The Hunter's Alaska

by Roy F. Chandler

  Avoid the many-pocketed models. What the hunter needs is one big old bag to drop things in. It will be less convenient to locate items, but you will always know which pocket they are in.

  You must do this once in a while

  Camping essentials

  28 - The Bombardier Tractor

  Behold, the finest Alaskan use, cross-country vehicle this author has ever seen. The three-person cab is homemade (from a WWII era 2-1/2 ton truck cab), but the vehicle itself was built in Canada by the company of the same name. I have ridden this machine to the top of the Granite Mountains. We have roared across the tundra in it. It moves across treacherous muskeg, and we even floated across a small lake on it. Rugged, dependable, and simple to repair, this vehicle is now fifty-three years old and is still as good as ever. In all that service, it has never thrown a track. The tractor is powered by a straight, six-cylinder Chrysler engine. The machine can side-hill at an astonishing angle. The tracks apply less than a pound ground pressure, but the metal grousers dig in powerfully.

  Art Rausch introduced this vehicle to Alaskan hunting in 1952. It has been the envy of every hunter or guide who has ridden in it or seen it perform. Occasionally, in this mechanized world, something clicks and works just right. This tractor is one of those rare examples.

  The US Army tried vehicles like this with one more bogey wheel per side. They were acceptably agile for the military but were too unmaneuverable in tight quarters for an Alaskan hunter's requirements. Our very short model can spin in its own length and wriggle through Alaskan forests as neatly as could a Jeep in the lower forty-eight states.

  This 1980s photo of the bombardier tractor shows how it looked after more than thirty years of being hammered on too many hunts to count. During the last two years, Jerry Rausch has rebuilt everything, and the old machine is ready to go. The most significant modification was changing the electrical system to 12-volt The original 6-volt worked fine, but 6-volt batteries are getting hard to find.

  Jerry and I speak of loading the tractor on his ancient truck (his father's 1952 Ford that we used so very long ago) and visiting again all of the sites we hunted during decades past. We would not hunt, the plan claims. Well, maybe just a little for the pot. We would simply roam and remember. It is a marvelous scheme for two ancient duffers like us. I wonder if we will do it? That trip should require about two months in the wild country. Next summer sounds perfect to me.

  Of course, the military decided to armor plate their tractors, which then required a more powerful engine, and it was quickly discovered that a stronger suspension and drive-train were then needed to carry the armor. Performance fell like a dropped stone, and maintenance skyrocketed.

  With astonishment, we watched the Arctic Test Board at Fort Greely destroy the usefulness of their tractors. The experts replaced the steel grousers with rubber pads—so that roads would not be torn up. Interesting idea, but the tractors lacked the great weight of a tank. A Bombardier will even float, and without the grousers digging in, the tracks slid ineffectually in the bush. The tractors became useless even as snowplows. I remember one with a ring-mounted fifty-caliber machine gun mounted on it. In the end, the military rejected the concept with a note that the tractor was not made in the United States and … ? By then, I was no longer surprised.

  The secret to the Bombardier's ability NOT to throw tracks, lay in the factory's unique design. Most track-laying vehicles have tracks with a raised, knife-like ridge included in each track plate. Those ridge rides within a slot in the steel bogie wheels. (See the adjoining sketches.)

  Unfortunately sticks and other trash can become jammed in the works hard enough to wedge a track plate out of line, and the track just peels from the rest of the bogies as the tractor moves ahead.

  If you build heavily enough, like a tank, the system overpowers obstructions, but on lighter vehicles (the weasels of WWII come to mind) tracks are thrown with disgusting regularity.

  Bombardier's answer lay in reversing the system. Bombardier provided bogies that were basically ordinary, rubber-tired, automobile wheels. The tracks were not steel but the rubberized belting that is similar to tire material and is used on machinery (including final drive belts on modern motorcycles). That stuff is tougher than—than anything. In all the years, we have never even torn the edge of a belt The grousers were made in two parts that were bolted together with ordinary hardware bolts.

