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TRCP’s Western conservation communications manager recounts his recent caribou hunt in Alaska’s Brooks Range, our country’s most remote landscape
A lot of folks who are lucky enough to take a fly-in hunting or fishing trip to Alaska say the extreme remoteness doesn’t fully hit them until the pilot takes off and the sound of the engine disappears.
But for me, it was on the flight in. I knew the pilot wasn’t going to stay. He wasn’t included in our float trip plans.
We flew over 150 miles from the airstrip, and once the Dalton Highway faded from view, the full expanse below was wild country. For 150 miles it was great mountains and long rivers and jeweled lakes and no roads or trails. To get out from where we were going was a distance that my brain was having trouble comprehending. I’d backpacked in the Bob Marshall Wilderness. I’d hunted wild country in the Rocky Mountains. But this place, the Brooks Range of northern Alaska, held a remoteness to a magnitude I’d never experienced.
Our group of four (Dan, David, John, and me) and three boats (I can’t row in a pool) spent the first day unloading gear, blowing up rafts, and staring in awe of a landscape we’d dreamed of for years. Since hunting on the day you fly in is illegal, we took up the fly rods and waded into the river expecting grayling and resident char.
However, when John made it to a cliff wall with an obvious pool below and yelped with excitement, I figured that must mean the sea-run Dolly Varden had made their way into the headwaters.
The fish—20-30 inches in length—hugged the bottom and were strung out in a line on the inside seam of the current. We crouched above them and swung purple, gold, and pink streamers in front of their noses. The Dollies ate with anger and ran with marine strength. Their wide, heavy bodies rode the pull of the river and their color flashed brilliantly in the cold, clear water. A few males tail danced, but most wanted to bully in the deep, giving the 8wts as much bend as they could stand.
The hens had bellies pink as a sunset and the tips of their mouths were lipsticked orange. The males sported blood-red bellies, kyped jaws, and sharp, jagged teeth. All sides were spotted red with blue halos. For an angler used to brook trout, this was the pinnacle of char fishing. That night, all I dreamed of was fish, despite being able to hunt caribou when the morning arrived.
The next day we floated downriver spooking Dollies in every hole, but our focus was on caribou. We made camp six miles downriver, then spent the afternoon and evening glassing the wide basin that opened to the river valley. Blueberries were ripe all around us, and I found a matching set of sheds below the glassing knob.
Yet no caribou showed in our hours of searching, though the landscape surrounding us displayed the scars of their meandering trails running south. The herd’s path was here, but the herd was not. Their presence etched in the foothills was a clear example of the massive ranges these animals demand for their seasonal movements. Despite supporting so much life, large mammals must travel thousands of miles across the Arctic to find forage and suitable habitats month to month. It will sometimes take a caribou herd years to use their entire range, but ensuring these habitats remain intact means the animals can move where they must in order to thrive.
After another night in the teepees, we woke early to climb a bench to the north that overlooked a wide drainage to the east. Before mid-morning, we reached a highpoint to look into the river bottom. And there, as obvious as the sun, were four bull caribou on the white rocks along the river.
We made a quick play down off the bench, following a spring seep to keep out of sight. Unfortunately, the caribou came up the bench one rise too far and spooked when the wind carried our scent to them.
As they made their way up over the bench and out of sight, I was struck by how they almost floated over the ground we’d been stumbling through. Their bodies made no wasted movements. Their heads held high carrying the Dr. Suess-esc antlers. Their fur still a dark, summer coat that popped against the willows going yellow and the blueberries and Labrador tea burning red.
The Brooks Range must be conserved to ensure future generations experience this remote country. To struggle through tussocks, to wade freezing rivers, to see grizzly tracks in the sand, to watch caribou cross country, to eat blueberries by the fistful, and to fall asleep exhausted at the end of the day and dream of doing it all again the next morning.
We followed the bulls and found them in the riverbed feeding. Dan and David traced the end of the bench out toward them, while John and I made a beeline across the dry basin to the east. After 400 yards, we hit the dry creek bed and waited to see what direction the caribou would go.
Either pushed by Dan and David or by their own sense of direction, the caribou crossed below us in a single file, and began to follow the rise that would curve them back our way. We scrambled to the cutbank, climbed up, and watched the group close the distance.
One bull was larger than the rest. His antlers tall and bent in a C. I traced him in my scope as the group closed the distance from 300 to 250 yards, and when John called the final “189,” the bull stepped up on a rise enough for me to see his vitals. With the shot he dropped into the tundra and laid still.
