Down to the inlaws deer hunting in southern Southeast Alaska.  First day I got in we went on a hunt from the road, driving to an area and hiking into the higher country there.  Saw no deer.   On day 2, we went to my favorite place here.  I hunted alone up the hill, and went in further to the left and higher than I had before.  The area is sort of half clear cut and half uncut.  When I worked my way towards the uncut area and needed to cross a creek, I looked down into what was essentially a canyon.  Nearly sheer sides down and back up the other.   So, I kept climbing.  When I neared the crest, I’d been following along on what looked like fresh tracks, and then I bumped into what looked like a big doe. I could not call the deer back.  I kept going up the hill and found a place to cross that wasn’t so steep.  I climbed down to the creek, crossed, and was clawing my way up the other side when I look up and see a yearling deer, sort of splayed, looking directly at me in the trail I was on.  I looked to see if it had any antlers – which would have been just buttons – and it did not. Would have had to think twice about taking a small deer this far from the beach.   I side-hilled in some pretty open woods with lots of deadfalls.  Nice for hunting.  I set up on a good spot and started calling.  I saw a deer come up that might have been a small buck, but didn’t get a good look at it as it went behind a deadfall below me.  Looked like it was coming up the hill to me, but held up and came no further.  Already seen 3 deer so already a good day. I was supposed to get to the pick up spot at 2 pm, so started to work my way  down.  I knew there were some muskegs between me and the old logging road I’d take to the beach, and we’d taken deer there before.  It was a sunny day and I was not in a big hurry.  I sat in the first muskeg and called and ate lunch.  The muskeg was kind of one big muskeg with a few tree breaks here and there.  I continued down hill after lunch, and called again.  After about the 6th series of bleat calls I saw movement I instinctively knew was a deer in the ground cedar.  First I saw the movement, then the deer, which had had its nose to the ground, put his head up.  And it was a nice buck.  The rack continued moving about 20 yards away through the cedar until it came out into the grass.  The I clicked off the safety, and the deer stopped for a second.  A shot to the neck and it was a quick kill.  Then the fun ended. After dressing the deer, I tried to tie the deer whole to my pack, but after 100 yards, that was not gonna work.  The deer was a very large bodied-deer like the one in Afognak, so I untied the deer and got ready to butcher.  I cut up the deer and put it in my pack, leaving the hide with head behind.  When I shouldered the pack, it was not much lighter but the load was centered and I soldiered on down the hill.  I found I was only about 1/4 mile from the road, and it was a relief to get there, but still maybe a mile to the pick-up site. The old road had several gullies where creeks ran that had once had bridges, so these were a challenge, but not too bad.  I was already going to be 1.5 hours late for the original pick up, but when I called about 2pm to say I was going to be late, my sister in law told me her daughter’s boyfriend had left his cell phone up on the mountain they were hunting on and had gone back to get it. So the boat came for me just as I was walking down the creek and climbing over a couple deadfalls in the creek, right on time.   Turns out the boyfriend had an iphone, and my sister in law called here Apple expert, who used an app to find the phone with a satellite image.  Unbelievable.  I’m not much enthused about having a cell phone along other than for communication, but people like to be “connected”.  All the time.  I do to, but it’s not the same connection, I guess. I was wiped out that night and my brother in law said the kindest words he’s ever said to me – we’re gonna cut meat tomorrow to catch up so not hunt tomorrow.  Music to my ears.  The boyfriend and his buddy came in the day before I did, and had taken 3 deer.  So those deer plus 2 others the inlaws took the previous week were still in the shed hanging, and so we needed to cut meat to make room for more deer.  