  The outer piece of the grouser gripped the earth. The inside grousers sort of wrapped around the bogie's tire and held the tracks/belts in place. You could poke a log in there and, unlike a steel track, the system just twisted and wriggled and went right on. Grousers were replaceable using only a pair of wrenches.

  But, suppose a tire was punctured? Patch it. A bogie wheel could be removed as if it were on an automobile. On a trip into Ernestine Creek we had our only such incident and, curse it, our never-tested hand pump failed. So, we patched the leak in the tire's tube, filled the flat with water, and continued.

  A number of extra strips of belting have been in our tractor since it was built. Each is an emergency patch about two feet long. The idea was that if a belt ever tore, all you had to do was overlap a patch between two grousers and be on your way.

  How could you take tension off the belt tracks so that you would have slack to work with? Simple, you don't even have to jack anything up. That smaller front bogie seen in the photo is also a tensioner. Turn a large bolt and the tension eases. Turn the other way and it tightens. One man can do it all with ease.

  I fear that I may approach saturation with all of this how-to material, but that tractor fascinates me. Maybe just a little more?

  Note the hand-operated winch out front. Art chose a crank rather than electricity because a need could appear when a battery was down. In theory, the cable and winch could hoist the tractor straight up. We did not attempt to prove that.

  In use, three individuals ride side by side inside the cab. The center man is the operator. A hunter can stand comfortably on the rear, beside the engine, with the bar at the back of the cab to hold onto. Jerry and I always chose that spot (one to a side).

  A tap on the tin roof tells the driver we see game. In the oldest days, Art would slap on the brakes, and the tractor would rock on its suspension. We would settle down, and Art would use his binoculars through the windshield while Jerry and I leaned across the roof with our elbows braced on the top, binoculars to our eyes.

  Man, that was nice. I want to go back!

  The Bombardier tractor is still ready to go—as it looked in 2005. Notice the outer-grousers on the tracks in this close-up photo.

  The author made this Yukon packboard many hard years ago, and it is still in service each fall and spring.

  29 - Fishing for Hunters

  By Arthur B. Troup

  Among the few personal failings that I will admit to is the fact that, in spite of trying, I have never been able to infect Roy Chandler with a fishing fever. He has watched while I hooked and landed big pike—really big pike. Pike that looked as though they could and would strike at trolled water skiers. I have shown him beautiful lake trout, but his only reactions were to pull his chair closer to the table and get a better grip on his spoon.

  A glimmer of hope shines in the distance, however, because Chandler has admitted that perhaps there are a few hunters who might want to, as Roy says, " … dunk an innocent worm on the end of some damned long pole … "

  Well, so be it. I have been selected to submit a short chapter on the contemplative hunter's optional pursuit. I might add, though, that Chandler's resistance continues to this day.

  Fishing in Alaska is found in two extremes: very good and nonexistent. Both extremes are affected by the same conditions: time and location. Allow me to explain.

  The Russian River used to be an excellent stream for rainbows. Now it is not a good stream for rainbows, and one would be disappointed in fishing there. However, during the midsummer salmon runs, the Russian is the scene of frantic, elbow-to
-elbow tackle-busting, fishing joy. The last time I fished there it was restricted to flies only, and the salmon were taking large, light green streamers fished deep behind several buckshot. They took on the last few curving feet of a downstream drift, and then the action was fast, splashy, and exciting. More often than not the salmon broke free.

  Russian River Salmon Madness

  It was not always like this. Once a fisherman could find himself alone even at a spot this choice. Now, half of California is in town—and the rest are en route.

  Just upstream from the mouth of the Russian on the Kenai River is a sharp curve. The water is deep, heavy, and butts against a bluff as it curves sharply downstream. Salmon rest on the inside of this curve, and I saw their backs and dorsal fins late one night as I headed for the Russian. I stayed there and cast to them. At this point the river is wide and the current on my side was fearsome; it took some doing to reach them. I reached twelve. I kept none. The fishing, in a word, was superb! At most other times of the year, barren would be the word.

