Northern Nomads--Adventures With Caribou

Getting There

As I stumbled out onto the road and stared down at his body, I reflected that this was a heck of a way to start out my caribou hunting adventure. I had been traveling north on Highway 200 from Hamilton, Montana, intent on making it to the Edmonton International Airport in Alberta for my flight into the Northwest Territories, usually a ten-hour drive. My plans came to an abrupt change when a nice 10-point whitetail buck connected squarely with the grill of my Suburban about 30 miles south of Great Falls. As I dragged him off the road, I noticed my radiator was almost bent in half and leaking seriously, so I gave him an apologetic pat and tore off down the highway, trying to make it to civilization before my car blew up. Amazingly, two hours later, I was in a rental car, mine was at the shop, and I was streaking up the interstate, hoping the Canadian highway patrol would be looking the other way for the next few hours.

I had booked this hunt with John Andre of Shoshone Wilderness Adventures, relating to him my interest in hunting during the last week of the season. I`ve been on several caribou hunts, all wonderful, but for once I really wanted the chance to get a nice bull out of velvet and hopefully sporting one of those snow-white late season capes. There`s always a risk of getting weathered-in at the camp during this last week, but I felt it was worth it. I couldn`t wait to see the tundra in all it`s fall splendor, and watching the caribou migrate is a wonderful experience. They`re one of my favorite big game animals, with those large, intricate antlers, beautiful multi- colored coats, and delicious meat. Add to that all the gorgeous scenery where they roam, the chance encounters with grizzlies and wolves, and the large numbers of bulls to peruse, and I would think that any serious hunter would be anxious to experience such a fun hunt.

Getting Settled In

The wind here is relentless, chasing me back to my tent cabin to escape the chill. I`ve just arrived at the Courageous Lake Caribou Camp, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after a comfortable night in Yellowknife, NWT, all ready to chase down a couple caribou.

There are 13 hunters in camp for this, the sixth and last week of the season, and we`ve all been getting settled in, admiring racks taken by previous hunters, and sighting in the rifles. According to the camp staff, the migration has been a bit delayed this year due to the unseasonably warm weather, with some of the previous hunters struggling to find their bulls around the large lake. But two days ago a storm front moved in, and caribou started arriving from the north on their way to the wintering grounds. Jim, the camp manager, sounds cautiously optimistic on our chances for a good hunt. One thing`s for sure--the heat wave is OVER. The wind is gusting at 30 mph, creating a very rough lake surface and a pretty substantial wind chill factor too.

The last of the previous week`s hunters have just returned to camp with a nice bull and a large pale wolf that they saw feeding on a recent kill. Getting a wolf is certainly not guaranteed, but some hunters get lucky.

Day 1

Leaden skies and the same raw wind and rain greeted me today as I prepared for the first of five days of hunting. Arriving solo on this hunt, I`ve been paired up with David, a doctor from Houston, up here on his first caribou hunt. Peter, a native Inuit Eskimo, will be our guide. After a huge hearty breakfast and several worried glances at that rough lake, we finally pushed off in a large aluminum boat to check out the shores of Courageous Lake for caribou. It soon became apparent that the weather would be a factor during our hunt, as our boat was tossed by the waves and buffeted by the wind. The stinging rain and rolling breakers definitely made a leisurely boat ride a bit problematic. Thankfully we went ashore several times, climbing to high rocky points in the tundra to glass for animals. We saw a few scattered groups of cows and calves and several adult bulls, but nothing large enough to be tempting. The caribou`s multi-toned coat blends surprisingly well into the tundra colors of red and gray, which were muted today by the fog and rain. We finally called it a day, glad to return to camp and dry out a bit.

Courageous Lake Camp is certainly not my idea of roughing it--quite a posh arrangement for a weary hunter. Snug tent cabins have propane stoves for heat, and the central dining tent even has satellite TV, powered by a generator. Meals are sumptuous and enormous, and there are showers and a washer and dryer, if needed (there are also private facilities for ladies, which I appreciated!). Lynn Stevens, a taxidermist from Wyoming, is here to take care of the animals that come in...he`s busy working late tonight on the half-dozen bulls that were taken by members of our group today. Most of them saw many caribou, so I know it`s only a matter of time and of course, luck. So much of caribou hunting is luck, really; being in the right place and having a big bull within range. Although they can be quite approachable at times, there`s no catching up with them once they`re on the move.

Day 2

Yes indeed, they`re stacking up now! We just pulled into camp after a busy day, and the heads were piled high on the skinning table. It was another gray and blustery day, with spits of rain. During several long hikes we glassed quite a few caribou restlessly feeding and moving along the lake edge. If they spotted us on top of a hill, the cows would often approach to within 50 yards, curious about what we were.

After lunch, our guide Peter spotted a small group of bulls, and as one seemed a likely prospect, off we went on a stalk. It had been agreed that David would shoot first, and I struggled to video-tape his hunt as the caribou became aware that something was up and ran along a ridge top in a tight bunch. They finally presented Dave with a rather long shot at 300 yards. In the excitement another bull was hit too, but since he was quite nice, Dave was pleased. That`s another advantage to caribou hunting; you`re permitted two tags if you wish. It took a couple hours to cape and skin the bulls, and Peter`s pack was very heavy with all the meat. When we pulled into camp we noticed that almost every boat had a load of caribou, all being very nice bulls. Well--I guess it`s my turn now!

Day 3

They say good things come to those that wait. Guess I haven`t waited long enough! The good news is, the rain and clouds finally gave us a reprieve in the mid-afternoon. By then, we`d prowled the lake shore, hiked to several promontories and seen hundreds of caribou, almost all being cows and calves, with a few young bulls in attendance. Where were the big bulls?