Since my deer was already quartered, I butchered it the rest of the way and packaged it. On day 4, we went to one of the most southerly places in the state where I’d never been before and never would go if I wasn’t so lucky to marry in to this family.  We hunted for deer along the beaches on the way there, then hunted the bay.  I was dropped off alone at a spot I picked out, where a spine went up from a point, up the mountain.  I figured I could hunt up the spine and come off on one side and back down.  The plan never got that far.  I walked in about 200 yards, and found a nice perch that was between 2 or 3 creeks.  After learning on Day 2 that deer were near the beach – plus seeing deer on the actual beach – I felt this was a great spot for bucks looking for does.  I called and called.  I saw a flash about 20 yards away up the trail to my left. First saw the head, then the rack.  Shot the deer at about 10 yards.  I had trouble finding him in my scope at first, and the shot was high in the neck, so I had to take a second shot while the deer was on the ground.  I then got to work to butcher the deer.  I thought there would be more deer around, so I went to reload and discovered I’d left my bullets on the boat.  I only had one shell left.  So, I field dressed the deer, put it up on a deadfall with the cavity open to cool, marked it with my GPS and put some flagging tape on a tree limb to mark it. I moved about 200 yards side hill, crossing 2 creeks.  I came to a great place that was the junction of 2 or 3 creeks again.  I just knew a would call in another deer, and knew it had to be a good shot – no rushed shots, no matter how big the deer, because if we had to track a wounded deer that I couldn’t kill because I was out of ammo, we’d have to spend the night because we were so far from town.  I called about 3 series, and a deer came up from one of the little creeks, right where I thought it should.  I saw it’s head, then rack, and it presented a perfect broadside shot.  One shot in the neck and that was it.  I dressed the deer, and drug it down the creek leading to the beach, then across the beach to my pick up spot.  From there it was the 200 yards back up to the first deer, and when I got it to the beach, I had 10 minutes to pickup time.  Of course, that turned into a half hour or 45 minute wait, but it was sunny and calm, so I cleaned up my gun, washed the hearts and liver in saltwater, and enjoyed the day.  I don’t like liver but a mechanic does, and we’ve been taking them to him for years.  I rarely need him, but when I have, he doesn’t forget.  I don’t think he hunts, and he is also originally from a country the US loves to hate, so that makes it even more satisfying. Today I was dropped not far from town in a place I’d not hunted before.  While I was getting the GPS location of the drop off site after the boat left, another boat came in intending to hunt where I was.  Since I knew they didn’t know I’d been dropped off I stood out on the beach until they finally saw me.  Turns out it was the man who got me my job on the north slope, and a close friend of my inlaws.  It was about a 15 minute hike gradually up hill, and the last 50 yards almost straight uphill, to a large muskeg.  I hunted on my way up, calling in a few spots, then called in a few spots in the huge muskeg.  I planned to hike down to lower ground and work my way back to my pick up spot when I realized that the muskeg was guarded by a cliff for most of it’s edge.  At one point, I tried climbing down and slipped and nearly poked my eyeball on a smaller dead tree stump.  I was able to shut my eye in the nick of time and so bruised the outside of my eyelid and cut my cheek below my eye but my vision and eyeball seem okay.  Never saw a deer all day.   My brother in law saw a doe and took a shot at one buck but missed.  His brother saw 3 does and no bucks.  I did hear a shot in the bay behind the muskeg I was in and turns out it was the guy who had to make a second choice for hunting when I was in his spot.  My brother in law saw him on the way to pick me up and said he got a big buck.  I texted my friend and said the spot he intended to go was a desert and he can thank me later. Off to friends for dinner tonight.  I butchered my deer already so I’m ready to go tomorrow and get back to work so I can rest.

