The Hunter's Alaska

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The Hunter's Alaska Page 21

by Roy F. Chandler


  It is interesting to note that more bull moose are brought down in the winter by wolves than are cow moose. The bulls enter the arctic cold drawn and weakened from the rutting season. Some appear almost skeletal. Far from being lords of the wilderness protecting their mates, the bulls' struggle is primarily to eat enough to survive. Exhausted and their antlers discarded, they are easier prey for wolves than are the vigorous cows.

  As hunters, we should know nature as it really is and overcome any belief that because a wolf is a predator he is automatically desirable or undesirable. Bambi-ism slips into thinking if we dwell on defenseless calves being pulled down by ravening wolf packs. Man likewise slaughters helpless calves in the name of succulent veal. That is just the way life is.

  On the opposite tack, we must not become maudlin about wolves. They are not cute dogs. A wolf is a super-efficient and merciless killer. A band of wolves will take what it can get, whether it is a crippled caribou, a chained up dog, or a flock of sheep.

  As part of nature's balance, the wolf has his place, and we should hunt him with due consideration. These days, that consideration is overblown and, unfortunately, we do not take very many wolves. We do not take enough.

  Weigh these facts. It is accepted that a single wolf could consume twelve moose a year—or thirty-six caribou. Now, if we have, say, 3000 wolves spread across our lands, that could be an entire herd of moose or an intolerable total of 188,000 caribou eaten—every year. Let's hope our wolves find a lot of marmots and field mice.

  If you favor the wolves, you will have fewer moose, caribou, and Dall sheep.

  Wolves produce litters. Moose produce twin calves and caribou usually have a single calf.

  It is believed that the wolf population can remain stable with a 40% annual harvest by hunters and trappers.

  If you want more moose and caribou, shoot a lot of wolves.

  This is Rick Hyce, Master Guide Ray Atkin's assistant. His picture graces the back cover of the print version of this book.

  The wolves draped across Rick's shoulders were roaming wild only an hour or so before this photograph was taken. Shot as trophies, Rick wears the wolves only to add flavor to the picture—or so we are told. Looks kind of Alaskan to this author.

  26 - Binoculars

  Do not leave home without them. Binoculars are as essential to successful Alaskan hunting as is a rifle. I have never known a decent hunter to go afield without his binocs. A sportsman intending to hunt Alaska should spend as much thought on his binoculars as he does his rifle/cartridge combination. Some, more wise, spend as much money for their binocs as they do for their rifle.

  If you wish to examine pages of photographs of binoculars, gather brochures. This short chapter explains what and how more than it entertains.

  There is a general consensus among hunters and outdoor writers that 7 x 35mm binoculars are the best power and size compromise. A hunter's binoculars must be light and compact enough not be annoying. Good 7 x 35mm glasses seem just about right.

  A hunter does not carry his binoculars in a case dangling from his shoulder—the way inexperienced lieutenants are prone to do. The hunter shortens his binocular strap and hangs the glasses around his neck. The strap should be just long enough to allow the glasses to go over his head and be raised to his eyes. When not in use, the glasses are tucked into the front of the hunter's shirt or jacket. We all get so used to having them there that they go unnoticed until needed.

  Of course, carrying binoculars is secondary to their use. If your glasses are too low in magnification, you cannot distinguish as well as you should. If they are too high, you again cannot see, this time because of the wobble. High power glasses need more than simple arm support to steady them or the images will be too shaky to use.

  It might be instructive to note that when looking through a telescopic sight, a spotting scope, or binoculars, the human eye can retain its sharpest visual acuity for only a short period. Lengthy staring at an object will always degrade your eyes' ability to examine details. The longer you stare, the less detail you will see. Look away often, roll your eyes, lean back and relax.

