Alaska Sporting Journal - January 2023

A Unique Big Game Hunting Ranch

Nestled in the foothills of the Ozark Mountains in Missouri, High Adventure Ranch offers all of the excitement of western big game hunting without the costs and hassles.

Be prepared for a fair chase hunt! With over 3 square miles of prime natural habitat, our ranch provides challenges to even the most seasoned hunter, but our experienced guides and “No Game, No Pay” policy practically ensure that you won’t go home empty handed. In addition, High Adventure’s hunting season is year-round, allowing ample time to fit the most demanding schedule.

While our whitetail, elk, wild boar and red stag hunts top our hunter’s most popular lists, hunters from around the world have visited our ranch, hunting everything from American bison, black buck, fallow deer to Spanish goats and African game.

So, whether you desire a 10-point whitetail mount for your trophy room or simply the thrill and challenge of taking down one of our many elusive big game animals, High Adventure Ranch guarantees memories of an unparalleled hunting experience that will bring you back again and again.

Red Stag

Red Stag

Wild Boar

Whitetail

PUBLISHER

James R. Baker

GENERAL MANAGER

John Rusnak

EXECUTIVE EDITOR

Andy Walgamott

EDITOR

Chris Cocoles

WRITERS

Bjorn Dihle, Scott Haugen, Tiffany Haugen, Brian Watkins

SALES MANAGER

Paul Yarnold

ACCOUNT EXECUTIVES

Colleen Chittick, Riland Risden, Diana Medel Robles, Mike Smith

DESIGNER

Lesley-Anne Slisko-Cooper

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT

Kelly Baker

WEB DEVELOPMENT/INBOUND MARKETING

Jon Hines

ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT Katie Aumann

INFORMATION SERVICES MANAGER

Lois Sanborn

ADVERTISING INQUIRIES

media@media-inc.com

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CORRESPONDENCE

Twitter @AKSportJourn Facebook.com/alaskasportingjournal Email ccocoles@media-inc.com

ON THE COVER

Volume 12 • Issue 8 www.aksportingjournal.com Pistol Bullets and Ammunition Pistol Bullets and Ammunition Zero Bullet Company, Inc. P.O. Box 1188 Cullman, AL 35056 Tel: 256-739-1606 Fax: 256-739-4683 Toll Free: 800-545-9376 www.zerobullets.com

36 DANCING WITH THE DEVIL

26 ANOTHER STEP FORWARD FOR BRISTOL BAY PROTECTIONS

A recent decision from the federal Environmental Protection Agency’s Region 10 o ce o ered more hope to those who long to permanently protect Bristol Bay’s vital salmon habitat from the Pebble Mine and similar projects. And while that Recommended Determination will get another review, find out what the principles are saying about this latest development.

45 GET A LOAD OF THIS

Scott Haugen learned a valuable lesson during a Last Frontier waterfowl hunt a season ago: “Don’t trust a load just because it’s supposed to be something special.” In his and wife Ti any’s latest From Field to Fire entry, Haugen explains just how important patterning your shotgun can be when it comes time to take accurate shots at ducks and geese. And for when you score your limit on birds, try making Ti any’s duck pastrami to create a classic deli-approved sandwich with an Alaskan twist!

52 TAKE ME FISHING, DAD

Our longtime scribe Bjorn Dihle loves introducing his young sons to the beauty of Southeast Alaska’s outdoors lifestyle. And while he’s not the most passionate angler, when 3½-year-old Shiras begged his daddy to take him fishing, how could Bjorn say no? Join father and son and Bjorn’s youngest boy Theron for a ride that would test everyone’s patience.

Alaska Sporting Journal is published monthly. Call Media Inc. Publishing Group for a current rate card. Discounts for frequency advertising. All submitted materials become the property of Media Inc. Publishing Group and will not be returned. Annual subscriptions are $29.95 (12 issues) or $49.95 (24 issues). Send check or money order to Media Inc. Publishing Group, 941 Powell Ave SW, Suite 120, Renton, WA 98057 or call (206) 382-9220 with VISA or M/C. Back issues may be ordered at Media Inc. Publishing Group, subject to availability, at the cost of $5 plus shipping. Copyright © 2023 Media Inc. Publishing Group. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be copied by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording by any information storage or retrieval system, without the express written permission of the publisher. Printed in U.S.A.

In Alaska’s rugged Wrangell Mountains, hunting Dall sheep is not for the faint of heart. But Brian Watkins took on this unforgiving terrain and scored himself quite a ram and an equally

EDITOR’S NOTE

I’ve never been to Bristol Bay, but in all of my experiences of chatting with either locals or those who have spent time chasing the salmon of their angler dreams, I can picture what a special place it is. In fact, I know what a special place it is.

The Environmental Protection Agency’s Region 10 o ce has determined that some of the proposed Pebble Mine’s discharges of dredged or fill material could a ect several rivers and creeks in the Bristol Bay watershed, home to one of the world’s most important salmon spawning regions.

Before I began my tenure at Media Inc. Publishing, most of what I knew about salmon was when I’d order it at restaurants, plus the memorable salmon meal prepared by a dear friend at her

home years ago. Long before that as a kid I remember watching a Jacques Cousteau documentary about salmon. And when I was too young to fully understand, I teared up finding out the fish died at the end of their journey.

A recent YouTube search found that show, titled The Tragedy of the Red Salmon, part of the great oceanographer’s documentary series Jacques Cousteau Odyssey

I felt nostalgic rewatching that episode so many years later. It was filmed on Kodiak Island, and both Cousteau and Twilight Zone creator Rod Serling share the narration for this 1970 production. Cousteau says it best as we follow the sockeye return upstream toward Frazer Lake from the sea.

“As the elected ones dash forward for

their last test,” the Frenchman narrates as he and his crew watch the reds hit their final stretch, “we salute the epic travelers at the (end) of their odyssey. It is nature’s wisdom other than tragedy. The strongest have survived to spawn and live on in their progeny, thus continually improving the species.”

To the northwest of Kodiak in the Bristol Bay watershed, the remarkable journey of the salmon that are born there and die there represent a celebration of life worth fighting for.