I thanked the bull when I set my hands on his neck and velveted antlers. The three remaining bulls made their way into the drainage to the east and disappeared. David and Dan arrived, and we all celebrated the first caribou of the trip, the immediate redemption of a missed opportunity, and the gift of good meat that would supplement the freeze-dried meals we all packed.
The day was cool and having shot the bull in the middle of a dry plain meant a grizzly wouldn’t easily sneak in on us. The clocks hadn’t yet struck 10 a.m. and so we took our time around the bull; admiring his antlers and the body that had carried him across thousands of miles of this wild country before we broke him down into quarters.
With many hands working, the quartering and packing was swift. And suddenly we were hiking back upriver, loaded heavy, with breaking down camp and meat care ahead of us. I shook my head in disbelief at the dream of a successful caribou hunt being realized so soon after our drop off.
That night around the fire, fingers greasy from tenderloins wrapped in caul fat, I knew there was over a week left of this trip, and my pulling the trigger only an instant in the whole tale. There were three tags that needed to be clipped onto antlers, and miles of river to ply for char and grayling. Those days would pass as days do, but for the moment, it was all before us, which makes for an adventure.
The hunt above occurred on the North Slope of the Brooks Range, hundreds of miles away from the proposed Ambler Road. However, the sweeping crescent of the Brooks Range running east to west across northern Alaksa offers, in its totality, the wildest country left in America. The land that the Ambler industrial corridor would cut across along the Kobuk River is different from the landscape of my hunt, but the remote character is similar, and barreling semis and thousands of culverts interrupting the movements of iconic Arctic animals and fish and degrading the wild space would ruin the experience that so many hunters and anglers travel so far to reach.
The Brooks Range must be conserved to ensure future generations experience this remote country. To struggle through tussocks, to wade freezing rivers, to see grizzly tracks in the sand, to watch caribou cross country, to eat blueberries by the fistful, and to fall asleep exhausted at the end of the day and dream of doing it all again the next morning.
The proposed Ambler Road would forever alter the wild character of this country. The 211-mile industrial corridor would slice across the southern foothills of the Brooks Range and require over 2,900 culverts with the potential to cinch off spawning areas for sheefish and Arctic grayling. The estimated 168 daily trips on the road would likely impact big game movement such as the Western Arctic caribou herd that migrates through the region.
Fortunately, after an extensive public comment period where over 14,000 hunters and anglers voiced their opposition to the corridor, the Bureau of Land Management issued its final Record of Decision denying the Ambler Road permits in June 2024. The BLM has concluded that there is no way to adequately mitigate the potential impacts of any version of the proposed Ambler Road. Still, new threats to the Brooks Range are emerging.
An amendment in the Senate version of the National Defense Authorization Act would rescind the Bureau of Land Management’s recent decision to defend Alaska’s Brooks Range and force the Department of the Interior to permit the Ambler Road. It’s critical that the Ambler Road amendment be removed from the final version of this must-pass legislation, which funds our military and will be negotiated by lawmakers in the coming months.
We need your voice! Send a message directly to your elected officials and urge them to remove the Ambler amendment from the NDAA by clicking HERE!
Memo will formalize and expand USDA’s commitment to migration conservation and enhance benefits for wildlife habitat connectivity and corridors in partnership with public land managers, state agencies, Tribes, private landowners, and NGOs
Today, hunters and conservationists celebrated the signing of a Memorandum from Secretary of Agriculture Tom Vilsack that recognizes the importance of USDA’s role in conserving wildlife movement and migration habitats across public and private lands.
“This Secretarial Memo sends a clear message that the USDA recognizes the important role that the Department’s programs and policies play to enhance big game migration and habitat across the country,” said Joel Pedersen, president and CEO of the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership. “The TRCP thanks Secretary Vilsack and the USDA for their leadership to highlight how voluntary efforts can improve wildlife habitat on public and private lands, which is crucial to ensure the next generation of sportsmen and sportswomen can experience healthy big game herds.”
To date, the USDA’s Migratory Big Game Initiative has leveraged programs within the Natural Resource Conservation Service and Farm Services Agency to support voluntary private land conservation projects in Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho.
Today’s announcement enhances and expands upon this work and directs several USDA agencies, specifically NRCS, FSA, the U.S. Forest Service, and the Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service to:
– Consider terrestrial wildlife habitat connectivity and corridors in relevant planning processes, programs, and assessments. This would include NRCS and FSA Farm Bill conservation programs, USFS Joint Chiefs Landscape Restoration Partnerships program, USFS land management planning and wildfire crisis planning, and APHIS wildlife disease management programs.
