We have arrived in the town of Aniak, after a 30min. flight. From here we must catch another flight to the base camp. Or, to be precise, we are supposed to catch one; but the outfitter, Bob Adams, has left a message for us in the departure lounge. It says that his time of arrival is uncertain, as he is unable at present to take off from the base camp because of fog. He asks us to wait for him in Aniak (what other choice do we have?).
To be frank, Aniak is not exactly the center of the universe. I've been to several of these northern towns, but never to one as boring as this. There is absolutely nothing here whatsoever. We can't even work out where the people live. There's an airport of one building, and a solitary supermarket. But where are the people's houses? In fact, where are the people? These are unanswerable questions - all the more so, as we can't find anyone to ask!
Over the days ahead I plan to hunt a Grizzly bear, an Alaskan Giant Moose, a Black bear and another caribou.
In his excellent diary, recording his 1935 expedition, Zsigmond Széchenyi mentions the controversy over the number of bear species to be found in Alaska. Well, the bear issue has remained unresolved; there is still a lot of misleading information circulating in hunting literature.
However, if we analyse this information, it soon becomes evident that the matter is not that complicated: there are exactly three species of bear living in Alaska.
The Polar Bear - this requires no further details. It's just a nice, big teddy bear that happens to be white, and is protected in Alaska. The next one is the Black Bear, or Baribal, which has a a very rare sub-species, called the Glacier Bear. There's very little opportunity to shoot one of these Glacier Bears, but later in my trip I hope to have the chance.
And now comes the great bogeyman of Alaskan hunting taxonomy. The simplest way to categorize brown bears is this: in Alaska there is only one species of Brown Bear! Its latin name is Ursus arctos. So, if you shoot something in Alaska that looks like a bear, and is a brown color,
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you can be pretty sure that it belongs to this species. (The situation becomes more complex when we learn that there are brown variations of the black bear, but this is a completely different species; and, on top of all that, a very large black bear can sometimes reach the same size as a small grizzly. So, telling the difference between them all, especially just before taking a shot, requires a lot of experience. The brown-colored black bear is very rare here, and doesn't have the characteristic hump found on the back of the brown bear, so the risk of mistakenly identifying this species is reduced.)
In Alaska the brown bear has two sub-species: one is the Alaskan Brown Bear (Ursus arctos middendorffi), better known among hunters as the Kodiak. Another point of confusion for us Magyars is that the Hungarian name for this sub-species includes the name of the whole species and also uses the term "brown bear". The other sub-species, the famous Grizzly (Ursus arctos horribilis) has, in English, the full name of Common Grizzly Bear. For the sake of thoroughness, I must also add that there is another, newer sub-species, also called Grizzly, the Barren Ground Grizzly Bear (Ursus arctos richardsoni), which is only found in Canada.
The grizzly is smaller than the Alaskan Brown Bear, and costs less to shoot. Another thing that causes confusion is that vain European hunters seem to be embarrassed to admit to their hunting pals back home that they've "only" bagged a grizzly, rather than the giant Alaskan Brown Bear.
So, when recounting their hunting tales, they will just say: "I shot a brown bear in Alaska". As I've just explained, this is technically true, as the grizzly is also a member of the species. But in Alaska, whenever the term brown bear is heard in hunting circles, we can be certain that it refers to the big Alaskan Brown Bear.
To safely differentiate between the two sub-species while actually out hunting, is impossible.
Their habitats overlap, and in some places they even interbreed. In general, it may be said that the Alaskan Brown Bear tends to live in coastal areas and on Alaskan islands, including, of course, the notorious Kodiak Island, which has given its name to that particular sub-species. One of the contributory factors to its huge size is that, living around coastal river mouths, it can find abundant supplies of fish, which are rich in protein and help it to reach its large stature. I have read recently that the big monsters living on Kodiak Island show some genetic differences to those on the mainland. The dimensions of their skulls, their teeth, and the shape of their claws, are all different, making it necessary to constantly update the record books with new sub-species.
Inland, within the continent itself, there are only grizzlies, whose smaller body size is due to their predominantly vegetarian diet. As there is no precise dividing line between the coastal and inland areas, the type of bear you shoot is determined by the Unit in which you shoot it.
