Alaska Caribou Meat Hunt

The The day dawned with a clear blue sky. Sunshine glistened through tall spruce onto fresh snow below. It was 15 below. The family was at church, and I was going hunting for needed meat. I donned the several layers of clothing required in the Far North and headed out in search of caribou. Thanks to the recent snowfall, tracking would be easy. The animals had been moving with herds of caribou migrating through. It seemed like there were always wolf, coyote, and lynx tracks in the woods.

- Rose Kareem

My first sighting was a group of about fifty caribou coming up the mountain towards me. The front ones stopped, looking behind to others which had yet to start the climb. When caribou decide to move, they move fast, but I knew exactly where these were headed based on their position. If I could make it there before them, I had a good chance at a shot. The trick was to be swift without being seen. I decided to take a trail that was not a direct route to where I needed to be, hoping to make good time by staying on a clear path. The caribou wouldn’t see or hear me because I was a good distance away.

In a gait between a run and a jog, I passed through the woods until I landed on my knees with a thud. One of the many hidden, downed trees had reached out of the snow and grabbed my boot. It was a hard fall, and while brushing myself off, I noticed snow and tundra moss packed in the muzzle of the rifle. I had to dig it out. By the time I was done and on my feet again, I had lost nearly a minute.

That may not sound like much, but when racing caribou, every second counts. Ignoring aching knees, I proceeded.

I slowed when I veered off the path and through the woods headed for the clearing I knew the caribou were also headed towards.

I reached it a few seconds too late. The tail end of the herd was still on a steep slope, and I had a perfect shot at the last five or so. But I didn’t dare shoot. Any caribou I shot there would tumble down the mountain, and no way was I going to be able to drag a big caribou up that incline by myself.

The caribou spooked, and in the space between trees, I watched them dash across the clearing, too fast for me to even think about a shot. I did raise the rifle, just in case an opportunity presented itself, but lowered it as the last of the caribou vanished in the woods.