– Improve internal coordination and delivery of USDA planning processes and programs to increase outcomes for wildlife connectivity, such as through continued alignment of NRCS and FSA private landowner programs to maximize habitat connectivity outcomes, encouragement of innovation in conservation practices, and additional financial assistance.
– Improve coordination with states, Tribes, and other federal agencies, including recognition of Tribal sovereignty and individual state authorities, and improve direct collaboration with the Department of the Interior, Department of Transportation, Department of Defense, and other agencies.
– Collaborate with non-governmental organizations to facilitate engagement with and support of local communities.
“The Mule Deer Foundation applauds the signing of this Secretarial Memo to ensure that the full suite of USDA programs and resources are coordinated to sustain mule deer and other big game populations that migrate,” said Steve Belinda, Chief Conservation Officer for the Mule Deer Foundation. “Like DOI’s Secretarial Order 3362, USDA has the potential to facilitate on-the-ground conservation over a vast area of public and private lands that are critical to conserving and improving mule deer and other wildlife habitat.”
“The Department of Agriculture has an essential role in maintaining the movements of wildlife throughout the United States,” said Mike Leahy, Senior Director of Wildlife, Hunting, and Fishing Policy for the National Wildlife Federation. “We are glad the Department of Agriculture is expanding their commitment to keep elk, deer, antelope, and other wildlife moving through our fragmented landscapes, and look forward to the benefits this will bring to hunting, wildlife populations, and collaboration in conservation.”
“CSF thanks the USDA for initiating this effort that will help enhance conservation for migratory wildlife and their associated habitats,” said Congressional Sportsmen’s Foundation President and CEO Jeff Crane. “CSF will continue to prioritize wildlife connectivity through Interior Secretarial Order 3362, the Wildlife Highway Crossings Pilot Program, USDA’s Migratory Big Game Initiative, the Wildlife Movement Through Partnerships Act, and now the USDA Secretarial Memo.”
“Big game migration corridors have been a policy and investment focus of the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation for many years, and we have been pleased by the strong bipartisan support for the issue across administrations and in Congress,” said Blake Henning, Chief Conservation Officer for RMEF. “This USDA Secretarial Memo aligns with the existing Department of Interior Secretarial Order 3362 and will help leverage private lands conservation programs to bolster habitat across the landscape in coordination with state-led action plans. RMEF appreciates that USDA recognizes the leadership that hunters have played in this and other conservation successes in America.”
The Secretarial Memorandum directs USDA agencies to establish a USDA Terrestrial Wildlife Habitat Connectivity and Corridors Committee charged with implementation of the Memorandum. An initial progress report is due to the Secretary by June 30, 2025.
Learn more about TRCP’s work on big game migration conservation HERE.
The TRCP is your resource for all things conservation. In our weekly Roosevelt Report, you’ll receive the latest news on emerging habitat threats, legislation and proposals on the move, public land access solutions we’re spearheading, and opportunities for hunters and anglers to take action. Sign up now.
TRCP’s Nevada field representative Carl Erquiaga recently published the below story about hunting migrating mule deer with his granddaughters in the November 2024 issue of Fur Fish Game magazine. This long-established periodical will celebrate 100 years of contiguous publication in 2025
As I’ve grown older, having granddaughters has become one of the most enjoyable parts of my life. My eldest granddaughter Hayden, now 14, drew her first deer tag in our home state of Nevada in 2022. We did our best to make the most of the entire experience and it was, quite honestly, nothing short of perfect. She took a nice muley buck after hunting for several days, and the family was very proud of her – no one prouder than her Papaw.
Each child and grandchild my wife and I are blessed with has a special place in our hearts. My second granddaughter Carly, being my namesake, has a grip on me I cannot explain. She’s a little sassy with a wry sense of humor that we share. She’s also fiercely independent.
In 2023, Carly, age 12, became eligible for a hunting license. She hoped to draw one of Nevada’s coveted youth deer tags. Before she could buy a license and apply, she was required to pass the Nevada Department of Wildlife’s Hunter Safety course. I helped Carly study, went over gun safety as well as some basic wildlife management principles, and attended the class with her. She passed with flying colors.
When Hayden turned 12, I bought her first hunting license and helped her fill out the application for her tags. I did likewise for Carly. As luck would have it, Carly drew a northeast Nevada deer tag for the October 2023 season. The mule deer herd there is migratory, but I had confidence we’d find deer.
