Everyone’s in a very bad mood.
Yesterday we tried to make light of the constant delay, but now it’s too serious to ignore. The season has started. We should be out looking for rams right now, up in the mountains with our guns on our backpacks. But we are still enjoying the hospitality of the air-taxi office. We barely speak to each other, and no one dares to make any jokes. We are all preoccupied with our own thoughts. The image of large, curling ram’s horns is starting to fade from our minds.
Anyone who goes hunting knows there is no guarantee of success. It won’t work without a little bit of luck, which is why so many hunters are superstitious. What is really disappointing is that now, no matter what happens, there is no chance of succeeding. None of us has even picked up a gun yet. ( I, for instance, don’t even know where my gun is, but Petra assures me that it is OK, unlike my current situation. ) There’s nothing to do but stare at the wal s.
Though sometimes we stare at the rain.
Surprisingly, this morning the weather seems to have improved. The rain is lighter, the wind has dropped and it has warmed up. This improvement has raised our hopes. But sadly, the news from
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Kavik Camp is not good. It has been snowing there and the runways are completely unusable. We have asked Pilot Bob a hundred times when we can make our next attempt, but he just shrugs and looks up at the sky.
The whole point of being here is the hunt for Dall sheep and caribou in Brooks Range.
Brooks Range is the most northern part of the Rocky Mountains and lies entirely within the Arctic circle. Its eastern peaks rise to over 8860 feet; Mt.Chamberlin is the highest point at 9019 feet , and the range stretches for over 680 miles. It was named in 1925, after Alfred Hulse Brooks, the leading Alaskan geologist of the United States Geological Survey, from 1903 until his death in 1924. It is the most remote area of the North American continent, and supposedly the best place to hunt Dall sheep.
If you want to hunt wild sheep in North America, there are basically two types. This might surprise my fellow hunters, but it is true. One is the Thinhorn (Ovis dalli), which has two sub-species, the Dall Sheep (Ovis dalli dalli), and Stone's Sheep (Ovis dalli stonei).
The other is the Bighorn Sheep (Ovis canadensis), which has three sub-species:the Rocky Mountain Bighorn sheep (Ovis canadensis canadensis) the California Bighorn Sheep (Ovis canadensis californiana) the Desert Bighorn Sheep (Ovis canadensis nelsoni).
If I'm ever able to leave Deadhorse, I want to spend the next few days hunting Dall sheep, the sub-species of the Thinhorn variety.
As with other types of animals, the habitats of the various species of sheep all overlap. Stone's sheep, the larger, can be found in several colors, unlike the Dall, which is smaller, and always white, thus making it easier to differentiate between them. The SCI, in order to clarify the difference between the two sub-species, has declared that any thinhorn may be considered a Dall sheep if it has a white coat, even if the tail happens to be black. If a thinhorn is any color other than white, apart from the tail, it must be a Stone's sheep. This rule agrees with American hunting traditions, as hunters had already made the differentiation before the SCI definition. At present, 67% of all wild Alaskan sheep are protected in the various national parks, while in other areas it is mainly the Dall sheep that is hunted.
The Dall sheep got its name in 1844 from an American zoologist, a certain William H. Dall, its height to its withers is around 3 ft and its weight ranges from 180-187 lbs. Naturally, the females are smaller.
Because of its white coat it is easily spotted on rocky ground, but is almost invisible in the snow. Its horns usually form a complete circle. Experts write that the horns are similar to those of other North American sheep, but as I have never seen a trophy, I cannot judge.
Hunting Dall sheep - just like any other mountain hunt - is difficult, though as a mountaineer friend of mine says, there's no such thing as a difficult mountain, only a badly prepared mountaineer. It is all a question of training, and that is the truth. I always take a lot of excercise: I work out, I cycle, I run about, I shout and I shoot. But over the last three months my training regime has been brutal. I can't
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afford the risk of spoiling my chances out hunting, or making the whole experience less enjoyable, through a lack of preparation. A hunter who gets red-faced, puffing and panting, with a racing pulse, will not only reduce his own enjoyment, but could also make life difficult for his guide. I'm especially worried that this period of enforced idleness will not be very beneficial to my general level of fitness.