We finally found a small bachelor herd of mature fellows, some actually sound asleep on their sides, with their heavy antlers laying on a tundra pillow. Although several were quite nice, and had those brilliant white capes I dream about, none had that magic combination of palmated tops, thick bezes and a good shovel, so I passed. The tundra was gorgeous in the late afternoon sun, and we enjoyed picking bear berries and blueberries during periods of glassing. Seeing the sun was a treat, although the wind picked up and the lake was worse than ever...I wonder what the wind chill factor is at 15 knots and 35 degrees? We enjoyed fairly close looks at some of the herds, watching bulls start to lock antlers and shove half-heartedly, anticipating the fierce rutting duels to come next month. Another five beautiful trophies came into camp tonight, so here`s hoping that tomorrow is the day.

Day 4

Well, I certainly can`t complain about not getting enough sleep around here. We all turn in by 8-9 pm, and breakfast is at 7:00, so everyone is pretty perky in the morning. Dave, Peter and I headed out under cloudy skies for the South Bay near the Jolly Lake inlet, an area where quite a few of the guys had gotten their caribou, as the river creates a natural funnel for the migrating herds. The temperature had dropped 8-10 degrees, and ice was forming on us and the boat as we splashed along.

After a hike to a hilltop, we spied a bedded group of bulls along an inland lake shore over a mile away, too far to tell much else. We stalked closer, and once Peter set up his spotting scope (mandatory equipment over here), I examined the group of 20 sleeping bulls. It was hard to decipher which antlers went with what bull, but after a fashion, I managed to isolate two that I liked, one in particular, although we could never get a good look at his shovel while he dozed. As soon as we descended into the valley where they were resting, they naturally got up and strolled right back to the very rocks we had been glassing from, giving us partial glimpses of the two bulls I favored as they grazed. One had nice long points on top and incredibly long "backscratcher" points, but not much in the way of shovel or bezes. The other bull had very long main beams, heavy palmated bezes and a good shovel, but no long points on top. I had chosen him, but kept wavering, as the other bull was really unusual and had a glowing white cape. This guy was feeling a bit feisty, engaging others in the group for a bit of a tussle as they passed. Since they would have seen us instantly if we`d moved, we were pinned down in the valley until they crested the hill, which seemed to take about a million years. Once they were over, we scrambled up after them, and I found a good rock to rest my rifle on.

First a few cows and young bulls worked their way up a draw full of willows, appearing briefly before continuing over the hill crest. Then the backscratcher bull appeared, feeding his way up the ravine. After taking a quick look through my scope, I changed my mind again and decided to try for him. Once he cleared the bushes I took a shot at 225 yards with my Tikka .280, and he stumbled and went down. Suddenly, the other bull appeared on the skyline, and now that I had my first really good look at him, it was obvious he was exceptional as well, so I quickly put a bead on his shoulder, fired, and whooped and hollered as he crashed over backwards about 50 yards from the first bull.

Wow---it was quite exciting! And the sun even made a special appearance as we dragged the bulls together for a once in a lifetime photo; two beautiful bulls taken in the same moment. I still couldn`t decide which one I liked better, so I was tickled pink to be taking them both home with me. It was quite a hike back to the boat, but eventually we had them in camp, where everyone exclaimed over the 19" back points on bull #1. Both scored very well, and I couldn`t be happier! Lady Luck was smiling on me today.

Day 5

With only three bulls to go until we were all tagged out, the camp was in a pretty good mood. We finally awoke to a sunny day, and I was determined to get a few photos of scenery and hopefully some wildlife. Perhaps the nice weather had something to do with it, but the caribou were hard to find today. It made me even more thankful that I`d had such good luck the day before. The others returned, having found those last three bulls, and we`re all reflecting on the great week of hunting, while the staff is scurrying around preparing the camp for the off-season. It seems amazing that all these tents and buildings can remain intact throughout the long dark winter, but this camp has been a fixture here for many years. We`ll fly our meat out tomorrow, and most of our racks and capes will leave with the taxidermist, who will transport them back to the States.

Although I`ve been on four caribou hunts now, it`s hard to imagine not coming back to the NWT for another adventure. I really enjoy the scenery, the camaraderie, making new friends, and the privilege of bringing such gorgeous trophies and yummy meat back home. Can`t wait to come again!

Courageous Lake Revisited

How lucky can I be, I muse, as I watch a rain squall move across the bay, urged on by icy winds heralding winter's approach. I've just finished yet another terrific late season hunt here at Courageous Lake, and enjoyed four days of unusually warm and sunny weather. That may have been a factor in this hunt's slow start; the 11 hunters in camp this time barely saw any caribou for the first two days. But on day three hundreds suddenly showed up on the western side of the lake, and we all ended up with some magnificent trophies.

After choosing a bull with heavy palmated tops and bezes, I had to wait for half an hour for him to present a clear shot amidst the herd. But what a bruiser--he has it all, good weight, double shovels and enormous multi- pointed bezes, with over 60 scorable points on his rack. He gross scores 399 6/8, and really looks terrific with his unique antlers. Everyone else took a bull too, including two others that qualify for Boone and Crockett.

Being the only hunter left in camp with a second tag, I spent day four with two guides, and we eagerly headed back to the west side, only to discover that the herd had vanished, leaving a few puzzled wolves and bears in their wake, and two old bulls who couldn't keep up. After a lucky 400 yard shot, my hunt was over.

Once again, the camraderie, scenery, services and of course the wildlife make this trip a real winner in my book. I wonder if there is ANOTHER visit to the NWT in my future...I hope so!