All Alaska is divided into these hunting areas, known as Units. The relevance of these is that
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hunting certain species may be permitted in one, but banned in another, and the dates of the hunting seasons may vary from Unit to Unit. Their boundaries are determined scientifically, and there are no obvious signs of the borders on the ground itself. To a non-professional, like myself, their sizes and locations appear random, though, of course, they are not. A foreign hunter in Alaska does not need to worry about Units; it's enough that the guide, the professional, knows where you are, how far you can go, and what you can shoot. But, as I've just said, it is essential to remember that categorizing and identifying the bagged bear depends on the number of the Unit you are in. So, if a hunter wants to shoot a grizzly, or an Alaskan brown bear, he must decide in advance which Unit the hunt will take place in.
Bears shot in Units 1 -10 and 14 -18 are considered to be Alaskan brown bears, while those in any of the other Units are classified as grizzlies. This is the only rule that a bear hunter in Alaska needs to remember when determining which sub-species is living in that particular area. Now we can see why that author, who wrote that he had shot a grizzly on Kodiak Island, was writing complete nonsense: to find a grizzly there, you'd have to take it over I'm going to be hunting in Unit 18, and perhaps 19 as well, so, in theory, I have an equal chance of bagging either a grizzly, or an Alaskan brown bear. I know from my own experience that you shouldn't place too much importance on which sub-species you are going to hunt. If I see a desirable Alaskan brown bear in Unit 18 I shan't care if it runs over the boundary into Unit 19, where it will be called a grizzly, and I shoot it there.
On Wikipedia I've seen a very strange story about a grizzly.
In 2006 a bear was shot, and DNA tests then revealed that it was, in fact, half grizzly and half polar bear. According to the article, the two species are capable of interbreeding, but, so far, it is only known to have occurred in a zoo. What is even stranger is that breeding is preceded by each species' mating ritual, so an accidental fertilization seems unlikely. The article refers to a National Geographic link, which I consider to be a credible source. On the National Geographic site unbelievers can see the strange creature, which was shot by a hunter from Idaho, for themselves.
It is of interest that the current record for an Alaskan brown bear shows it to be a dwarf when compared to the short-faced bear (Arctodus simus), which used to live here. This animal had several sub-species in North America, and seems to have died out relatively recently, about 10,000 years ago, at the end of the last ice age. When on four legs, its height to its shoulders was a not-insignificant 5ft 3ins. and it weighed almost 1 ton. When standing upright it could tower over 11ft.! It got its name because its skull was so much shorter that those of today's bears. And unlike
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modern-day bears, which are more or less omniverous, the short-faced bear was exclusively a meat-eater requiring up to 35lbs of meat a day. It must have been a truly terrifying predator, but nevertheless, our ancestors hunted it successfully.
Today's hunters will be intrigued to hear that several specimens have been discovered frozen in the ice, so maybe it will be possible at some point to recover some of its DNA intact. The ability to clone animals has advanced to such a level that Professor Steven Schuster, of Pennsylvania University, has claimed that in the future we will certainly be able to recreate extinct species. This could mean that even Jurassic Park might become a reality one day, though I can't really envisage lots of T. Rexes running around the woods. Under ideal circumstances DNA can remain stable for up to 1 million years, so in fact there is only a realistic chance of resurrecting species that have recently died out. And we might not have to wait thousands of years for this to happen, as Spanish scientists have already managed to clone an extinct species of rock goat, though the kid only survived for 7 mins.
So it isn't too far-fetched to imagine that, in a few decades, the short-faced bear will be on the hunting list in Alaska!
It looks as if, over the next four days, I will be hunting grizzlies in Unit 19, so I will now describe this sub-species in greater detail. The length of its body ranges from 6 - 8ft. and its weight from 500 - 750lbs. Bearing this latter figure in mind, I'm always sceptical when I hear of bears weighing 660lbs. being shot in Transylvania. I do not think that these figures are credible, and suspect that they are the product of the excessive enthusiasm generated by a successful hunt.
