Ratdog68
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It was November of '91, and I was making a statement. Instead of going to the final hearing for my divorce, I was flying from Anchorage to Kotzebue to go moose hunting with my dad, and to spend Thanksgiving with him up there. Never wanted it, but, the mechanics of the process all went my way, and I wasn't going to give her the time of day from that day on. Besides... an Alaskan Moose hunt with my father? Who needs help making that decision? LOL A man's gotta have priorities ya know.
A very close friend of mine, Carlos (who I worked with as a cop up there), was returning the favor, and loaned me his nearly brand spanking NEW Yamaha Phazer snow mobile and Eskimo basket sled. Dad had a Polaris Indy 340 long track and an Eskimo basket sled he made from oak. Another close friend of mine (Tom) from Anchorage was coming along too. A close friend of my dad and I (Raymond Brown) and his son were coming along as well.
Now, Raymond (OO-ya-lack) (don't know how to spell it correctly, nor what it means) (R.I.P.) was an interesting fellow, I'd first met him when he was on my crew during spill clean-up efforts during the Exxon Valdez spill, he was one of the bear guards. He was a good soul, loved a good laugh, enjoyed the out of doors a little more than the next guy, had a team of dogs he cared for... and was always ready (loosely said) to go hunting. You could count on Raymond for ANYTHING, but having equipment in good repair. LOL If it wasn't a trashed prop on an outboard, a snow mobile that wouldn't run well, a 4-whlr. that needed fixing, a rifle in DESPARATE need of cleaning/oiling/rust removal... then it was something as simple as bringing a .270 rifle and grabbing his .243 shells in his hurry to leave. It was always something. But, it was always a good adventure, some hearty laughs, and a good story for later. Years later, Raymond and another hunter vanished. They were snow mobile hunting on the ocean for seals, and as I recall, only a gas can with one of their names was ever found. I helped Raymond with getting dogs for his team. We'd get some dogs in at the pound, and before they'd take a final trip to the dump, I'd call Raymond and have him come down and pick one or two he wanted to adopt. He took good care of his dogs. My one and only sled dog ride was with Raymond, a year or two after his team built up. I never knew dogs could take a dump at a full gallop... but, they can... and, in the open air... at speed, it stinks just as bad as if in a room with 'em. LOL I had the pleasure of many caribou hunts with my dad, and with Raymond along. I'll miss his company in the years to come... as much as I've missed it since his disappearance.
Tom? He and I became friends when I moved to Anchorage (from Kotzebue) shortly after getting married. He and his wife attended the same church that we started going to, and his wife sang in the choir as did we. Tom's friendship was a God-send for me... for, it was during my separation/divorce that our hunting/fishing adventures helped with keeping my sanity, and he never turned a deaf ear (though, I'd imagine he wanted to from time to time). He was a lineman for the Municipal Light and Power company. We'd load his boat after work on Friday, drive about 150 miles to Seward, launch his boat... fish for halibut, drive back to Anchorage... clean fish (and the boat), and make it (barely) to church Sunday morning. I'd brought him caribou hunting in Kotzebue a few times, we'd never moose hunted together... although, he'd done a LOT of moose hunting over the years.
Being the latter half of November, it was (on average) -10F ambient. Everything was frozen over, snow was on the ground... but, there was ONE hazard to be watchful of (besides the cold)... "over flow" on the river. The ice forms on the surface, the river rises and breaks through... can be another 3-4 feet deep above the ice, and then freeze over again... break through again and be standing water ontop of that layer of ice. We had three machines/sleds for the five hunters. Tom, riding in my sled... Raymond's boy in his sled... and dad hauling most of the gear in his sled. I had ONE strict rule for hunting in the arctic... when dad said: "My suggestion to you is...." that was LAW. By age, he out-ranked Raymond, but they were the ones to lead and made the more critical decisions.
When going afield in the Arctic, I tend to go a little gear-heavy... as well as tools/resource heavy. Always been kind of handy, but you can't just go to the store for something needed. Ain't no WalMart handy. At least half a dozen knives, multiple fire making means, extra clothing to change into since being wet can kill you in those temps, plenty of things like webbing for lashings, extra rope, cordage... whatever I could pack along for that "just in case".
The plan... travel north on the Noatak River, headed towards the village of Noatak (where my grandmother was born), and just prior to getting there, camp on Raymond's land. He had a canvas wall tent set up there, with plywood inner walls and 2x4 framing to support the canvas. It was insulated with pink foam board, and, had a wood stove in it. Right on the river, in the middle of NOwhere. Life is GOOD !!! From there, we'd travel up and down the slough bottoms, then up the bank to the tundra and willows (where the moose browsed).
Snow machining on glare ice is interesting. Not too bad if you have carbide skegs on the skis and a studded track... however, if you didn't, give steady/smooth acceleration after even the slightest turn... you'd end up looking to the side and seeing your passenger facing the wrong direction and with an odd look on his face riding backwards (at speed) in a jack-knifed sled... still attached to the snow mobile. One can become rather proficient at correcting this with a slight push against the rail of the sled and being smooth on the gas. Sleds have flat runners, with a Teflon strip screwed to them to keep them slick. Passengers also do NOT enjoy the same benefit of suspension to soak up the uneven affects of tundra. Life is good on the machine with such things as: heated grips, a windshield, heat exchangers beneath your boot covered hooves. One earns extra points with his passenger when he turns around and asks the inquiring "OK?" with a thumbs up... and pays attention to the response (and, not take offense to the urgency of the delivery of whatever gesture is returned)... for, you TOO could end up riding in the sled. Did I mention already? Life is GOOD on the machine !!!