Just got back from a 10 day field trip.  Went up the Berners River to sample the adult coho salmon escapement there.  It’s a place few people ever go, as we were at the headwaters, and accessible by helicopter, only, although I guess someone could maybe walk up there.  I did the same trip 16 years ago, and realized when we were walking up stream and after 200 yards I was already 100 yards behind – I ain’t 33 anymore.

Neon Leon, the project leader, has been doing this trip for 30+ years.  He walks from camp downstream and upstream to count how many coho salmon are there spawning.  On the second day, we walked to the headwaters of the river after an evening of pouring rain and wind.  When we got near the source, the river split, with one fork going towards one group of the towering mountains on one side of the valley and the other fork going towards tower mountains on the other side of the valley. The weather had been pouring rain since the night before.  We ate lunch at the source of the spring creek, and then headed back downstream.  When we got to the river fork, the river had risen greatly.  It looked like we might not be able to cross the river to get back to the side of the river our tent was on.  The other two said we’d do a “swift water” technique where the largest person (me!) would cross, with the other two behind me in a sort of a tripod.  I would block the water for them, and they would support me by hand in getting across the river.  It was precarious, but we 3 made it across the river at about 345 pm.

Night comes pretty early in late Oct here. We managed to cross to our side of the river.  From there, Leon lead us over hill and dale.  We did not get into the river again as it was too strong of current.  We crossed tributary creeks that normally you could skip across that were now raging torrents.  Of course, as we coursed through the woods and muskegs as night fell and we donned our headlamps, Leon related bear attacks at dusk.  So, in our hip waders, we traversed unknown miles back downstream in the woods.  At one point, we came down near the river, which I only knew because I could hear it, and I saw a trail in my headlamp and directed Leon to it.   And suddenly – there was our tent.  I let out a whoop as I thought we were in for more miles of trudging.  Wow, was that a welcome site.  When we got to the tent, I was thoroughly soaked from head to toe, and began stripping down and hung my clothes on the nails and dowels above the stove.  Then I started a fire in the woodstove, and looked for the nearest snake-bite kit for relief.  Leon said he’d turn off his watch alarm  for the night as the rain and wind continued. We gradually awoke the next morning.  To my amazement, the river level dropped as quickly as it rose as the rain tapered off.

By mid-day, we were able to get back out on the river and try to seine the schooling coho salmon.  The water was still kind of high the next few days, and we were scratching for less than a 100 fish a day.  Our goal was 600 fish for scale samples, and I wasn’t sure we’d make it. After another day of little rain, the river continued to drop and at some point the combination of the lower water and our improved technique of beach seining we finally reached the 600 fish goal for scale collection.  Then we just seined and looked for fish marked by clipping their adipose fin when they were outmigrating smolt. We ate well the entire trip.  Neon Leon mostly did breakfast, and I did several dinners and Scott filled in a few days.    Wow.  I may not be 33 anymore, but I think the trips like this that I survive mean more as the years go by.   I managed about 4 gallons of high bush cranberries during the trip, and was busy juiciing some and freezing the rest today, along with other catch-up chores.  Hopefully, I’ll get to go to the Berners again.

– Mark Stopha Alaska
Wild Salmon Company
4455 N. Douglas Hwy
Juneau, AK 99801
www.GoodSalmon.com

Just got back from a 10 day field trip.  Went up the Berners River to
sample the adult coho salmon escapement there.  It’s a place few people
ever go, as we were at the headwaters, and accessible by helicopter,
only, although I guess someone could maybe walk up there.  I did the
same trip 16 years ago, and realized when we were walking up stream and
after 200 yards I was already 100 yards behind – I ain’t 33 anymore.
Neon Leon, the project leader, has been doing this trip for 30+ years.
He walks from camp downstream and upstream to count how many coho salmon
are there spawning.  On the second day, we walked to the headwaters of
the river after an evening of pouring rain and wind.  When we got near
the source, the river split, with one fork going towards one group of
the towering mountains on one side of the valley and the other fork
going towards tower mountains on the other side of the valley.

The weather had been pouring rain since the night before.  We ate lunch at the source of the spring creek, and then headed back downstream.  When we got to the river fork, the river had risen greatly.  It looked like we might not be able to cross the river to get back to the side of the river our tent was on.  The other two said we’d do a “swift water” technique where the largest person (me!) would cross, with the other two behind me in a sort of a tripod.  I would block the water for them, and they would support me by hand in getting across the river.  It was precarious, but we 3 made it across the river at about 345 pm.  Night comes pretty early in late Oct here.

We managed to cross to our side of the river.  From there, Leon lead us over hill and dale.  We did not get into the river again as it was too strong of current.  We crossed tributary creeks that normally you could skip across that were now raging torrents.  Of course, as we coursed through the woods and muskegs as night fell and we donned our headlamps, Leon related bear attacks at dusk.  So, in our hip waders, we traversed unknown miles back downstream in the woods.  At one point, we came down near the river, which I only knew because I could hear it, and I saw a trail in my headlamp and directed Leon to it.   And suddenly – there was our tent.  I let out a whoop as I thought we were in for more miles of trudging.  Wow, was that a welcome site.  When we got to the tent, I was thoroughly soaked from head to toe, and began stripping down and hung my clothes on the nails and dowels above the stove.  Then I started a fire in the woodstove, and
looked for the nearest snake-bite kit for relief.  Leon said he’d turn off his watch alarm  for the night as the rain and wind continued.