“To keep it that way, we must ensure the headwaters remain free of mining, dams and other destructive industrial activities,” said Alaska Environment state director Dyani Chapman.

Somewhere, Monsieur Cousteau would wholeheartedly agree. -Chris Cocoles

The ancestors of these spawning Kodiak Island sockeye were once captured on film by famed oceanographer Jacques Cousteau. The editor hopes those fish and others in Bristol Bay will be preserved for generations to come. (LISA HUPP/U.S. FISH AND WILDLIFE SERVICE)

RELIEF COMING FOR BATTERED ALASKA FISH COMMUNITIES

Alaska’s fishing industry has been a study of extremes of late. While Bristol Bay is setting sockeye harvest records, king salmon stocks are dangerously low throughout the state and Bering Sea crabbing seasons have been shut down.

For some devastated communities, help is on the way via federal disaster relief. U.S. Secretary of Commerce Gina Raimondo, reacting to a federal disaster declaration request from Alaska Governor Mike Dunleavy, announced disaster assistance for the following fisheries:

2021/2022 and 2022/2023 Bristol Bay red king crab and Bering Sea snow crab fisheries

2021 Kuskokwim River salmon and Norton Sound chum and coho salmon fisheries

2021 Chignik salmon fisheries

2020 Copper River/Prince William Sound coho and pink salmon fisheries

2020/2021 Norton Sound red king crab fisheries

“The Secretary, working with NOAA Fisheries, evaluates each fishery disaster request based primarily on data submitted by the requesting state. A declared fishery disaster must meet specific requirements under the Magnuson-Stevens Fishery Conservation and Management Act and/or the Interjurisdictional Fisheries Act,” the State of Alaska said in a press release.

“This is a critical step in the process of getting economic relief for Alaska fishery participants and fishery-related businesses and families,” added state Department of Fish and Game Commissioner Doug Vincent-Lang. “We thank the Secretary of Commerce for these disaster determinations and look forward to helping expedite this process where possible.”

AL ASKA BEAT

TWEET OF THE MONTH

Alaska’s fascinating fish are worth preserving for generations to come!

Muskox-caused deaths for humans are rare, but fatal dog deaths are more common, which could have been the reason why a Nome man was killed trying to protect his kennels from a herd he attempted to scare away. (U.S. FISH AND WILDLIFE SERVICE)

The Delta Junction bison hunt, which traditionally has lasted almost six months, was reduced to just a two-week run after it was determined that 180 animals died due to starvation during a heavy snowfall in winter.

FROM THE ASJ ARCHIVES – JANUARY 2020

HE MAKES ALASKA HUNTERS’ DREAMS COME TRUE

On his first hunt as the main guide years ago, a client’s request spawned a new title in Billy Molls’ resume: filmmaker and storyteller.

“The client had a video camera and he videotaped his hunt. He shot the bear and he had asked me to videotape him shooting the bear,” he says. “He sent a copy of all the footage that he took and of course I shot a little bit of him shooting the bear. And he sent that to my parents while we were in Alaska. And then after that I bought my own camera and started filming all my hunts.”

What most fascinated Molls about the filming of he and his client’s successful hunt wasn’t so much the actual moment of connecting on the shot but what led them there in the first place. His parents shared the video with friends around their Wisconsin home.

“It seemed like everyone was perhaps more interested in the lifestyle that we lived

“ ”

“Indigenous fishers and small-boat harvesters have for too long shouldered the burden of conservation while the pollock trawl fleet continues its documented and unseen catching and killing of enormous numbers of salmon and crab. The council even failed to implement the hard cap on chum salmon bycatch recommended by Governor Dunleavy’s task force. In light of this failure we are grateful to NMFS for prioritizing equity and the resilience of our fisheries and communities.”

–SalmonState executive director Tim Bristol, after the North Pacific Fisheries Management Council delayed a solution on how to regulate bycatch concerns from pollock fishing boats o Alaska.

(in the field), what we ate, the weather – those kinds of things,” he says. “It’s not just killing an animal, but really it’s the adventure. And we started filming and after 10 years I decided to put this DVD together.”

He has about 15 programs available for purchase, a selection that includes stories of moose and caribou hunting in Alaska, footage from one of Molls’ own adventures on a trip to New Zealand and multiple bear hunt recaps.

Molls hopes all of his videos will provide viewers with a behind-the-scenes

look at once-in-a-lifetime opportunities for his clients.

“I love the storytelling aspect, especially in more of my recent videos. And we’re really trying to connect the human element of each adventure. Because I think I find hunting and life to be synonymous in so many ways and every way imaginable,” he says.

“You can touch a deep chord that resonates with enough people, and it’s something that will stand for a long, long time. I really enjoy that part of trying to connect with people.” -Chris Cocoles

Guide and filmmaker Billy Molls (right) with a happy Alaska hunting client and his beautiful bull. (BILLY MOLLS)

OUTDOOR CALENDAR*

Jan. 1 Nonresident black bear hunting (without the use of registered guides) opens in Game Management Unit 2 (Prince of Wales Island)

Jan. 1 Resident brown bear hunting opens in GMU 26 (Arctic Slope)

Jan. 15 Last day of resident moose hunting season in GMU 9B (King Salmon)

Jan. 20 Last day of resident moose hunting in GMU 9D (King Salmon)

Jan. 31 Last day of goat season in GMU 6 (North Gulf Coast/Prince William Sound)

Jan. 31 Last day of wolverine season in GMU 13 (Nelchina/ Upper Susitna)

Feb. 5 Yukon Quest sled dog race begins, Fairbanks; yukonquest.com

Feb. 15 Last day of wolverine season in GMUs 3 (Petersburg/Wrangell) and 4 (Admiralty/Baranof/ Chichagof Islands)

March 4 Scheduled ceremonial start of Iditarod sled dog race, downtown Anchorage (iditarod.com)

2023 SPORTSMAN SHOWS

Jan. 19-22 International Sportsman’s Exposition, Sacramento, California, Cal Expo (sportsexpos.com/attend/ sacramento)

Feb. 1-5 Washington Sportsmen’s Show, Washington State Fair & Events Center, Puyallup, Washington (otshows.com)

Feb. 15-19 Pacific Northwest Sportsmen’s Show, Expo Center, Portland, Oregon (otshows.com)

March 24-26 Mat-Su Outdoorsman Show, Menard Center, Wasilla (matsuoutdoorsmanshow.com)

March 29-April 3 Bart Hall Shows, Long Beach Convention Center, Long Beach, California (hallshows.com)

April 14-16 Great Alaska Sportsman Show, Dena’ina Civic and Convention Center, Anchorage (greatalaskasportsmanshow.com)

April 21-23 Fairbanks Outdoor Show, Carlson Center (fairbanksevents.com/outdoor-show)

For more information and season dates for Alaska hunts, go to adfg.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=hunting.main.