Basically, a grizzly will try to eat anything that's made of meat. It will attack a Giant moose, happily eats fish, and doesn't mind carrion, either. Despite all this, it generally finds it difficult to maintain its daily nutritional requirements, which is why it has developed its omniverous tendencies. From the moment that it wakes from its winter dreams, it starts to eat plants to supplement its meat diet. Its favorites are various grasses and sedge, bulbils and roots, and nuts and berries. In other words, it will eat just about anything that comes within its radar.
The grizzly is one of North America's most prestigious and respectable trophies. According to Theodore Roosevelt, the grizzly is definitely the "top trophy" in America. For a hunter it is unthinkable to return home from North America, especially Alaska, without a grizzly, and, this is the hunt that I, personally, am looking forward to the most. It is the type of hunt that places the hunter in real danger. There are countless stories of hunters' lives being in peril during grizzly hunts, and some of them must be true. Here they think that, even though it is smaller than the Alaskan brown bear, it has a stronger build, making it more dangerous. That hunting grizzlies is no picnic, is confirmed by Dave Kelleyhouse, former Director of the Division of Wildlife Conservation, ADF&G. On its official website this experienced hunting expert writes as
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follows: "On big bears keep shooting until the bear is down and stays down. Big bears are nothing to mess around with trying for that “one shot kil ” so popular in sporting magazines."
As with all dangerous big game, there is an endless dispute over which caliber is best when hunting Alaskan bears.
Some European hunters base their decisions on Old World methods when deciding on the caliber to use for Alaskan brown bears. They usually arrive carrying .375 H&H Magnum rifles; some try the shoulder-punching .416 Magnum type, used for elephant hunting, but few go lower than a
.338 Winchester Magnum. The majority of local professionals with whom I spoke, both before and after I got here, and who spend a large part of their lives chasing bears, almost unanimously agree that a .30-06 is fine for shooting grizzlies safely. It is important to use modern, non-disintegrating bullets, and that the bullet mass is a minimum 200 grains (13gm). You just have to study the anatomy of the bear and be able to shoot. Despite its size and danger, a bear is not a strongly built animal, so, in practice, a .30-06 caliber generally works perfectly well. However, the Alaskan brown bear is a different matter; with this, a more high-powered bullet is a necessity. The world record SCI grizzly was shot in April 2001 in the GMU 19/B area of Alaska. Its giant skull boasts a length of 17.87ins, and a width of 10.31ins.
But it is quite possible that this record-breaking trophy will soon be banished to second place.
The week before I left for America I was told by Cabela's Outdoor Adventures that on 13th May this year (2009) one of their clients, Rodney Debias, bagged a royal monster, considered to be a potential new world record, and, what's more, did it near the area where I shall be hunting. The prestige of this trophy is further enhanced by the fact that the brave hunter bagged this Alaskan emperor with only a bow and arrow. Because the grizzly is perhaps the highest ranking American trophy, all measurements, and their confirmation, are subject to greater scrutiny than usual.
I eagerly await the final verdict.
The North American Moose is the largest deer on earth, and, as a species, has the largest antlers as well. The height of bulls, to their withers, can reach an impressive 7ft.6ins, and they can weigh 1390lbs, sometimes even more. It is a real giant - the European Moose is nowhere near it. Just as a point of interest, I'd like to mention that, according to the SCI record book, American and Asian moose have 70 chromosomes, whereas the European has only 68. Another characteristic of the species is that on its jaw it has a "bell" of flesh, which hangs down as far as 35.5ins. This unique growth gets larger as the animal ages. It has a hump on its back, and long legs with wide hooves, enabling it to move with ease over the marshy ground. Its antlers are very bulky and grow quickly; apparently they can grow up to 2.75ins. a week.
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The North American Moose can be subdivided into four sub-species.
The biggest is the Alaska-Yukon Moose (Alces alces gigas) which, in Hungary, is often called the Alaskan Giant Moose. It easily exceeds the average weight of the species; specimens of about 1785lbs. are not considered unusual. It is the only sub-species indigenous to Alaska, so is the only one available to hunt. In Canada there are three more sub-species, as well as this one: the Western Canada Moose (Alces alces andersoni), found over the greatest area, the Eastern Canada Moose (Aces alces americana), and the Shiras Moose (Alces alces shirasi). The habitat of these three latter sub-species stretches down to the north-eastern territory of the US, and in the case of the Shiras, extends even to the mid- and north-western territories. To obtain a set of trophies of all four sub-species is one of the most sought after achievements of the hunting world.