  Seven power seems about right The other number in, for example, our 7 x 35mm binoculars explains the size of the big end, the objective end, of the binoculars. The larger the objective lens number, the bigger the lens area and diameter. The larger the objective lens, the more light a lens can transfer toward the eye. Hunters like to speak of that ability as light gathering, but no binocular lens gathers light. It can only transfer light

  Because of their greater light transmitting ability, 7 x 50mm binocs are superior to 7 x 35mm at dusk and dawn. But, the 7 x 50mm is inconveniently large and heavy because of those big objective ends. 35mm is as large as a hunter should select.

  Some hunters have settled on 8 x 30mm binoculars as their choice. Those hunters like the extra power of magnification. They accept the slightly reduced light "gathering" ability of the 30mm lens, and 8 x 30s are a bit more handy to use than the bulkier 35mm glasses. Despite an extra power of magnification, an 8 x 30mm can be made small due to those little objective lenses. 8 x 30mm is also a good choice. They are fine up in the sheep and goat meadows where you are little bothered by shadows. They are not as effective as 7 x 35mm when the light is poor.

  Because their lenses are genuinely superior, these tiny 8X x 20mm binoculars are as useful as any ordinary 8X x 30mm glasses I have seen. Lens quality counts! These little binoculars are so compact that a hunter might forget that he has them.

  Beyond weight and compactness, and power and light transferral, there are other binocular aspects to be considered.

  Weather resistance is a big one. Binoculars that will cloud if they get wet are of no use to a hunter. Durability is of utmost importance. Glasses that will not stand rough treatment should never be considered. Binoculars without coated lenses to sharpen images are less effective and should never be purchased.

  A hunter's binoculars should always be of center focus with finer adjustment for the right eye. There are binoculars on the market that have individual eye focus. They only compound problems of getting on and getting swiftly focused. Center focus is best.

  In choosing binoculars, the main effort should be to get the best pair you can possibly afford. Unfortunately, most hunters have never used a top quality pair of glasses. The improvement of clarity and ease of seeing between fair binocs and top quality is barely believable.

  When a dealer offers you a pair of glasses costing many hundreds of dollars and you know that you can buy a different pair that looks the same for less than half that amount, the decision can be tough. But, as a cover does not make a book, so appearance does not make a binocular. Buy the expensive ones. A hunter spends many hundreds of dollars on his gun and more hundreds on his gear. Why skimp on the item that may let him use all of those other things?

  It should be emphasized that a rifle-mounted telescopic sight is never a substitute for binoculars. You cannot get by using only a scope. The field of view is not correct, and the scope sight will wear you out if you attempt the necessary hours of glassing.

  Nor will a spotting scope substitute for binoculars. A spotting scope of about twenty power is a useful instrument. When you find something you wish to look at very closely for an extended period, the spotting scope on a tripod will do the job for you. However, most of the time you will use your binoculars.

  For lengthy and detailed viewing, a spotting scope is the right instrument but it is not a substitute for super-good binoculars.

  When you are ready to buy, do not settle for the first pair of binoculars handed across the counter. You really must test your new glasses. Anyone who wears eyeglasses has noted that no two pairs are alike. The same prescription from the same optician feels different with each pair of spectacles you buy. The same is true of binoculars. I have had top quality glasses that pulled until I felt my eyeballs were well down the tubes.

  Take the binoculars in which you are interested outside the store (lea
ve the shopkeeper your wallet or something), and look through them for a half an hour or so. You will spend long, long hours behind those glasses, and they should be right.

  When you test your binoculars, the technique is to first see your target—then raise your glasses to your eyes without looking away. [You follow the same procedure with rifle scope sights, by the way.] When your glasses drop in front of your eyes, the object should be there, clear and within a perfect circle without a sense of struggling to see or adjust. Study the edges of your field of view for distortion. With good glasses, there will be none.

  Need I add that when lenses are involved it pays to buy name brands? Off-the-wall companies cannot offer you anything that a top company cannot better.