On New Year’s Day, brown bear hunting opens in Alaska’s Game Management Unit 26 in the Arctic Slope – at least in theory anyway, given that the animals will be hibernating for several more months. (KARA LEWANDOWSKI/ NATIONAL PARK SERVICE)

(U.S. FISH AND WILDLIFE SERVICE)

These Bristol Bay sockeye salmon in Togiak National Wildlife Refuge are part of a $350-plus billion industry that opponents of the Pebble Mine have sought to protect. A December Recommended Determination from the Environmental Protection Agency’s Region 10 o ce could mean more permanent regulations to ban the gold and copper project for good.

EPA TAKES ‘THIRD STEP’ TOWARDS BRISTOL BAY PROTECTION

PEBBLE AND OTHER MINING PROJECTS COULD BE TURNED AWAY VIA CLEAN WATER ACT

BY CHRIS COCOLES

Calling it the “the third step in (a) four-step Clean Water Act Section 404(c) review process,” the Environmental Protection Agency’s Region 10 announced a recommendation to restrict mining use in Bristol Bay watersheds.

That Dec. 1 news was welcome relief in one of the world’s last great salmon spawning waters, where fishermen and locals are pushing to permanently protect the region’s pristine rivers from projects like the Pebble Mine.

“If a rmed by EPA’s O ce of Water, this action would help protect salmon fishery areas that support world-class commercial and recreational fisheries and that have sustained Alaska Native communities for thousands of years, supporting a subsistence-based way of life for one of the last intact wild-salmon-based cultures in the world,” said EPA Region 10 administrator Casey Sixkiller,

Based o comments submitted after the EPA’s 2022 Proposed Determination was released, Region 10 concluded that Pebble deposit discharge “would be likely to result

PROTECTING WILD ALASKA

in unacceptable adverse e ects on salmon fishery areas in the South Fork Koktuli River, North Fork Koktuli River, and Upper Talarik Creek watersheds of Bristol Bay.”

EPA’s Region 10, which covers the three Pacific Northwest states and Alaska, concluded that its Recommended Determination proposal would prohibit the specification of waters in the both the South Fork and North Fork of the Koktuli River “as disposal sites for the discharge of dredged or fill material for the construction and routine operation of the mine plan described in Pebble Limited Partnership’s June 8, 2020 CWA Section 404 Permit application.”

It would also be in e ect for future mining proposals as part of any development of Pebble mineral deposits. Region 10 cited that those projects “would result in the same or greater levels of loss or change to aquatic resources.”

“The Recommended Determination also proposes to restrict the use of certain

waters of the United States in the South Fork Koktuli River, North Fork Koktuli River, and Upper Talarik Creek watersheds as disposal sites for the discharge of dredged or fill material associated with future proposals to develop the Pebble Deposit that would result in adverse e ects similar or greater in nature and magnitude to those associated with the 2020 mine plan,” Region 10 reported.

Next up from the EPA’s perspective is for the agency’s O ce of Water to review Region 10’s analysis and get input from the U.S. Army of Corps of Engineers, which originally approved the Pebble Partnership’s version of the Pebble Mine in the summer of 2020 before denying the permit application upon further review that fall. The EPA will also receive input from the mine applicant, the Pebble Partnership, “about their intent to take corrective action to prevent unacceptable adverse e ects.”

‘A BIG STEP FORWARD’

Momentum has been building the past two years toward some semblance of long-term protection for the region from

Upper Talarik Creek flows into Lake Iliamna and then the Kvichak River before emptying into Bristol Bay. The EPA’s Region 10 report says mining discharge “would be likely to result in unacceptable adverse e ects on salmon fishery areas” on the stream and other waters near the proposed Pebble Mine site. (U.S. EPA)

mining ventures such as the Pebble Mine, and the EPA’s recommendations that further protections should be implemented added more optimism.

And many of Alaska’s most vocal opposition for Bristol Bay felt like the years of hard work in attempting to block the mine have turned the corner. It seems like there’s a sense of finality in the fight against the creation of a gold and copper mine amid the backdrop of critical salmon habitat and its $351 billion industry potentially at risk from mining accidents.

“The Recommended Determination is a big step forward in a process that Alaskans have championed for more than a decade,” said Nelli Williams, Alaska director for Trout Unlimited.

Williams also pleaded with the EPA to come to a swift conclusion and issue the Final Recommendation based on Clean Water Act standards.

Brian Kraft, longtime Bristol  Bay lodge owner and president of Katmai Service Providers, prefers to see the proactive approach continue with maybe for the first time in decades a checkered flag in sight.

“We are excited to see this important

step happen and won’t let our guards down until these safeguards are across the finish line,” Kraft said. “It would be fantastic to start 2023 with the final approval of these protections. So many Alaskans, like myself, that depend on Bristol Bay's salmon and clean water, need certainty that the resources that sustain us won't be threatened by incompatible development.”

SCIENCE WINNING OUT?

There’s been a feeling that common sense would prevail and the importance of Bristol Bay’s pristine salmon streams would justify the “wrong mine in the wrong place” battlecry that’s sounded o for multiple decades.

“We are both excited and relieved to see the Environmental Protection Agency follow the science and listen to the public by moving forward with Clean Water Act protections for Bristol Bay,” said SalmonState executive director Tim Bristol. “After another record-breaking fishing season, this news is welcome to all those who depend on Bristol Bay and its fisheries. But there is no time to waste.”

Yes, even after roughly 20 years of fighting the Pebble project in its various forms and partners jumping in and

bailing out of the operation, the sense of desperation has never left.