Whoever attempts to do this must take great care as all their habitats overlap each other, so you must ensure you know exactly which sub-species is living in a particular area. Information found in hunting literature suggests that stalking this moose is not as difficult as stalking other American deer, so you shouldn't have to go through a very gruelling hunt.
This is just one of several reasons explaining the appeal of this animal to European hunters in America. European hunters are very keen on convenience. I have no intention of comparing the hunting cultures of the two continents in detail, but, for me, there are two things that stand out.
Firstly, American hunters tend to be hardier, fitter, and more able to endure harsh conditions.
They are used to the tough weather, rough terrain, mountains, cold, and long, almost endless, stalks.
In Alaska you do not moan.
Secondly, they are generally good shots, and know all about their guns and ammunition. In this they must be greatly helped by the friendly gun laws, and there are many people here who must have been born almost with a gun in their hand, like their pioneer ancestors.
When Americans are assessing a pair of these shovel-like antlers, it is the width that is most important, though the SCI - fortunately - takes other measurements into consideration, and ranks antlers according to the number of points they have. The world record for an Alaskan-Yukon Moose trophy is a width of 6ft.2ins; the creature was bagged near Cordova, Alaska, in September 1999. However, the largest width belongs to a set of antlers that only rank 10th on the SCI list; the tape measure was stretched to no less than 6ft.8.5ins! That lucky hunter shot the animal near Wildman Lake in September 2003. Without a doubt this is going to be a very important trophy for me, as a Hungarian hunter; and I would be perfectly happy with a width of 6ft.
The moose, despite its enormous size, is well known for its weak physique. So, for this hunt, it won't be necessary to use a smal cannon. But, as in Széchenyi's case - and this has happened
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with other people, as well - it is often difficult to tell if the moose has been hit. The reason for this remains a secret of the species. Dave Kelleyhouse, whom I have already quoted, says this about it: "Except for big bears, there is no need to keep shooting at an animal after it has been well hit once in the lungs. An oldtimer once told me that "it doesn't matter whether a moose is shot well once or a dozen times, the beast will not die for a minute and 55 seconds." He was right. It seems to take almost two minutes for a lung shot moose to bleed out into the chest cavity and fall down. More shots just make more holes, a big mess, and wasted meat."
I'd like to add that, with a lung shot, I think it is not bleeding, but suffocation that causes death. I shoot every animal as long as it keeps moving. I do this because you can never be sure that the first bullet has hit the right place and done its job. And because, for me, the most fundamental law of hunting is that you cause the animal the least pain possible.
It might well be that two extra shots are not necessary, but it is better to have taken too many than too few. And if those extra two shots will shorten the animal's suffering by even 10secs. then I'm not going to economise on the ammunition. Of course, the damage to the meat will be greater, but you can't use the excuse of having more meat to justify letting the animal suffer.
Personal experience has taught me that - just like the FBI - I should always try and take at least two well-aimed shots, and remain on target after the second.
A strange thing once happened to me in my favorite hunting place in Hungary, near Csákvár, at the foot of Mt.Vértes. I was sitting in a hide overlooking a field of sunflowers, waiting for dawn and some luck, with that excellent local professional hunter, Robi. I was holding Robi's .30-06 caliber Mauser, which he always loaded with Sako Hammerhead 11.7gm shells. Suddenly, to our right, very, very stealthily, a young boar came out of the sunflowers into the clearing. It was so close that at first I didn't even notice it; I was looking beyond it. After being alerted by Robi, I fired, more from above than side on. The impact energy from such a close shot knocked the boar onto its back at once; I was watching all the time, through the riflescope, mistakenly thinking that I had delivered a fatal shot. Even though I had the chance to use up the entire magazine, I didn't.
And that was a big mistake.