  Although I know the above points and many more, they have never stopped me from trying about everything that comes onto the market. Because I am an often-published writer and am known as a hunter and a gun buff, dealers, shopkeepers, and some manufacturers are quite willing that I try their wares. That is satisfying to me as you can well imagine. It means that I have had unusual opportunities to try equipment and weapons that I would never have considered buying. Binoculars are no exception.

  As a result, I have gone afield with some weird contraptions hanging around my neck. I have also experienced some genuinely superb glasses whose prices, if I had had to buy, would have brought tears to my eyes.

  I have worn any number of 7 x 35mm glasses in the grades that are sold through Sears or a dozen other firms. They are adequate, but not great. I include here the nautical binoculars in the same price ranges that are peddled to the yachting fraternity. They are nothing special either. The nauticals were usually alleged to be waterproof. Often they were not. If the going got tough, many leaked. Sometimes, they fogged in cold and damp. They all drowned out if dipped in a stream.

  I dropped a pair of such binoculars in a stream while drinking. They fell out of my jacket and dangled in the current They fogged solid and were never any good again. I do not suggest that a hunter should test his glasses in water, but if it does occur, the glasses should be as good as ever after the dunking.

  I had a fine pair of pre-WWII Bausch and Lomb binoculars that skidded off a rock and fell a couple of hundred feet. I watched them ricocheting from rock to rock and almost did not bother to go get them. Upon recovery, the binocs were scarred and scratched all over and looked terrible, but they worked fine, and I used them off and on for a number of years.

  On one long hunt into the mountains at the head of the Wood River, Art Troup found a pair of glasses hanging near an old campsite. The first movement disintegrated the leather carrying strap. From their look, the binoculars must have been hanging there for years. They operated a little stiffly for a while, but the last I knew, Art still used them. Good binoculars can take a whale of a beating. Cheapies may not.

  Top-of-the-line binoculars are truly expensive. At this writing, the finest can cost one thousand dollars. Few hunters can dig that deeply into the old money sock, but if you can, you should. Fine binoculars should never wear out. They can be something to use and treasure through lifetimes.

  27 - Camping

  Camping requires a lot of pictures and fewer words. If you really hunt Alaska, you camp. The mountains are unlike the flats, and the soggy areas different than the tundra. The Kenai is never the Brooks Range. There are too many conditions to even attempt to describe, but photographs can.

  I appear pensive in this photograph taken along the Russian River on the Kenai Peninsula so long ago that no one else was around. Actually, I was irritated by the fire's slow response, and I did not see my partner grab the camera. Sometimes, a cheerful blaze seems almost impossible to generate—Art Troup must have laid this fire!

  The reality is that living in the Alaskan wilderness, with hunting and perhaps fishing about to take place, is one of the most relaxing yet invigorating and exciting conditions an outdoorsman can experience. (Well, maybe not the fishing.)

  Pensive? Nah, I was as happy as a clam in deep sand.

  Hunters from Outside should keep in mind that when we are discussing camping, we are referring to Alaskan conditions. Things may be different in many other states. Alaska is still "The Last Frontier," and we have few commercial hunting lodges, and not many residents have hunting camps the way they are set up in other locales.

  When you go hunting in Alaska you either hunt the few roads or you go out into the boonies and hunt from camps you or your guide establish. Alaskan hunting usually means tent camping or no tent camping. Rare is the cabin or even a lean-to.

  Some of the professional guides have established perfunctory camps pretty far out in their designated areas, and there are some old cabins scattered about, but few hunters can depend on having one for their use.

  A snug (well, sort of snug) hunting camp from the 1940s

  In the chapter on moose, I described our old camp on Jarvis Creek flats. We had many others in that area, but Jarvis was a special one.

  I had a sort of secret place that I really liked and visited on many hunts, but I have not been there in some years. If you look at the map of the Delta Junction area (20D) at the beginning of this book, you will see where Jarvis Creek is joined by McCumber Creek. At that stream junction are a number of ancient log cabins. An old hunter/guide used that camp long before my time, and I have forgotten his name, as those who go there now have probably forgotten mine. There are collapsing cabins and some corrals for horses. I was once told that the buildings dated back to when gold was panned and sluiced from Ober Creek and perhaps McCumber.