“After 20 years of Pebble hanging over our heads, the Biden Administration has the opportunity to follow through on its commitments by finalizing comprehensive, durable protections for our region as soon as possible,” said United Tribes of Bristol Bay executive director Alannah Hurley, whose family and fellow Yup’ik people have been harvesting salmon for generations.

“We look forward to reviewing the EPA’s Recommended Determination in greater detail to ensure it achieves the goal of protecting our people and region from the threat of the Pebble Mine.”

Commercial fishers in the region are also aware of the stakes of a worst-case scenario catastrophe occuring.

Katherine Carscallen, director of Commercial Fishermen for Bristol Bay, cited this past season’s record salmon haul as the testament to “Bristol Bay’s pristine waters and healthy habitat.”

“Our fishermen were able to deliver 59 million wild sockeye to the market – something that isn’t happening anywhere else in the world. EPA’s release of their Recommended Determination

today is an important step towards finalizing urgently needed protections for the region by the end of the year. We all know what is at stake, it’s time for the EPA to finish the job.”

THE END GAME COMETH?

Pebble Partnership, which has endured a tumultuous two-year stretch culminating in the removal of former CEO Tom Collier following taped comments that suggested political influence would not block the mine, released a lengthy statement the day after the EPA Region 10’s released Recommended Determination.

“The EPA has made wildly speculative claims about possible adverse impacts from Pebble’s development that are not supported by any defensible data and are in direct contradiction to the facts validated in the USACE’s Final Environmental Impact Statement (FEIS) for the Pebble Project,” the statement read in part. “The FEIS clearly states that Pebble can be developed without harm to the Bristol Bay fishery. EPA’s speculation about impacts is not the same as demonstrating impacts will occur and is not a valid reason for issuing a veto.”

“Congress did not give the EPA broad authority to act as it has in the Pebble case. This is clearly a massive regulatory overreach by the EPA and well outside what Congress intended for the agency when it passed the Clean Water Act. This point was also highlighted in a letter to the EPA signed by 14 states, including Alaska, in September that expressed their deep concern with the precedence this EPA ‘wildcard’ would set.”

Pebble Partnership indeed has its Alaska allies, including newly re-elected Gov. Mike Dunleavy, but it may not be enough with the federal agency’s Region 10 now recommending the mine project be further banned from moving forward.

“Across the globe, we are losing more nature every minute, and we must protect the places we still have,” said Ellen Montgomery, Environment America public lands director. “It’s past time to finalize protections for Bristol Bay.” ASJ

Editor’s note: Read the EPA Region 10’s Recommended Determination for Bristol Bay at epa.gov/bristolbay/recommendeddetermination-pebble-deposit-area.

Tributaries of the Mulchatna River include the South and North Forks of the Koktuli River, which would be at risk from Pebble Mine accidents. “If a rmed by EPA’s O ce of Water, this action would help protect salmon fishery areas that support world-class commercial and recreational fisheries and that have sustained Alaska Native communities for thousands of years,” said EPA Region 10 administrator Casey Sixkiller. (U.S. EPA)

ILLNESS AFFECTING ALASKA WILDLIFE

TWO BEARS HAVE DIED FROM BIRD FLU

BY CHRIS COCOLES

In a third year of Covid now combined with this winter’s uptick in cases of the flu and respiratory syncytial virus, even some of Alaska’s wildlife species are potentially in a health crisis.

In the latter months of 2022, Alaska o cials announced two cubs, a black bear and a grizzly, have died of what’s o cially known as highly pathogenic avian influenza, or HPAI, and commonly referred to as bird flu. According to the state, 53 million domestic poultry animals have been reported to have been stricken with bird flu in 47 states.

In a press release, Alaska state veterinarian Dr. Robert Gerlach said his o ce is dealing with an increase in domestic poultry bird flu cases, which can potentially create outbreaks in wild animals that consume infected birds. That was the cause

of death for two bears that are among known bird flu fatalities in the state.

BLACK BEAR’S CONDITION WORSENED

The black bear cub that died of the virus inhabited Bartlett Cove around Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve in Southeast Alaska. It was spotted with two other cubs and their sow mother in mid-October looking healthy, but days later the cub was on its own and looked first disoriented and then in the following days appeared even more traumatized and possibly su ering from seizures as well as was foaming at the mouth.

“The park biologist consulted with federal and state biologists and veterinarians and all agreed that the cub should be euthanized to protect people and other wildlife in case the bear had

rabies or avian influenza or another communicable disease. On October 20th a state biologist euthanized the animal with a .22-caliber rifle,” a National Park Service press release reported. “A quick assessment found the cub to be a male with no broken bones or obvious signs of trauma. The enclosure had no signs of vomit, feces or any other discharge from the bear during his three days there. The carcass was sent to the state veterinarian for necropsy.”

“The approximately eight-month-old, 32-pound cub was found to be generally in good body condition, but had hemorrhaging along the left side of the skull and a swollen brain. Laboratory analysis results found the bear to be negative for rabies and canine distemper but positive for highly pathogenic avian influenza in

This family of black bears was photographed near the Glacier Bay National Park o ce on Oct. 11. About 10 days later, one of the cubs fell ill and had to be euthanized. It was determined the young bear was infected with bird flu. (T. LEWS/NATIONAL PARK SERVICE)

brain tissue as well as nasal and rectal swabs. HPAI has been detected in only one other black bear, in Quebec in June 2022. In Alaska the virus has previously been detected in only two mammals, both red foxes, but has been detected in numerous wild and domestic birds throughout the summer and fall. The bear cub was likely exposed to the virus by consuming an infected bird.”

KODIAK BROWN BEAR INFECTED

To the west across the Gulf of Alaska

from Glacier Bay, a Kodiak Island hunter came across a dead brown bear cub on Nov. 26. The hunter collected the carcass and delivered it for a post-mortem examination.

According to a state press release, Nate Svoboda, the area wildlife biologist for Kodiak Island, then informed Alaska Department of Fish and Game veterinarian Dr. Kimberlee Beckmen, who was also part of the team that investigated the black bear death from Glacier Bay. That the Kodiak bear’s death could also

attributed to bird flu was made possible by the hunter acting to deliver the carcass to state personnel.