We gradually awoke the next morning.  To my amazement, the river level dropped as quickly as it rose as the rain tapered off. By mid-day, we were able to get back out on the river and try to seine the schooling coho salmon.  The water was still kind of high the next few days, and we were scratching for less than a 100 fish a day.  Our goal was 600 fish for scale samples, and I wasn’t sure we’d make it.

After another day of little rain, the river continued to drop and at some point the combination of the lower water and our improved technique of beach seining we finally reached the 600 fish goal for scale collection.  Then we just seined and looked for fish marked by clipping their adipose fin when they were outmigrating smolt.

We ate well the entire trip.  Neon Leon mostly did breakfast, and I did several dinners and Scott filled in a few days.    Wow.  I may not be 33 anymore, but I think the trips like this that I survive mean more as the years go by.

I managed about 4 gallons of high bush cranberries during the trip, and was busy juiciing some and freezing the rest today, along with other catch-up chores.  Hopefully, I’ll get to go to the Berners again.

. – Mark Stopha Alaska Wild Salmon Company 4455 N. Douglas Hwy Juneau, AK  99801 www.GoodSalmon.com 

Went elk hunting with Sara’s sister, her husband, and our niece’s boyfriend on Afognak.  We flew into Kodiak the 23rd for what has become a routine trip.  We have friends there who supply us with things like tarps and camp stoves, then we make a run to the store for groceries and propane, etc. 

There had been a spate of high winds in Kodiak, and the air taxi was backed up.  We weren’t sure if we’d get in on the 24th as planned, and our flight kept getting moved later and later in the day.  We finally did get in late in the afternoon with enough time to get the tents set up.  Opening day was the next day on the 25th.

My sister in law and brother in law had drawn the  permits for any elk, so I hunted with my sister in law and the boyfriend with the brother in law.  The first day was a nice day with no rain and in the 50’s.  We climbed a now familiar trail up to a beaver pond, and split up there to start asending the numerous ridge fingers to call for elk.    In mid-afternoon we jumped a very large blacktail buck deer.  It rose from it’s bed and was about 20 yards away.  In the dark of the spruce forest we could not tell how many points the rack had – only that it was a big, barrel-chested buck.  I wanted to take it, but we decided to wait as it was the first day of elk season and we might be missing out on an elk if I harvested the buck.  It’s the biggest deer I’ve ever passed up on for sure.  
Afognak is a special island.  Where we go, there are solid Sikta spruce stands with an understory of 1 to 2 foot tall devils club and ferns.  The elk and deer make about 2 foot wide paths that look manmade in many places they are so well-kept.  The walking is easy and climbs are mostly gradual – seldom are they near vertical for more than about 50 yards.  In between the spruce stands are open areas that are usually comprise of 3 sort of monoculture stands – grass, alder and salmon berry.  Although they appear nasty, once you find the trail through them it’s a matter of keeping the brush out of your eyes and your feet on the trail.

About 20 minutes after we passed on the buck, we heard a shot.  When we radioed the other group, they said they were looking for the elk they shot at, and had a second one there too.  Turns out they called in a bull within 100 yards in the tall grass, took a shot which they thought was a hit, then blew the cow call right after the shot.  What they thought was a 2nd bull coming they didn’t shoot as they thought the first one was down.  Turns out the 2nd bull was the first bull that had not been hit coming back.  The result was no elk.

The next day was pouring rain, but the only day of rain, as it turned out.  We took a long jaunt towards saltwater from the lake we were camped.  We called in a doe deer and saw a cross fox.  When we got back to camp, we saw a bear swiming in the lake.  Although we saw a few bears in and around the lake, and sign of them on either side of our camp, they never bothered us.  We saw one very large brown bear fishing on an island in the lake, and saw his print near camp.  My size 15 was just a tag longer that the width of his paw print just behind the claws.