The hotel has a gym, but I haven't dared to go and work out because Bob might give the order to leave at any minute.
Despite all this, even someone who does not work out regularly ought not to be discouraged from hunting Dall sheep. Supposedly, among all the wild sheep hunts of North America, this one is considered the easiest. What difficulties there are, will be seen over the next few days.
I wish we could leave right now!
I think it was Széchenyi who first used the word karibu, the Hungarian spel ing of caribou, and up until now we have used it to refer to the wild creatures that are the American equivalent of reindeer. The reindeer itself, has been in man's service in Eurasia for over 3000 years, and it is also found in Alaska. It was imported here from Siberia at the beginning of the 20th century; it is a domesticated animal, and must not be confused with its wild, indigenous relative, the caribou.
The caribou is a very special deer: the females can also bear antlers, though theirs are 25 - 50%
smaller than those of the males. Interestingly, the females living in the northern regions almost always have antlers, while, as you go south, they become rarer and rarer. Caribou are medium-sized deer, with a height at their withers of about 3 1/2 - 4 1/2 ft., and a weight ranging between 265 - 600 lbs.
and are famous for being constantly on the move, almost the whole of the day. In the north, herds of caribou will migrate several thousand miles during the spring and autumn, searching for better weather and pasture. However, they are not terribly fussy, and will eat practically any plant that they come across. This is how they have managed to survive in these unfriendly northern regions. Their sight is poor, but their hearing is acute, and they have an excellent sense of smell. It is useful to remember that when you are hunting them. Wind direction is especially important in this type of hunt.
When frightened, they can run at speeds of up to 30 - 35 mph., but only for a short while. Their thick coats have a dual function: firstly the dense fur protects them from the harsh environment - they are real arctic survivors - secondly, because their hair is hollow, it enables them to float, and so, unsurprisingly, caribou are very good swimmers. The wolf is just about their only natural enemy, as only a pack of wolves is capable of the long, swift, and well-organised chase required to bring down a full-grown caribou.
It is rather like the roe-deer found in Hungary - everybody's big-game. Our fellow sportsmen in America can hunt them over many different locations, and for a very reasonable price; and if they cannot find them in one state, they will travel to another. Their antlers make a spectacular trophy.
Compared to other types of North American deer, hunting them is relatively easy. Today their numbers
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are estimated at between 2.3 and 2.8 million, compared to the 3.5m. before the arrival of European settlers, but, nevertheless, more than double the figure of 1.1m. of 1971.
At the time of writing these lines, the temperature has dropped again, to 35.5 F., and it has started snowing in Kavik Camp... Petra is writing letters, trying to reassure everyone. Everybody is quite relaxed, apart from those who have paid a small fortune for these ten days. They, and I include myself, are beginning to lose their sense of humor. I have to work out how, even if we get to the camp, I will be able to get back. It seems that with every case of bad weather you have to expect 2 - 3 days of waiting. But I definitely have to be back in Anchorage by the 20th August. I don't want to jeopardise my entire trip just for a Dall sheep. Today is the 10th. At the very earliest I could only begin hunting on the 12th, but I would have to reach the hunting camp tomorrow. That means that we wouldn't even spend a day at the base camp - the apparently unreachable Kavik Camp - but would fly on immediately to the hunting grounds.
We are constantly watching Weather.com and Google Earth. The wind is blowing from west, north-west, and we hope it will disperse the clouds over Kavik. But, according to the latest report, the snow is getting heavier, and the fog thicker.
I have an awful lot of spare time. I'm constantly on the net; I read my diary, and occasionally I ask Bob when we are going to leave. A huge Inuit is wandering around outside in shorts and a T-shirt. I feel cold just looking at him.