“We appreciate that the public and this hunter reported these animals,” Beckmen said in the press release. “We are dependent on help like this to understand the occurrence of wildlife diseases. Timely reporting and pictures really help.”

(Beckmen also advised hunters they can help state wildlife o cers by taking photos of a carcass and o ering more specific details about where it was found. “Get the exact location, take pictures, and let us know so we can pick it up,” Beckmen said, adding, “If you pick it up and turn it in, don’t handle it with bare hands – wear gloves or use a plastic bag.”)

Svoboda, ADFG’s Kodiak biologist, said the brown bear had no signs of obvious wounds or trauma that would indicate it was sick, but the animal did look emaciated.

“That’s uncommon for this time of year when bears should be near their maximum weight prior to denning,” Svoboda said in the press release.

But like the black bear cub in Southeast Alaska, the experts determined the bear’s HPAI infection was due to it consuming a diseased bird, which likely means we haven’t seen the last such death among Last Frontier wildlife.

“While mammals are at a lower risk of infection than poultry, scavenging an infected bird provides an opportunity to inhale a heavy dose of the virus while tearing into the tissues,” Beckmen said. “The cub was emaciated and that, in addition to being a very young animal, would make it more susceptible to succumbing to an infection. Fortunately, the virus is not transferred from bear-to-bear.”

And the press release also reminded that “(the) Centers for Disease Control says this strain is low risk to people and is not a food-borne pathogen. However, proper hygiene is always advised when butchering wild animals for consumption. Wear gloves, wash hands and utensils with soap and water and disinfect surfaces. Cook meat to an internal temperature of 145 degrees and poultry to 165 degrees Fahrenheit to avoid risk of infections.” ASJ

Editor’s note: Sick or dead wildlife can be reported online at adfg.alaska.gov/index. cfm?adfg=distressedwildlife.main.

“While mammals are at a lower risk of infection than poultry, scavenging an infected bird provides an opportunity to inhale a heavy dose of the virus while tearing into the tissues,” Alaska Department of Fish and Game veterinarian Dr. Kimberlee Beckmen says of the potential danger to otherwise healthy wildlife from consuming an infected bird.  (T. LEWS/NATIONAL PARK SERVICE)

Author Brian Watkins was tested physically and mentally when he embarked on a Wrangell Mountains solo Dall sheep hunt, an experience that a fellow Alaska outdoorsman refers to as a “dance with the devil.”

(BRIAN

DANCING WITH THE DEVIL

A SOLO DALL SHEEP HUNT IN THE WRANGELL MOUNTAINS BRINGS EXCITEMENT, DANGER, REFLECTION

BY BRIAN WATKINS

“They’re only 400 yards away, but there’s no obstructions to hide behind. I’m forced to move in for the shot, in plain view, without being detected. My rifle’s slung over my back and I’m on all fours moving as if I were a caterpillar inching along the open mountain face. It’s been nearly a year since I missed with my bow, but this time I have a rifle to fulfill a dream. There’s a band of 12 rams grazing the mountain and one that surpasses the full-curl mark. I have 100 yards to make up before I am comfortable with the shot. Time stands still as I do everything I can to crawl closer.”

Some people spend their whole lives looking for a fulfilling adventure – one that will test their physical abilities. Some look to test their mental abilities. And some yearn for the combination of both.

Everyone has a di erent dream, but there’s an obvious bond between those of us crazy enough to dream of the challenge of a solo sheep hunt. My friend Charles Kahahawai calls it the “dance with the devil.”

I KNEW THE DANGERS of a solo sheep hunt – especially a fly-out, drop-o solo sheep hunt. Tok Air Service dropped me at 7,000 feet and deep in Alaska’s Wrangell Mountains.

As my pilot Zack took o from what would be my home for the next week, reality hit that I was on my own. Survival was dependent on myself alone. I didn’t know what was ahead of me, but I knew I was in my element. The plane slipped out of view and it was time to hunt.

I put my crampons on and headed down the glacier to find a place to set up

camp. The area was haphazard with rock slides, icy slopes, deep crevasses and loose boulders. Every step I took needed to be calculated.

I had a satellite phone available, but if I lost consciousness, how would I call? This is the type of thinking that creeps into your thoughts when you’re alone in these conditions. It’s the start of the dance.

I made my way to a flat piece of ground to set up camp. I had three rams a mile away but could tell they weren’t legal through the spotting scope. It was still exciting to have sheep in view already. I spent the afternoon studying the land and how to navigate through the mountain.

As the evening set in, I spotted a group of five rams a few miles away feeding along the bottom of the valley. They were too far to judge, but worth pursuing the following morning. I crawled into bed with high hopes and anticipation.

My nerves were too keen to eat breakfast. The sheep from the night before had awoken before me and were on the move. I threw on my pack and headed towards them.

WATKINS)

Watkins gets an acrophobic view of the rugged Wrangells and he knew what he was getting into right away. “Reality hit that I was on my own,” he writes. “Survival was dependent on myself alone.” (BRIAN WATKINS)

About the only companions on this trip for Watkins were the sheep he was hoping to harvest. Finding a legal full-curl ram wouldn’t be easy. (BRIAN WATKINS)

AS I CAUGHT UP with the band, I had to get into position to judge legality. In Alaska, rams have to have either both sides broomed o or a full curl on one side. I decided to get higher on my side of the valley for a better view.

I crested the hill and was forced to drop. There were three rams bedded above me and scanning the floor below. Just to the left of them stood four more rams, working their way along the mountain feeding. I was surrounded and without the ability to move. Scaring any one of the groups would clear the entire valley. I was confined to this spot. I got the spotting scope out and worked my way through the rams, judging them.

I studied each ram as I moved from one to the next trying to decide if he was legal. Every ram was barely sublegal, until I locked eyes on “him.” His horns flared out, well past full curl. I immediately began to shake. Buck fever set in and my breaths deepened.

The world seemed to stop spinning as my tunnel vision locked on this beautiful animal. I was caught between three groups of rams, and I had no clue how to proceed.