Carly prepared for the hunt all summer. She shot a .22 rimfire, then graduated to her uncle’s youth-sized .243 Winchester. True to family form, she was a natural shooter.
In mid-October, we – Carly, her father (my son-in-law) Garrett, and myself – packed my camp trailer and made the six-hour drive to the unit. We’d scheduled six days for the trip, but I didn’t believe we’d need that long. Oh, the best laid plans of mice and men.
As the sun illuminated the slope, we glassed the basin ahead and saw a group of does with three small bucks in the shadows.
We arrived at camp early enough to make a short afternoon hunt. As we made our way up the first of many rough, rocky roads, I asked Carly if she was ready to wake up at 4:30 a.m. every morning. “Yes!” she said, with no hesitation.
I told her I didn’t want to make this too much work, but hunting big game does require commitment. She said she was ready. I jokingly mentioned something about not wanting her to be grumpy in the morning.
“You know, Papaw, I’m generally a pretty jovial person,” she quipped. I tried to contain my laughter, recalling a slightly less than jovial stage – thanks to her fiercely independent streak.
We spent the evening glassing to no avail. It rained off and on most of the afternoon. With the temperature dropping, we returned to camp, ate and warmed up. The RV made it easy to keep Carly’s spirits high. We planned to be in another area at daylight.
I never sleep well the first night of a hunt, and when the alarm went off, it felt like I had just fallen sleep. I didn’t want to wake Carly, but to my surprise she popped out of bed and got her breakfast together, not quite jovial, but as good as one can be at 4:30 a.m.
We made it out of camp plenty early but had to wait for sunrise before going up the road. It’s a good thing we did. We hadn’t even reached the canyon when a young buck and doe crossed the road in front of us – no chance for a shot – so we eased up the trail to the ridge.
As the sun illuminated the slope, we glassed the basin ahead and saw a group of does with three small bucks in the shadows. They were a mile away, but we noted their location and turned up the ridge.
On top, Garrett spotted more does with one small buck in the draw below. They were working their way up the opposite ridge and soon disappeared over the top. We tried to cut them off, but rounding the last corner, into the draw, we saw does running, but no buck. I was about to whisper to Carly he might still be there, when he ran out, full tilt, stotted over the ridge, with no chance for a shot.
We spent the rest of the day glassing and checking new areas, ending up in the basin where the shadow bucks were at first light. We saw plenty of wildlife, including pronghorns, chukars, and sage grouse, but the bucks never materialized. Still, the day was a success because Carly remained in great spirits.
The next morning, we were up very early again, returning to where we’d been the first afternoon. It was October 14, when the solar eclipse passed over Nevada. We hoped to see it later that morning, if the clouds broke.
When we reached where we wanted to glass, a side-by-side UTV with three young men pinned behind binoculars greeted us. The canyon below showed three deer – two forkhorns and a small three-point – moving through brush toward the closest ridge. They were well out of range, so I took the opportunity to teach Carly some hunter etiquette. The other hunters were there first. I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t cut them off if we went after the bucks. I was ready to talk to them, but they picked up their gear, headed in a different direction, evidently not interested in the bucks.
Those bucks were exactly what we were looking for. As soon as the trio disappeared behind the ridge we went after them.
The memories made with my granddaughters were only possible with Nevada’s incredible wildlife. The deer we hunted migrate across hundreds of miles to their winter range. If we as hunters want to continue to make meaningful memories outdoors with our families, we must get involved in conservation efforts.
We made good time reaching where they’d fed, their tracks peppering the ground. We followed those tracks around to the edge of the canyon, when I spotted the bucks 140 yards on the opposite side, according to the rangefinder.
Feeding off each other’s excitement, I set up the tripod for Carly. One buck moved up the ridge between bushes where, if he stopped, Carly would have a good shot.
But he didn’t stop, traveling almost out of range.
I felt uncomfortable having Carly shoot at the moving buck. I felt it was better to let him go, and didn’t feel too bad when he ducked into some very thick aspens. The other two should be following shortly. One was that nice three-point.
We waited for his friends to come along. We waited and waited. But they never came out.
Now, I felt disappointed for not letting Carly try a shot. She might have connected when the buck wasn’t moving. I’d hoped for the better buck, but that wouldn’t matter to her. In fact, at one point, the little buck stepped out of the aspens, broadside, at 400 yards. She asked if she could try the shot. I told her no because she’d never shot that far. Better to be sure than take a risky shot.
Walking back to the truck, I was feeling bad. But Carly was still excited and looking forward to the eclipse. Kids are so resilient.
