No, adventure doesn’t cut it. Experience may be better. Remote experience – that works. Over 5000 miles north and west from home…
It didn’t take much prodding. “Bob you want to hunt reindeer in the Aleutian Islands?” He began his answer by laughing out loud, followed by, “I’m in!”
I’ve had a longstanding desire, as do most hunters, to hunt in Alaska. Eleven years ago, I even went as far as purchasing a Model 700 .300 ultra mag AWR for a Colorado elk hunt, figuring if I already had the appropriate firearm, it would be easier to justify the cost of time away from my veterinary practice. It would still be in the back corner of the gun safe if I hadn’t received a phone call in late August from Dan Goodenow at Jim Shockey’s office. Dan explained that the hunters who were to be filmed in Atka for the television show had to cancel their trip. Would I be interested in filling in their spots?
Fast forward to mid October where Bob and I meet for the connecting flight to Anchorage in Chicago’s O’Hare airport. We’ve got huge smiles on our faces, but we’re not fooling each other. Neither one of us has flown on a small charter, let alone to a small remote island with unpredictable weather just south of the Bering Sea. Our mutual angst passes unmentioned.
Our flight to Anchorage feels like it passes quickly. We grab our gear at the baggage claim and head to our hotel and check in. We’ve got a day and a half to check out the local scene before our flight to the Aleutian Islands, so we grab a cab and head to downtown Anchorage.
It’s at this point on every trip that I try to stop everything for a minute or two and revel in what is to come over the ensuing days. Excitement and anticipation levels are rising; I’m in a place new to me, with my anonymity intact and I’m about to embark on a world class hunt. I gaze out at the snow-covered mountains that nearly encircle me, feeling the sun’s warmth offsetting the brisk air as I inhale deeply. I feel a small adrenaline rush and briefly close my eyes as I savor the moment.
When I open my eyes, of course, Bob is nowhere in sight. Typical. RMH&FC members have often discussed solutions to his wandering habit, the most recent suggestion being dropping a GPS dog tracking collar in his coat pocket. I brought the GPS with me for the trip; the collar wouldn’t have taken up that much more space in my pack…
Another RMH&FC characteristic is the enjoyment of good chow. After finding Bob on the sidewalk deep in conversation with a local native Alaskan, we step away and continue our search for where we’ll have tonight’s meal. We continue to wander the streets and find ourselves at the bar of Sullivan’s Steakhouse. After a drink, we’re walking the streets again. Eventually, we settle on the Glacier Brewhouse for dinner. We find some post-prandial coffee around the block and grab a cab back to the hotel. With the early flights and the four hour time change, we’ve been up for more than twenty four hours…
We’re awake at first light on Wednesday morning, with a full day to kill in Anchorage. Bob peruses through a tourist publication he found in the hotel lobby. There are plenty of interesting possibilities, but most require some decent travel time. Unfortunately, we settle on the Anchorage Zoo as it’s close and convenient. We should have just slept in a few extra hours.
Dan and the other hunters will be arriving that afternoon, so with time to kill, Bob and I head downtown again, this time in pursuit of a bipod for his rifle. After checking out my Remington with its bipod, the Mullet determines that he wants to put one on his rifle – a decision that he will later rue. We find one at a real nice, locally-owned outdoors store called Mountain View Sports. I’m walking around checking out the store’s inventory when I stumble across someone sitting in an aisle in a shooting position with a bipod and an imaginary rifle – guess who?
We grab a cab back to the hotel where we find Dan with camera in hand, shooting some local footage for the TV show. We meet up again in the hotel lobby a few hours later and the three of us grab a ride downtown one last time as we head out to dinner at Simon & Seaforts and meet up with the other four reindeer hunters who will travel to Umnak Island for their hunt. Our table gives us a terrific view of Mount Susitna, locally known as The Sleeping Lady. We chat about our families, careers and travels and enjoy a good meal. Dan graciously picks up the tab and we say goodnight to the rest of the hunting party. We’ll meet up again early the next morning at the private charter hanger. Dan, Bob and I grab yet another cab and head back to the hotel and call it a night.
Our gear, as well as the bags and packs of the other hunters, sits on palettes in the charter hanger where a forklift moves and places it on a scale. We’ll be flying on a Beechcraft 1900 from Anchorage to Dutch Harbor, where we’ll refuel before heading to Umnak Island to exchange the other four hunters for last week’s Umnak hunters, as well as their reindeer horns and capes. From there we’ll head to Atka. Bob, Dan and I will deplane in a trade for the previous week’s Atka hunters along with their gear and horns.
“Snug” doesn’t begin to describe the fuselage of the plane. Bob and I are the last to board, and of course, the two open seats are in the back of the plane. I have to turn my body sideways, while bending at my knees and hips, holding my pack out in front of me to squeeze down the aisle to the last seat on the left side of the aircraft. As I choke my ass into the seat, the lyrics from an old Police song cross my mind – “Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes. Contestants in a suicidal race.” Surprisingly though, I don’t have any detectable anxiety, which makes me begin to wonder what the hell has happened to my common sense. I turn to see how Bob is doing and it’s a totally different ballgame in the last seat on the right. He’s got a white-knuckled death grip on the headrest of the seat in front of him; his eyes are closed while perspiration starts to bead on his head. As the engine starts to whine, I can hear him exhaling loudly. I gaze to the front of the plane and I see Dan sitting in the one of the first few seats with noise-canceling headphones on. This is obviously not his first rodeo.
I wake up as the plane descends into Dutch Harbor…
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