I ranged the band: 400 yards. My only option was to move in for the shot –in plain view – without being detected. I dropped my pack and slung my rifle over my back. I was forced on all fours while moving as if I were a caterpillar inching along the open mountain face.

It had been nearly a year since I

missed a huge ram with my bow, but this time I had a rifle to fulfill my dream.

WHEN I GOT WITHIN 300 yards, one of the rams spotted me. I was caught in plain sight and my worst fears came true. The rams were ready to take o . I dropped to a shooting position and squeezed o

a shot. Clear miss. My heart sank, and shock took over.

Somehow, the ram decided to run closer. He made his way towards me and set up for another broadside shot. Instinct took over and I put a bullet through his vitals. The ram was hit hard and on the move. I put two more shots through that ram and he fell to his final resting place.

I felt my heart racing and the blood pumping through my veins. I had successfully taken a Dall sheep in Alaska’s Wrangell Mountains. There I stood, a Pennsylvania boy next to a Dall sheep. You dream about these moments growing up; it’s a sort of fairy tale. You see these magnificent animals on television and you read about these badass guys hunting them in magazines. It’s real, but not reality.

I took the risk of a lifetime moving to Alaska on my own, and here I was taking another risk standing atop the most beautiful country in the world next to a full-curl ram.

I spent the next day and a half packing the sheep back to the air strip. I had danced with the devil, but it wasn’t over. I had done what I’d set out to do, but still had days until Zack was due to pick me up. The next step of my dance was about to start.

The physical demand of solo sheep hunting was complete, but the mental games were beginning. I had forgotten to bring a book, a deck of cards or anything for entertainment. I had nothing to do.

The winds blew hard at night, but the sun shined throughout the day. At the time, I hadn’t realized the importance of this time alone. It was on my mind to escape this valley and get home to report my success to family and friends.

At 7,000 feet, there is no wood for a fire and few animals to admire. There was one lone ram that hung out above me. I named him Cam short for camera) and took pictures of him for two days. Occasionally, a bird would fly past for entertainment.

Success. This dance with the devil wasn’t a waltz in the park, but even without a partner, Watkins was tickled. (BRIAN WATKINS)

I looked forward to getting water, to eating food and – as gross as it sounds – to taking a No. 2. I played a game of throwing rocks and drew pictures on boulders. Life was simple, life was easy and life was perfect.

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THE EMOTIONAL DANCE WAS in full swing. I would be lying if I didn’t say I went a little crazy. I sang songs out loud and fake-acted scripts that I made up in my head. I called Zack on the satellite phone and asked to be picked up early. At the time I didn’t realize the value of that last dance.

I got home and made the obligatory phone calls to friends and family to tell the story of my dance with the devil. The excitement was shared and my story was told, just as I tell it now.

Then I realized the importance of those couple of days alone after my success. I realized that the life I’ve built is fast paced and always busy. There’s always a schedule to adhere to and deadlines to meet. Suddenly, those deadlines, although relevant to my life, weren’t important. They were actually meaningless. Stress seemed easier to bypass and everyone’s demands seemed to matter less.

I had changed that week on the mountain. I had found a piece of me that I hadn’t known. It’s hard to explain to someone, unless they too have danced with that devil. ASJ

The author found himself bored and maybe a bit lonely in the days after his achievement, so the return of pilot Zack and the plane that would take him back to civilization was a welcome sight.

(BRIAN WATINS)

“I realized the importance of those couple of days alone after my success. I realized that the life I’ve built is fast paced and always busy. There’s always a schedule to adhere to and deadlines to meet,” Watkins writes about his experience alone. “Suddenly, those deadlines, although relevant to my life, weren’t important.”

(BRIAN WATKINS)

KNOW YOUR LOADS

UNDERSTANDING PATTERNING CAN MAKE ALL THE DIFFERENCE WITH WATERFOWL SHOTSHELLS

BY SCOTT HAUGEN

Being locked in winter, there’s plenty of time to reflect. While many Alaskans think of past fishing or big game hunting experiences, others turn to waterfowl hunts.

Last fall I was hunting ducks and geese. A lone honker came skidding into the decoys at 25 yards and I knew it was dinner. But it didn’t come together as I envisioned in a clean, one-shot kill.

My first shot busted the left wing tip of the goose. It landed and was swimming near some floating honker decoys at 30 yards. My two follow-up shots didn’t touch its head or neck. Rather than sticking in the same loads I’d just shot, I grabbed my standby Browning Wicked Wing 3-inch, No. 2 shot. The goose was engulfed in a mist, and when it cleared, the bird was stone dead.

Thus, after 47 years of waterfowl hunting, I learned a lesson: Don’t trust a load just because it’s supposed to be something special. The first three shots I fired at that goose were a hyped-up bismuth load. I also rea rmed my own belief that it’s important to pattern a load before hunting with it, which I failed to do.

Patterning loads on paper reveals a precise pellet count. Doing so at 40 yards is standard, and I also like shooting at 50 yards to know what to expect on follow-up shots – as well as at 20 yards

When it came time for author Scott Haugen’s dream hunt for emperor geese, he selected his go-to load of Browning’s Wicked Wing in No. 2 shot. (SCOTT HAUGEN)

any Haugen turns waterfowl meat into a deli classic with a wild Alaska twist. Duck pastrami o ers plenty of options, including delicious pâté or quite a unique Reuben

FROM DUCKS TO DELI MEAT

BY TIFFANY HAUGEN

When we lived a semi-subsistence lifestyle in Point Lay, Alaska, in the early 1990s, we ate a lot of sea ducks – mostly common and king eider. Early in the season we enjoyed puddle ducks, but they, along with the brant, headed south pretty early.

Wild ducks can widely vary in size and flavor. One recipe that is always a winner is duck pastrami. The long corning/brine process tames any strong flavors and the flavorful rub and smoke flavors accentuate what soon may be one of your favorite wild game meats.

Whether you’re hunting sea ducks or looking to pull from the freezer, this is a deli meat recipe you’ll come back to.