  I never saw color in either stream, but a lot of work went into the place. Now, it is tired and sagging. There are such shelters, if you know where to look for them.

  A guy called Butch used to have a fine cabin on a lake named Butch's Lake out near Jarvis Creek headwaters. A pair of drunks got careless and burned the cabin down about 1959 or so. Sad loss, it was almost a house.

  Mostly though, hunters in Alaska will camp, and that is the best. You can follow the game and not have to hike or ride pointless miles just to get a roof over your head.

  Our base camp for goats up on Ernestine Creek was another memorable spot. Mighty cliffs rise all around, the stream rushes at your feet, the game animals are often in view, there are no bugs to speak of, and the only signs of human presence are our own from years past. No distant motors intrude, and few jets leave contrails high above. The animals are as undisturbed as you could ever find them. That all makes for a happy camp.

  In the Alaska Range, fall hunting is noted for really fine days. I think August in Alaska may be the best weather I have encountered anywhere in the world. September gets a little sharper, but is still tolerable. From then on conditions become more rugged.

  I have been in the mountains a lot in the first half of October. It can be OK then, but the rest of the month is too cold for me to enjoy. I am not a big admirer of camping conditions in the late seasons.

  In my camps, a firearm goes everywhere. Including bathing in a stream.

  Despite normally fine weather, things can get rainy and soggy in the Alaskan Range. A wise hunter brings rain gear to his base camp. It is awful to be two days into the mountains and be completely drenched with no drying out place between you and distant civilization.

  Even when we go for sheep or goats we always establish a semi-permanent base camp at a sort of central point just off the high peaks. There we leave all of the gear that we do not immediately need.

  One year, Stan Thomas and I made a base camp when we were after goats. Then we climbed a too steep mountain and got stuck there. The only safe way down was a full day's hike around the end of the ridges and along the edge of a glacier (which wasn't really safe at all).

  We had to sleep out that night just above the glacier. Lordy, it was cold! Stan was a pretty young lad that year. He carried his weight alright, but being the boss I worried about him. Not intending to stay out all night, we did not have a sleeping bag. But, we had plastic
bags for putting our meat in, we had gloves, and we each had a military field jacket Stan pulled plastic bags on like a sleeping bag, and I sort of pushed him under a sloping rock. Then I donned my own bags, which made good windbreakers, and crammed myself against him.

  Stan was pretty warm, but I stayed so cold I could not stop shivering. I thought light would never come. We started again in 3 AM pre-dawn and hiked about nine hours the next day getting around that mountain. Base camp looked about the finest place I had ever seen. We pulled shoes off aching feet, washed some of the dirt away, crawled into those wonderfully warm sleeping bags, and flaked out.

  I think it was just past noon, but who cared.

  This photo is so old even George Nelson (on the right) could not date it. George was 86 and living in a tiny cabin—the one closest to the store at Cooper Landing—in 1973 when I spoke with him about the picture. This was a moose camp on the Kenai near Tustumena Lake circa 1926 or maybe it was much earlier(?).

  Sticking to the being cold subject for a moment, I think it is always unwise to go up into really steep mountains without a sleeping bag. At least one bag should be carried for each two people. When the going is cold, you can crowd together and be glad for any body heat that is transferred. Too often I have neglected this rule and have suffered for it.

  Once, while looking over some goats out of Haines, I was caught in a sort of whiteout so dense I was afraid to try working my way to lower and flatter ground.

  The book says, "Do not clamber around the crags in thick fog!" That is sound advice, and I decided to go by the book and wait it out. I picked a seat against a convenient boulder and tried to relax, but the cold mixed with the damp air off the ocean was so intense that I shivered myself to near exhaustion. My packboard contained only a blanket and a couple of rations along with a big Bausch and Lomb spotting scope.

 

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