  Time then is a significant factor in Alaskan fishing, and one would do well to check in advance concerning the availability of fish, at that time of year, in the area in which one plans to hunt.

  If time is an important consideration in Alaskan fishing, location is equally important. Every stream is NOT teeming with grayling. Some streams, indeed the entire drainage of a large area, might be too choked with silt and rock dust from glaciers to support fish life. Jarvis Creek for instance, is a beautiful stream in a picturebook setting, but I do not recall ever seeing anything in it.

  Grayling eluded me in that area until Al Remington at Big Delta said, "You want grayling? Come 'ere." We walked to a stream not a hundred yards behind his place, and Al pointed to the tail of a long riffle and suggested that I cast there and let the fly float through the pool below. I did just that and caught two nice grayling. I released them.

  The point, of course, is obvious. If one is going to hunt Alaska and would like to fish for diversion or the pot, ask the guide or outfitter in advance; or, if one is not required to have a guide, he should check in advance with persons knowledgeable about the proposed area. Are there fish where I will be and will the fish be there when I am?

  If the answer to both questions is yes, then one can consider what fish will be encountered, and he can plan accordingly. Here, very briefly, are some points to help.

  Pike in Alaska can be found, generally speaking, in the southeastern quarter of the state. They are much like pike anywhere and can be caught on plugs, spoons, spinners, and the like. I enjoy catching pike on large wet flies and streamers like big Marabous and Mickey Finns.

  Dolly Vardens seem not well thought of in the North. I remain surprised to this day that many people disregard the Dolly, almost as if it were a trash fish. This feeling is predicated, I am told, on the belief that the Dolly is a savage predator on other, presumably more desirable, fish. No matter to me; I like the Dolly because he is not finicky and fights reasonably well.

  I once caught an eight-inch Dolly on a four-inch spoon. That seems to bear out the reputation that he is an aggressive predator.

  I cannot say how they are in the pan. Plan on small spoons, spinners, and streamers for Dolly Vardens.

  The Arctic Char is very nearly everywhere and almost always available. They strike almost anything, put up a respectable fight, are very photogenic, and, like packrats, love bright shiny things. Try a #3 Hildebrandt spoon (gold or silver) with your fly rod or with some shot pinched on your spinning outfit.

  A nice Arctic Char

  Grayling require perfect water that is unbelievably cold. Occasionally, they are found in impoundment type bodies of water, but normally they will be in gin clear, numbing cold water that is moving over stones and gravel.

  The grayling has been to school. He is smart, fast, spooky, alert, and usually a dainty feeder. Scare him and he will vanish. If you have decided to pack along just your fly rod and use it exclusively try a long nine-foot leader with the finest tippet you can handle and drift # 16s or smaller in sparse gnat or mosquito patterns by suspected locations or actually feeding fish.

  Drifting these flies dry you will, of course, see the rise, but, if your drift is wet, look for the characteristic line jump or hesitation as when nymphing.

  Spinning with flies for grayling is tough. The plastic bubble required to cast the fly seems to make the fish shy, but if you cast well upstream and are careful to keep the bubble from drifting contrary to the current, you should have some strikes.

  I caught, by accident, the largest grayling that I have ever seen. In the late summer of '93 I was fishing for rainbows in a section of the Alagnak River called "The Braids." My lure was an opalescent, salmon-colored costume jewelry bead about the size of a large pea. The bead was threaded onto the tippet and allowed to slide down onto the eye of a bare #6 hook with the barb mashed down. The grayling was in a deep run and took the bead bumping along the bottom on the first cast. Go figure.

  Troy Creasy, a guide from Pulaski, New York and King Salmon, Alaska, taught me the bead trick. That grayling was twenty-two inches long and is still swimming—I hope, in the Alagnak.

  The moral of the story is clear: many self-respecting Alaskan game fish will take a salmon egg!