3 pounds duck breasts, cleaned and skinned

1 cup boiling water

1 teaspoon InstaCure

¼ cup kosher salt

¼ cup brown sugar

2 tablespoons pickling spices

2 teaspoons granulated garlic

1 teaspoon black pepper

7 cups cold water

In a large crock or container, whisk salt, InstaCure – sometimes called pink salt or Prague powder – sugar and spices in 1 cup boiling water until salts and sugar dis-

solve. Add additional 7 cups of cold water and set aside. Clean duck breasts of any sinuous tissues and fat, remove all bloodshot meat and place in brine solution. Cover and refrigerate six to seven days.

Make pastrami seasoning rub of choice. Remove duck breasts from brine and brush o excess spices. Pat dry and coat with pastrami seasoning rub. Place coated duck breasts on smoker racks.

Fill your smoker pan with wood chips (flavor of choice). Place racks in smoker and smoke eight to 10 hours, using at least two pans of chips. Smoke until internal temperature reaches 165 degrees. Duck breasts can also be finished in a 170-degree oven or 150-degree dehydrator.

(Note: When running a smoker in Alaska or other cold climates in winter, use an approved insulating blanket, as cook times will be greatly extended.)

Duck pastrami can be sliced and eaten directly from the smoker, or, more traditionally, steamed before serving. Steam whole for 30 to 60 minutes or slice and steam five to 10 minutes.

SERVING SUGGESTIONS

1) Make smoked duck pastrami pâté by simply mixing equal parts chopped duck pastrami with cream cheese and pulse until combined in a food processor.

2) Use as the corned beef/pastrami layer

in your favorite grilled Reuben sandwich. Keep duck pastrami refrigerated or, for longer-term storage, vacuum seal and freeze either sliced or whole.

TRADITIONAL PASTRAMI SEASONING

2 tablespoons black pepper

1 tablespoon ground coriander

1 tablespoon smoked paprika

2 teaspoons granulated garlic

In a small bowl, mix seasonings until thoroughly combined.

HOT PASTRAMI SEASONING

2 tablespoons black peppercorns

2 teaspoons mustard seeds

2 teaspoons cumin seeds

1 to 2 teaspoons red pepper flakes

In a mortar and pestle or co ee grinder, grind all spices until thoroughly combined.

Editor’s note: For signed copies of Ti any’s popular book, Cooking Game Birds, and other best-selling titles, visit ti anyhaugen.com.

Ti

sandwich. (TIFFANY HAUGEN)

– for those close-range decoying shots. Try di erent brands and shot sizes – even chokes – to see what performs best in your gun.

THE LAST TWO YEARS of shotgun shell shortage was unlike anything most of us had ever experienced. To get by, we snatched any shells we could find. We learned a lot about what it was like shooting di erent brands in a range of shot sizes. Or did we?

Racking up misses throughout the season, many of my hunting buddies figured they just had a bad day of shooting. Others thought it was their gun, while some changed chokes after being frustrated by their misses. Most guys I hunt with are great shots, and their misses were uncharacteristic.

On a hunt in Texas last January, I used my phone to record a buddy shooting decoying redheads. He crippled a drake, then proceeded to miss it on the water with his two ensuing shots. Another

buddy killed it with ease.

My friend who missed was shooting a load he’d never used before. Played at regular speed on my phone, the video showed a sparse pattern. But when we scrubbed through the video frame by frame, we saw some of the size 2 shot hitting the water 10 feet from the barrel, while other pellets soared out to 100 yards. At 30 yards the pattern was wide enough to cover a small car.

IN THIS DAY AND age of many hunters recording shots on their cell phones, try and capture some of those finishing shots on water and study the pattern. Download it on to a big computer at home and look closely at the pattern, frame by frame. It will reveal a lot about the loads you’re shooting; more than paper can, in fact.

My preferred shell is Browning’s Wicked Wing, though I continue testing many brands. I like shooting size 4 steel shot for decoying ducks, and size

2 and sometimes BB for geese. If shooting ducks on windy days, I’ll back up the 4s with 2 shot to cut the wind and finish o birds that can quickly gain distance. Wicked Wing is fast, holds a tight pattern, has impressive penetrating power without ripping meat apart, and it shoots to perfection in my Browning Maxus II with the company’s factory full choke.

Another impressive shell I’ve shot in my gun is Federal’s Speed-Shok. HeviShot’s Hevi XII in No. 4 shot, a pure tungsten load, recently caught my attention. I still have more testing to do on this load, but love it so far. Last season I shot nine brands of shotgun shells. Some have me exploring deeper; others, not so much.

Keep in mind that as the season progresses, feather density continues to build in waterfowl, especially if you’re a diver, sea duck or brant hunter in Alaska. While some hunters like going to larger-sized shot for geese late in the season, like BBB, I stick with 2 shot backed up with BB, and I

Knowing how di erent loads perform on di erent waterfowl takes time. Haugen had good success on this hunt in Southeast Alaska. (SCOTT HAUGEN)

Haugen chose HeviShot loads during this king eider hunt on St. Paul Island. Sea ducks are tough, so having the right loads is critical when shot opportunities present themselves. (SCOTT HAUGEN)

shoot for the head and neck. I’d rather have more pellets with a chance to kill a bird, than try and drive bigger and fewer pellets through tightly packed feathers on a body shot and risk a cripple.

I’ve used extra-full chokes on late-season goose hunts, as well as when chasing snow geese. While fancy chokes look cool sticking out the barrel, be sure to switch them out when shooting ducks over decoys. Chances are, if you can even hit a duck with this hyper choke at 25 yards, there won’t be much edible meat left.

WHEN YOU SHOOT A specific load traveling at a certain speed, you learn what to expect. This kind of familiarity comes with patterning loads to understand their performance and gaining as much hunting experience as possible.

Last season, a buddy – who is one of the best shots I’ve seen –said it best after shooting 23 shells he’d never before used to get his seven ducks. “I’d rather shoot a di erent gun and choke than change shells!”

Up to that point in the season he was averaging about 10 shells per limit, with shells he was used to shooting at ducks over decoys. Just don’t punish yourself over misses until you understand the big picture, because shooting random loads can explain a lot of errant shots.

Confident, accurate shooting starts with knowing your gun, choke and especially the shells, plus putting in range time. ASJ

Editor’s note: For signed copies of Scott Haugen’s best-selling books, visit scotthaugen.com. Follow Scott on Instagram and Facebook.