The boar suddenly jumped up, turned around, and, showing us its right flank, ran back along its original track towards the sunflowers. After I had recovered from a temporary fit of amazement, I fired at it again, but just a little too late for a good shot, though I did manage to hit its right front leg. Again, this was an obvious hit: the huge force of the Sako seemed almost to blow off the front half of the boar. After a few faltering steps we heard the the young animal stop, sunflower stalks breaking, and then silence. Robi and I agreed that we'd bagged the boar, that we'd be taking it home, and so we just let the time pass by. When the hunt was over we climbed down,
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found the spot where the first shot took place and then Robi began following the trail. Well, for the next two or three hours, with a care that would put any hound to shame, Robi followed the trail, noting every drop and smear of blood. I, being color-blind, wouldn't have been able to see anything anyway, so I just stood about uselessly in the clearing. In all this trailing all I was asked to do was mark the final visible signs of the trail. There and then, Robi did everything he possibly could, but that boar could not be found. Neither then, nor later during harvest, when Robi asked the farm workers if they had come across a boar carcass. I felt terrible about it, and really couldn't understand what had actually happened. I hate it when a wounded game animal escapes, but, due to my regular shooting practice, it doesn't happen very often. We've talked it over several times since then, and finally managed to come up with a theory; because you always need an explanation.
Even if it does sound unlikely.
We decided that the first bullet must have hit the backbone and, despite the elevated angle, did not enter the body. It musy have ricocheted off the spine, or perhaps a rib, just causing superficial injury. And the shot that struck the right leg - regardless of its spectacular appearance - simply grazed it, and the boar probably recovered in a few days. It's not absolutely certain that this is what happened, but we just couldn't come up with anything better.
Since then I have almost always taken a second shot, even if the first seemed a definite hit. The only time I make an exception is if the game collapses immediately after the first shot. But even then I don't stop watching it through the riflescope until all movement has stopped.
The black bear can reach a size similar to its fellow species on the American continent, but it is the only one that can boast of being a pure American breed. I might say that it is a real, blue-blooded, pedigree American. Even its name shows how proud it is of its origin: the American Black Bear. For those who doubt its ancestry, here is the latin name: Ursus americanus. It is the most widespread species of bear on the planet; it would be difficult to find areas in Alaska and Canada where they are not found in great numbers. The only exception might be the most northerly polar regions. Its general habitat extends as far south as Central America, so no American hunter need travel very far to get a black bear skin for his trophy room. Its height to its shoulder hardly ever exceeds 3ft. and its weight is around 175 - 300lbs. As with brown bears, we see the same phenomenon occurring, that the average weight of those living on the coast is much greater than those that live inland, the reason being that the coastal bears have easier access high-protein food. This enables some black bears on the eastern coast to reach a huge 600lbs.
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Unsurprisingly, the color of the black bear is usually black, but there are known to be many other variations. What is interesting about bears is that their color tends to adapt itself to the surroundings. It's worth mentioning this because, according to a belief widely held in Europe, prey animals cannot distinguish colors. But, if they can't, why does an infallible evolution always favor those bears whose color is suited to their habitat. Is it possible that prey animals can, in some way, spot the difference between certain colors? If so, it would mean that Americans do not wear camouflage clothing purely for reasons of fashion, as Hungarians suppose. Hungarians believe that prey animals are color-blind and so wearing that kind of clothing won't help them to blend into their surroundings.
In the many color variations found found in black bears, two are considered real curiosities. One is the previously mentioned Glacier Bear, which is categorized as a sub-species under the name emmonsii by Dall (yes, the same guy who gave his name to the sheep). Its blue tinted fur is an exceptionally rare phenomenon. But even this blue variation appears commonplace when compared to the white black bear, which is a true absurdity. A white black bear is not a common occurrence.
This sub-species, the Kermode Bear, kermodei in latin, should not be confused with albinos bears. It is white, but it is not albino. They are only found on certain islands off the north-west coast of British Columbia, in Canada, and, quite rightly, enjoy the full protection of the law.
Black bears are very adaptable, and are the most commonly found type of bear on the continent.
Altogether there are 16 sub-species; but fortunately the SCI exercises commendable self-restraint, and puts them all on the same record list. Their hunting - as in my case - is frequently combined with hunts for other game. The world record was shot on the Alaskan island of Kuiu, in May 1996. The measurements of the skull of this record-breaker are 13.87ins. long and 9.06ins.
wide. I'd like to point out that the lucky hunter did not enlist the help of any local professionals, but did it all