Watching the eclipse with her and her dad was a very special experience. The rest of that day and the next we continued to explore as much new country as we could. We saw deer every day, but no bucks within range or in places we could stalk. Some bucks we tried to stalk, only to find another hunter filled his tag on them. The others gave us the slip.
On Sunday night, the return trip looming, our spirits were low. We’d have time for a four-hour hunt that morning before breaking camp and heading home. At 4:30 a.m. we all moved a little slower, a little bit grumpy.
We went to the spot where Carly’s father had shot his first deer in 2020. That day, we only had time for a short hunt, but we made it happen. I hoped for a repeat. But despite checking several honey holes, we didn’t see a deer. Returning to camp, I told Carly I was sorry she didn’t tag a deer, and that I was proud of her great attitude and thanked her for wanting to hunt.
“It’s okay I didn’t get one,” she said. “But I am a little less jovial. There’s always next year. And I will be glad to get home, take a shower, and sleep in.”
Then she gave me a hug and said, “I love you, Papaw.”
I believe Carly learned a great deal about hunting and the responsibilities that go with it. I’m sure some of my ramblings about wildlife and its management challenges will sink in. And I know there are still good kids out there who are being given the tools to get through life and make good decisions. I’m very proud of my kids and grandkids.
The memories made with my granddaughters were only possible with Nevada’s incredible wildlife. The deer we hunted migrate across hundreds of miles to their winter range. If we as hunters want to continue to make meaningful memories outdoors with our families, we must get involved in conservation efforts.
Subscribe to Fur Fish Game HERE.
Learn more about TRCP’s work on big game migration conservation HERE.
The TRCP is your resource for all things conservation. In our weekly Roosevelt Report, you’ll receive the latest news on emerging habitat threats, legislation and proposals on the move, public land access solutions we’re spearheading, and opportunities for hunters and anglers to take action. Sign up now.
Plan amendment creates consistency between federal and state jurisdictions for oil
and gas development within high priority big game habitat, sets precedent for
efficiently updating management plans statewide
The Colorado Bureau of Land Management recently signed a Record of Decision on their Resource Management Plan Amendment for Big Game Habitat Conservation to align the federal agency’s oil and gas management with State of Colorado policies where there is overlap with high priority big game habitat. Hunters, anglers, and other wildlife conservationists appreciate BLM’s work to conserve important big game habitat while facilitating multiple uses when and where they’re most compatible.
“This ROD marks the conclusion of over two years of hard work by Colorado BLM staff, cooperating agencies including Colorado Parks and Wildlife, Colorado Department of Natural Resources, and local governments, and non-profit hunting and conservation organizations,” said Liz Rose, Colorado field representative for the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership. “Thank you to those agency staff members, and to all the hunters and anglers who submitted feedback and comments to the BLM throughout the plan development process.”
This ROD amends land management plans for 12 Colorado BLM field offices, creating more management consistency across the state where important big game habitats overlap with oil and gas leasing and development activity. Colorado BLM manages 8.3 million acres of land for multiple uses, which include oil and gas development, renewable energy development, ranching, and recreational use such as hunting, fishing, camping, rafting, and hiking. A significant portion of these lands—approximately 6.3 million acres—is also top priority habitat for Colorado’s elk, mule deer, pronghorn, and bighorn sheep populations.
This planning effort sets the precedent for efficiently incorporating new data and research and updating management plans statewide to facilitate responsible management of multiple uses on our public lands to conserve important fish and wildlife resources.
We encourage the Colorado BLM to leverage their expertise and updated repository of big game data and science to develop responsible management policies related to other uses of BLM land, including but not limited to renewable energy development and recreation, for which demand continues to grow.
Read more in TRCP’s recent blog covering the proposed final plan HERE.
Photo credit: Abid Karamali
Theodore Roosevelt’s experiences hunting and fishing certainly fueled his passion for conservation, but it seems that a passion for coffee may have powered his mornings. In fact, Roosevelt’s son once said that his father’s coffee cup was “more in the nature of a bathtub.” TRCP has partnered with Afuera Coffee Co. to bring together his two loves: a strong morning brew and a dedication to conservation. With your purchase, you’ll not only enjoy waking up to the rich aroma of this bolder roast—you’ll be supporting the important work of preserving hunting and fishing opportunities for all.
$4 from each bag is donated to the TRCP, to help continue their efforts of safeguarding critical habitats, productive hunting grounds, and favorite fishing holes for future generations.
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