TAKE A KID FISHING

A RELUCTANT FATHER, AN EAGER SON, AND A TRIP TO A POND

Author Bjorn Dihle’s 3½-year-old son Shiras is a fishing fanatic. His dad tolerates the activity these days, so when Shiras begged Pops to wet a line, there was no real chance to say no. (BJORN DIHLE)

BY BJORN DIHLE

“Let’s go fishing!” my 3½-year-old son Shiras yelled. The deer rut was just kicking o and Shiras had interrupted my daydreams of big bucks. I’d been preoccupied by a lot of things, including the need to fill the freezer with venison, but going fishing was low on the list.

I’m not a big fisherman. I don’t dislike it, but I only do it for food or, when I commercially fished, for money. Still, my boy’s eyes vacillated between insanity and desperation as he wielded a broken fishing rod over his head like a 40-pound Conan the Barbarian.

“There’s not much to catch … It’s too late in the season … Ouch!  Stop hitting me!” I yelled.

It wasn’t the first time Shiras beat me with a broken Ugly Stik. In all fairness, I had it coming. He’d been asking to go fishing almost every day for months. He’d had a pretty good season, for a 3-year-old: experiencing a handful of Dolly Varden missions in early summer; netting sockeye with friends up the Taku River in July; trolling for coho in August.

As I did my best to dodge his flurry of swings, I remembered how when I was a little kid I was nearly as obsessed with fishing as him. If my dad couldn’t take me, I’d either despair or ride my bike to go cast for Dollies or jig for bottomfish.

But my interest in fishing fizzled out during my adolescence. My dad would try to get me to go fishing with him and I’d decline with a lame excuse like needing to watch a seemingly important basketball game on television.

Even worse than my son beating me was knowing that if I didn’t take him fishing, he’d spend the next hour alternating between casting in a mud puddle in a backyard and torturing his little brother Theron by pretending he was a fish and catching him.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Shiras whooped, smacked me with

his rod one last time and then knocked his brother down to celebrate.

THERE ARE A FEW beaver ponds that hold some trout near where we live. I threw together our kit, which consisted of plenty of snacks, warm clothes and Shiras’s collapsible Eagle Claw pole. I loaded Theron into a backpack and the three of us, along with our dog, headed o into the woods.

Fog hung low on the forest, the brush was frosted and there was not a breath of breeze. A buck had recently walked the trail we were traveling. There are few deer in the area and I generally just see sign during the rut when the bucks are really moving. I explained to Shiras what was going on; his eyes lit up and he said, “Let’s go hunting!”

We passed by some sloughs and were walking along a pond when we heard a big

Shiras on a happier day with a Dolly Varden to interact with. (BJORN DIHLE)

Shiras’s younger brother Theron is a little too young to get into serious fishing yet, so examining and playing with a tote of sockeye will su ce these days. (BJORN DIHLE)

On the way back home after fishing, when Shiras asked his impatient dad if he liked fishing, it was a question the author had to carefully answer for the sake of his sons. “It took me back to being a kid, glued to the television, while my dad tried to get me to go fishing with him,” he writes. “Right then, I loved fishing so much it made my chest ache.”

(BJORN DIHLE)

splash. I assumed it was a beaver slapping its tail. But a red salmon leapt out of the gray waters. Other salmon jumped. There’s a small run of late coho here and it looked like we were witnessing the peak of their spawning. I crossed my fingers there’d be more trout and Dollies that had followed to feast on their eggs.

I set Theron free at a sandy beach and he immediately grabbed a handful of leaves, then toddled to the shore to throw them in the water.  Unlike his older brother, he respected natural boundaries and I didn’t need to worry much about him falling in or even getting his feet wet. When Shiras was his age, I couldn’t keep him out of the water – even during cold winter days.

I attached a spinner with a single barbless hook to the line and ducked and dodged as Shiras whipped his rod around. He insisted on casting all by himself, but after a while let me help him. I’d cast and

he’d reel in. After a half hour without luck, he looked up at me, disappointed, and asked why we weren’t catching fish.

Noticing some fry swimming along the shore, he waded in and began chasing them, figuring he’d have a better chance of catching something that way. He was soon soaked to the waist but, despite the temperature being in the mid-30s, shouted with glee and kept me updated on all his near misses.

I WANTED THE BOY to catch something, so I started casting seriously. I thought back to a stream on Chichagof Island that had been filled with trout when I’d walked up a few months ago. The creek went through a number of karst caves and at the mouth of one was a couple hundred trout. Most were between 10 and 12 inches, but there was a small school of bigger fish a little way o . I’d wished my boys and dad had been there to see

them and maybe catch a few.

I put the rod down and was playing with Theron when Shiras yelled, “I caught something!” He waded to shore and proudly displayed a leech that was busily trying to sink its teeth into his flesh. I complimented him on his catch and gave him the option of keeping it for dinner.

I plucked a coho fry out of the water, then dropped it into Shiras’s cupped hands. He studied the baby fish for a few moments and, with my encouragement, dropped it back in the water. Nearby, a flash of red stirred the gray waters. An adult coho was digging its nest in preparation to lay her eggs. It struck me then that the salmon had stopped jumping and now the pond was still. Sun rays were shining through the fog. Theron was beginning to nod o and I needed to get him home for a nap. I told Shiras it was time to go.

“Never! I’m going to stay here forever!” he yelled back.

I tried to bribe him with a jellybean. He negotiated for three and, only then, came out of the water. At that moment he realized he was hypothermic and possibly on the verge of freezing to death. I changed him into dry clothes and, with Theron asleep on my back, we began the walk home.

“DO YOU LIKE FISHING?” Shiras asked.

The question caught me o guard. It took me back to being a kid, glued to the television, while my dad tried to get me to go fishing with him. Right then, I loved fishing so much it made my chest ache.

“Yeah, going fishing is the best,” I said. ASJ

Editor’s note: Bjorn Dihle is a lifelong Alaskan and the author of the book A Shape in the Dark: Living and Dying with Brown Bears Order it at amazon.com/Shape-Dark-Living-Dying-Brown/dp/1680513095.