack out. The caribou and horses had to be tended to and by the time everything was done it was hot. Hotter than any day we had up to that point. They were planning on taking the horses to go check some draws and hike up into an area to check some bowls. But it was too hot and they were going to wait for the temperature to drop. We ate caribou steaks by the fire and talked. I helped my son get his pack ready and coached him up on his shot should he have the opportunity.
By 6:30 pm they rode out of camp. That would give them 5 hours of shooting light to find the sheep and get it done. And my gimpy ass could lay in the tent and read a book. Not exactly what I was expecting to be doing on day 7 if we hadn’t killed a sheep but there I was nonetheless.
5 hours later I could hear the plodding of the horses as they were nearing camp. No luck. They had hiked the ridge lines and checked out the bowls to the west. The next morning the wrangler would run up a ridge near camp to check a few other areas while the guide and my son would ride a couple of clicks east so that they could hike in from there. Maybe day 8 is the day.
*NO PICS WITH THIS UPDATE AS I WAS IN THE TENT*
The plan had been to saddle up and ride the remaining 5 km to get to our original destination. However the guide made the decision that we would stay here. We had seen sheep and he wanted to go after them. My son was a mixture of excitement, grief, guilt, sadness, elation. He was over the moon that he would have the opportunity to hunt a real deal sheep. He felt horrible that I had gotten hurt and was going to miss the opportunity at a ram that has been YEARS in the making. He was sad that I couldn’t be there when he killed his ram (if he did). He’s a good kid. Heart like his momma.
My son slept in. He was beat after the late night pack out. The caribou and horses had to be tended to and by the time everything was done it was hot. Hotter than any day we had up to that point. They were planning on taking the horses to go check some draws and hike up into an area to check some bowls. But it was too hot and they were going to wait for the temperature to drop. We ate caribou steaks by the fire and talked. I helped my son get his pack ready and coached him up on his shot should he have the opportunity.
By 6:30 pm they rode out of camp. That would give them 5 hours of shooting light to find the sheep and get it done. And my gimpy ass could lay in the tent and read a book. Not exactly what I was expecting to be doing on day 7 if we hadn’t killed a sheep but there I was nonetheless.
5 hours later I could hear the plodding of the horses as they were nearing camp. No luck. They had hiked the ridge lines and checked out the bowls to the west. The next morning the wrangler would run up a ridge near camp to check a few other areas while the guide and my son would ride a couple of clicks east so that they could hike in from there. Maybe day 8 is the day.
*NO PICS WITH THIS UPDATE AS I WAS IN THE TENT*
UKwildcatfan
Lil-Rokslider
Dang. At 14, I was hoping for a limit of squirrels and to actually lay eyes on a whitetail that season.
Awesome trip you guys are on.
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