  A salmon steals my heart. I wish every hunter/fisherman could hook one at least once in his or her lifetime. The salmon learned all that the snook, bonefish, and tarpon learned and then added a grace that he alone possesses. Without reservation, I would suggest to you that if your hunting takes you within the time and location limits of salmon fishing, do it! If you prefer spinning, and the regulations allow any lures, medium spoons produce well; or, if the area is flies only, you can toss them reasonably well using split shot pinched on about two or three feet above the fly. If you prefer a fly rod, you will no doubt have favorite patterns, but I would suggest large, three or four inch egg suckers in pale reds, whites, and combinations of those colors. Fish deep. Use split shot. Silvers take spoons. Kings take eggs. A jack salmon is an immature salmon that looks a little like a brown trout.

  Here is Art with a nice King Salmon, perhaps forty-five pounds in weight Caught with 10-weight rod and line, #30 leader, #20 tippet, double-egg sperm fly. Took an hour and ten minutes. (Released)

  One who engages a guide or outfitter for a hunt would not endear himself as the Great Hunter if he arrived with thirty pounds of fishing gear. Your equipment must be minimal. One of the popular, sectioned plastic boxes about 5x7 inches should be enough for lures, swivels, snaps, split shot, spinners, etc. Try to match the contents of the box to the anticipated fish. Heavy split shot and large flies and spoons for salmon; tiny gnat and mosquito patterns and several plastic bubbles for grayling; pack plugs for pike and some extra snaps and swivels and some red and white spoons; Dolly Varden will require spinners, streamer flies, and small spoons. If several types of fish are anticipated, then it follows that the lures should be varied. A 5 x 7 box holds an unbelievable amount of gear.

  Fly rod or spinning rod? That, of course, is up to individual preference. Even though I dearly love the fly rod, a quality, short sectioned, backpacking type spinning rod is the best "all around" choice. It is tough, and it is easy to pack, light, and not at all unpleasant to use. I use a popular, quality, open-face reel and have two spools of pre-wound line, one 2-pound and 4-pound. A net is nice if it is a collapsible or folding type and can be easily stowed.

  I love to catch big pike, big bass, and big salmon, so my fly rod is a 10 weight Browning Diana with a big Pflueger Salmon reel and a 10 weight DTWF salt water floating line. I can cast a sleeping bag with it, but it can still take about an hour to land a big King.

  In the final analysis the success of your hunting trip will be measured by the pleasure you receive from it. When the capes are skinned out and the rifles put away, wetting a line can revive tired bones and add to that pleasure. Good fishing …'er … good hunting.

  Comments by the author of this tome.r />
  All that Arthur Troup says is accurate, including the part about my unwillingness to fish. I recognize that there must be something in it; enough books and poems about fishing have been written to be convincing. Convincing to most, that is. I continue to find fishing less interesting than taking naps or reading bean can labels.

  In truth, I have had some wonderful trips with fishermen—including Troup, but my pleasure was not in holding a rod and staring hopefully at the water. Here is an example of some of the wonderful times we had in earlier days down on the Kenai.

  From our base at Delta Junction, it is a hard day's drive to the Kenai Peninsula. We got in and got set up. Art Rausch immediately went fishing. Maw and Mimi organized, and Jerry Rausch and I set up the tents got the firewood and … everything else. Some systems never change.

  For the next week, Art and Jerry caught huge salmon. They were giant fish, I thought. We weighed none, but Art said some were fifty pounders. Maw and Mimi filleted the fish. They had their smoker ready, and it went into action, and Jerry and I kept it working until we left. They also canned mountains of salmon. We even ate salmon. I thought it was Ok.

  My job became driving freezer chests filled with filets packed in dry ice into Anchorage and getting them onto airplanes for the states. The families outside wanted all they could get—for some reason. I got more dry ice and went back to the Kenai.

  Even back then I was a writer, and I spent loose time filling pages and exploring around the rivers. Few other people appeared, and except for one airman stationed nearby, no one stayed.