To be continued...
A very close friend of mine, Carlos (who I worked with as a cop up there), was returning the favor, and loaned me his nearly brand spanking NEW Yamaha Phazer snow mobile and Eskimo basket sled. Dad had a Polaris Indy 340 long track and an Eskimo basket sled he made from oak. Another close friend of mine (Tom) from Anchorage was coming along too. A close friend of my dad and I (Raymond Brown) and his son were coming along as well.
Now, Raymond (OO-ya-lack) (don't know how to spell it correctly, nor what it means) (R.I.P.) was an interesting fellow, I'd first met him when he was on my crew during spill clean-up efforts during the Exxon Valdez spill, he was one of the bear guards. He was a good soul, loved a good laugh, enjoyed the out of doors a little more than the next guy, had a team of dogs he cared for... and was always ready (loosely said) to go hunting. You could count on Raymond for ANYTHING, but having equipment in good repair. LOL If it wasn't a trashed prop on an outboard, a snow mobile that wouldn't run well, a 4-whlr. that needed fixing, a rifle in DESPARATE need of cleaning/oiling/rust removal... then it was something as simple as bringing a .270 rifle and grabbing his .243 shells in his hurry to leave. It was always something. But, it was always a good adventure, some hearty laughs, and a good story for later. Years later, Raymond and another hunter vanished. They were snow mobile hunting on the ocean for seals, and as I recall, only a gas can with one of their names was ever found. I helped Raymond with getting dogs for his team. We'd get some dogs in at the pound, and before they'd take a final trip to the dump, I'd call Raymond and have him come down and pick one or two he wanted to adopt. He took good care of his dogs. My one and only sled dog ride was with Raymond, a year or two after his team built up. I never knew dogs could take a dump at a full gallop... but, they can... and, in the open air... at speed, it stinks just as bad as if in a room with 'em. LOL I had the pleasure of many caribou hunts with my dad, and with Raymond along. I'll miss his company in the years to come... as much as I've missed it since his disappearance.
Tom? He and I became friends when I moved to Anchorage (from Kotzebue) shortly after getting married. He and his wife attended the same church that we started going to, and his wife sang in the choir as did we. Tom's friendship was a God-send for me... for, it was during my separation/divorce that our hunting/fishing adventures helped with keeping my sanity, and he never turned a deaf ear (though, I'd imagine he wanted to from time to time). He was a lineman for the Municipal Light and Power company. We'd load his boat after work on Friday, drive about 150 miles to Seward, launch his boat... fish for halibut, drive back to Anchorage... clean fish (and the boat), and make it (barely) to church Sunday morning. I'd brought him caribou hunting in Kotzebue a few times, we'd never moose hunted together... although, he'd done a LOT of moose hunting over the years.
Being the latter half of November, it was (on average) -10F ambient. Everything was frozen over, snow was on the ground... but, there was ONE hazard to be watchful of (besides the cold)... "over flow" on the river. The ice forms on the surface, the river rises and breaks through... can be another 3-4 feet deep above the ice, and then freeze over again... break through again and be standing water ontop of that layer of ice. We had three machines/sleds for the five hunters. Tom, riding in my sled... Raymond's boy in his sled... and dad hauling most of the gear in his sled. I had ONE strict rule for hunting in the arctic... when dad said: "My suggestion to you is...." that was LAW. By age, he out-ranked Raymond, but they were the ones to lead and made the more critical decisions.
When going afield in the Arctic, I tend to go a little gear-heavy... as well as tools/resource heavy. Always been kind of handy, but you can't just go to the store for something needed. Ain't no WalMart handy. At least half a dozen knives, multiple fire making means, extra clothing to change into since being wet can kill you in those temps, plenty of things like webbing for lashings, extra rope, cordage... whatever I could pack along for that "just in case".
The plan... travel north on the Noatak River, headed towards the village of Noatak (where my grandmother was born), and just prior to getting there, camp on Raymond's land. He had a canvas wall tent set up there, with plywood inner walls and 2x4 framing to support the canvas. It was insulated with pink foam board, and, had a wood stove in it. Right on the river, in the middle of NOwhere. Life is GOOD !!! From there, we'd travel up and down the slough bottoms, then up the bank to the tundra and willows (where the moose browsed).
Snow machining on glare ice is interesting. Not too bad if you have carbide skegs on the skis and a studded track... however, if you didn't, give steady/smooth acceleration after even the slightest turn... you'd end up looking to the side and seeing your passenger facing the wrong direction and with an odd look on his face riding backwards (at speed) in a jack-knifed sled... still attached to the snow mobile. One can become rather proficient at correcting this with a slight push against the rail of the sled and being smooth on the gas. Sleds have flat runners, with a Teflon strip screwed to them to keep them slick. Passengers also do NOT enjoy the same benefit of suspension to soak up the uneven affects of tundra. Life is good on the machine with such things as: heated grips, a windshield, heat exchangers beneath your boot covered hooves. One earns extra points with his passenger when he turns around and asks the inquiring "OK?" with a thumbs up... and pays attention to the response (and, not take offense to the urgency of the delivery of whatever gesture is returned)... for, you TOO could end up riding in the sled. Did I mention already? Life is GOOD on the machine !!!
To be continued...
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