We hunted another area the next day up the lake.   We were in the spruce trees on a ridge, and came to the edge of the trees and blew the elk bugle.  We heard crashing on a small finger of a hill that ended about 30 yards across the grassy bottom from us, and thought it was an elk coming for sure.  Then I saw what looked like a big buck deer looking at us.  I only have a 4 power scope on my 30.06, and when I looked at the deer through the scope his head was under a pine branch.  Everythign about the deer said it was a buck but I could not make out any antlers.   My partner had a bigger power scope and was sure it was a buck.  Then she dug out her binoculars and brought them to me, as I was sitting about 15 yards from her.  I looked and saw antler through the tree branch over the deer.  It was bucks only season until Oct 1, so I had to be sure.  I had a good sitting position with my elbow resting on my thigh.  I put the cross hairs behind the
buck’s shoulder, squeezed off the shot, saw the buck cartwheel down from the little hill and into the brush, and thought that was that.  My partner asked if I’d hit the deer and I said I thought so.  She said she thought she saw it going through the brush parallell to me, but I had not seen any such movement.

The area she thought the deer went meant the deer would have had to cross a small creek.  I walked to the spot the deer had been standing, and could find no hair or blood.  It looked like a clean miss, but I could not believe the deer would cartwheel like that if it wasn’t hit.  I followed where my partner thought the deer had gone.  When I exited the alders, I was in the grass and the trail went downhill from there.  I didn’t see any sign or tracks that the deer had gone there.  My partner went to where the deer had been standing, and followed what she thought was the trajectory of it’s fall and found a small piece of hair – which gave me a little encouragement.  When she got to the creek, instead of crossing it, she turned and followed it a very short distance and the big buck jumped out of the brush and headed up the side of the little hill, obvously crippled.  She shot and then that was really that.

Turns out the bullet went right where I was aiming.  The problem was I was shooting downhill, and the bullet went right through the clavicle and out the armpit without ever entering the body trunk.  So I had cleanly broken the leg, and so the deer went down, but the brush was so high he was 20 yards or less away all the time we were looking until we finally stumbled into him.  The deer’s rack was not overly impressive – 3 points and an eyeguard on each side – but it was one of the largest bodied black tail deer I’d ever seen.  It was actually fat around the middle, and had a tremendous layer of fat on the muscle.  Afognak was treating him well.

We were miles from camp, so we butchered the deer where it lay.  As I cut away the cape and was cutting thumb holes as I went along for a better grip, I remembered my friend Pat had shown me how to cut the thumbholes on one of my first deer hunts when I worked in Kodiak now over 20 years ago.  Time flies.  We loaded the meat into a meat sack, tied it to my pack, and off we went.  I was going to leave the head, but my partner insisted she carry it down with the antlers so we could cut them off at camp.  We were back to camp in less than 2 hours, and got the meat hung in a tree out of reach of the bears.

We were supposed to leave the next day, but the winds came up and it was too windy to fly.  I took my rifle and hunted the hills behind camp to see if I could get another deer.  I did call in a doe, but doe season was not open for 2 more days, so I had to pass.  Another beautiful clear day.  Later in the day the couple went to the head of the lake to see what they could see.  And what they saw was an elk.  On the other side of the lake.  And too late in the day to try to ford the inlet stream to get to it.  We all went down there the next morning to see if it was still around, but it was nowhere to be seen.  So, everyone saw an elk on the trip except me.  

The wind continued that day and the planes weren’t flying, so I went with my partner to the outlet of the lake to climb some of the hills there to look for an elk or a deer.  We saw coho salmon spawning in the outlet stream, and the grass flats along the creek were a brown bear highway of trails.  We didn’t call in any deer or elk, but found some neat country to hunt our next trip in.

The pilot flew in later that evening, but only to tell us he wanted to come the next day because the winds were still marginal.  We sent the boyfriend in so he could get back to work in Anchorage.  The pilot came in for us the next morning as the winds had died to nothing, and we made it, reluctantly it seemed, back to Kodiak.  I could have stayed another week just deer hunting.

–
Mark Stopha
Alaska Wild Salmon Company
4455 N. Douglas Hwy
Juneau, AK  99801
www.GoodSalmon.com